“Oh, aye—men fight, protect, lead, and such. I know that. I once asked Papa if women were truly put upon this earth only to bear children. He said nay. He said we were made to keep men from forgetting the soft and pretty things in life, to keep alive the gentler emotions. He told me we were here to ease a man’s way, to comfort him and give him refuge from the world when it grows too harsh to bear.”
“And all that is what you wished to do for that man?”
“Aye. I wanted to wipe the lines of care from his face, to make that rich voice tumble out in a laugh.” She sighed. “But ’tis not my place. I wed Robert in less than a day’s time.”
“You feel none of those things for him?”
“I fear not. Mayhap later. Now I mostly wish to cuff him as he allows so many others to do.”
“That does not bode well for your marriage.”
“Well, a marriage is often what you make of it.” Gytha moved to view her crown of flowers in the mirror. “There, what do you think of it?”
Accepting the change of subject as she moved to answer the rap at the door and let the maid in, Margaret nodded. “Very lovely. Do you wear it this eve?”
“Aye. Ah, Edna.” She smiled at the young, pretty maid. “Have you gained any news of our latest guests?”
“That I have, mistress. The Red Devil they call that big one. The Red Devil and his band of bastards.”
Gytha frowned slightly. “That seems a rather cruel appellation.”
“’Tis true though. More true than not, leastwise. The man is indeed very red and ’tis said he is the very devil upon the battlefield. Most of his men are bastards, the natural sons of highborn men. They were given skill and knowledge, but no coin or land. So, they ride with the Red Devil and sell their swords with his. Why, ’tis said the very sight of them is enough to end a battle. The enemy flees before him or surrenders at once.”
“A pleasant thought, but I doubt the Red Devil gained his scars from mass surrenders,” Gytha drawled. “What of him?”
“He is a Saitun, I think. Unwed, landless, but rich in honor. Not too poor in pocket, so rumor has it.”
Margaret shook her head. “You should not encourage her in this prying and spying.”
“T’will be done anyway. No encouragement is needed. Why should I not gain from it? What of the man who rides at the Red Devil’s right, Edna?”
“Gytha,” groaned Margaret, unable to fully suppress a blush.
Seeing it, Gytha winked at her cousin. “Come now, admit you are curious. Well, Edna? Any news of him?”
Her dark eyes growing wide with a dreamy look, Edna sighed. “Ah, such a man. Such a beautiful smile.”
“Heed that,” grumbled Margaret. “Here but a few moments only and already he eyes the maids.”
It was not easy, but Gytha smothered a giggle. “Is that all you know of him, Edna?”
“Nay. He too is unwed. In truth, I think the lot of them are. His name is Roger. Sir Roger. So, ’tis a knight he is.”
“Thank you, Edna. We will be needing some bathing water, please.” After Edna left, Gytha turned to grin at her cousin. “There you are, Margaret. The man is unwed.”
“Aye, and a flirt. Most like a lecherous rogue as well.”
“Tsk, tsk.” Gytha pulled a mournful face. “To so brand the poor man for but smiling at a pretty maid. I fear you are possessed of a hard heart, cousin.”
“Bah, wretched girl. Cease trying to goad me. It will not work this time. Aye, he is handsome. True, my heart acts strangely when I look upon him. Howbeit, ’tis best if I cease to think of him. He is landless, mayhap poor as well. If he ever seeks a bride, t’will not be one in near the same state as he.”
Gytha felt her spirits immediately sink. There was no argument she could make against that sad truth. Even if she could think of one, it was best if she kept it to herself. She realized she would do Margaret no good at all by raising hopes that would turn out to be false ones. If name rich, a knight could gain the land and coin he lacked through marriage, obtaining all his bastardry had denied him. That would take precedence over any emotional tie. Purse and property would always rule over love. It was a fact of life she would not deny, deplore it all she might.
Her spirits sank even lower when she was forced to admit that it was the deciding factor in her own marriage. She was secure in her father’s love, yet when it came to marriage, he gave not a moment’s thought to the state of her heart. He looked at her husband’s bloodline, his property, and his purse. His interest was in ensuring that she was well placed and well provided for, not in the vagaries of love. If she ever attempted to suggest some other arrangement, he would undoubtedly think her mad. That opinion would be shared by many another as well.
While she did worry about her emotional future, it was not the greatest of her concerns. Her parents had found love. She had to believe that she had every chance to do likewise. If love did elude her, she could at least find contentment. She sternly told herself that that would be enough.
Pulled from her darkening inner thoughts by Edna’s return, Gytha started to prepare for the evening’s festivities. With most of the guests having already arrived for the wedding, it promised to be a lively time. Gytha fought to regain her usually high spirits. The guests would expect a smiling bride.
