“Aye. Do not let him shake you or push you about in his fury. ’Tis unwise in your condition.”
“My condition?” Gytha spoke calmly, certain that Edna was about to confirm something she had begun to strongly suspect herself.
“The babe you carry. Surely you knew?”
“I suspected. But are you sure?” she whispered, placing her hand over her stomach.
“Aye. Your woman’s time has failed to come thrice, nearly four times. You have been sick, though only a little in the morns. Aye, and your shape changes. I have little doubt that you carry his lordship’s child.”
“Do you know much about this?”
“Well…some.”
“Are there things I should not do?” It was impossible to stop the blush that darkened her cheeks, and it served better than any words could to tell Edna what ‘things’ she referred to.
Blushing a little herself, Edna replied, “Nay. Just do not let yourself grow too weary or get knocked about. ’Tis a bad time for this?”
“’Tis not the best, Edna.” Gytha sighed as she headed towards the great hall.
Knowing she was with child left Gytha with an odd mixture of emotions. She loved Thayer, loved him so much it could frighten her at times, so she was elated to be carrying his child. But for now, she had to hide that emotion. First she had to clear away what lay between them. She feared how matters could turn if that was not accomplished. Her hurt would harden. The coolness she now showed him could grow real, no longer simply a tool to prod him into a revealing confrontation. That would be dreadful for a child.
“Gytha.”
Startled out of her dark thoughts, Gytha gasped, then saw Margaret. “Oh, you surprised me. Why are you lurking there?” she asked as Margaret stepped out of the shadowed niches beneath the stairs.
“I wanted to speak with you before we join the men.”
“’Tis astounding how marital troubles free people’s tongues,” murmured Gytha.
Margaret ignored that. “I know what you plan. Must you anger him?”
“Aye—I must.”
“Oh, Gytha, I cannot like it.”
“T’will make him speak up. That is all important.”
“But are you certain you want to hear all he might say?”
“Not at all, but I will hear it. I know what you worry about, for I share that concern. I left my man unguarded, within reach of a viper who made no secret of wanting him. He could easily have slipped beneath her spell again. I think I can forgive that.”
“Are you certain?”
“Aye. I knew what could happen even as I left him there.”
“Then why did you leave him?”
“Do you really think we could have settled our problems at court? Amongst the spite, the ploys, the treachery?”
Sighing, Margaret shook her head. “Nay, of course not.”
“Also, the wound was too fresh. I really needed time to heal a little. In my pain, I would have driven him from me. Then I may well have seen him turn to another. That would surely have added to our troubles.”
“I cannot believe he would break vows. He is an honorable man.”
“Very honorable. He once told me he would never take a lover as long as I never took one or threw him from my bed.” She nodded when Margaret grimaced. “Aye, he could well have seen my leaving as throwing him from my bed.”
Moving to stand next to Gytha, Margaret took her cousin’s hands in hers. “That does not mean he did anything.”
