Lord Leofric invites Lady Eadgith

Lord Leofric lay with his eyes half-​​closed and stroked his fingertips lightly over his wife’s shoulder. Lady Eadgith thought to herself that the only thing that could have made her happier then would have been that God make her cat enough to purr. His arms were as strong as she remembered, and they were around her, and for the first time in over fifteen years, she did not feel unwanted.

“Do you know that I shall be leaving for a few days?” he asked her. His deep voice came down as a rumble into his chest, on which her head lay.

“I know.”

“I want to see how utterly my affairs are coming apart at home. And Theobald will manage, I think, to keep the kingdom from falling in my absence.”

“I shall miss you,” she murmured.

“Hmm!” he sniffed. “Damn! That won’t do.”

“Then don’t go,” she smiled.

“I should rather take you with me.”

“With you!” she gasped and lifted her head. “There!”

“You have never been there, have you?”

“Certainly not.”

“Then you don’t know what you miss, silly duck. You have no idea how beautiful the meadows are at this time of year. I have more gold than Croesus in September. A pity it withers.”

Eadgith was silent. The state of his meadows was of no concern to her, whether in summer or in winter. But her body had begun to tremble at the idea of what he could possibly mean by offering her to take her there–to that home he shared with that woman.

But she could not know what he meant. The workings of his mind had always been beyond her.

“Is it a long ride?” she asked.

“Three hours or so. But it’s worth taking it slowly at this time of the year. And you have given me every reason to believe you like long rides,” he said and pinched her hip.

“Not three hours!” she laughed.

“I think you would if I let you.”

“I would have to take it very slowly.”

“I recommend you let the horse set the pace.”

“Agreed,” she said.

“So you will come?”

“I didn’t mean that ride.”

“Oh!” he laughed and rolled her onto her back. “I think you have ridden far enough for one day, young lady.”

“The horse wants a turn?”

“Son of a serpent! I forgot what a hussy you are.”

He pushed her legs apart with his knee and moved over her. She tried to wrap her arms around his back to pull him closer, but he knocked them up onto his shoulders instead. She did not often dare lay her hands on his back, and now she wondered whether he meant to keep her from touching it, or whether he only intended to frustrate her.

“I am what you made me,” she smiled.

“You are my masterpiece. Now tell me you will come.”

“Or else?”

“Or else wait until my arms are too tired to hold me above you any longer, and then you will have what you want with no trouble taken.”

“Except the wait.”

“God help her! The wait might kill her!” He lowered himself just enough to kiss her on the nose. “Now tell me you will come. I don’t know how long I can wait, either.”

She stared up at him, trying to understand.

“Let us be alone for a while,” he said softly. “I’m tired of Hilda’s winks and Eadie’s sighs.”

“Ohh…”

“Mind you, I’m certain the castle has been overrun by rats and urchins since I left, and I shan’t take you in there, but you might have a look at the grounds and tell me where I might build my new tower.”

“Your new tower?”

“Sigefrith tells me that the gallant thing to do before shutting a fair lady up in a tower is to ask her to choose the view she would like when she is gazing out the window and sighing after her knight and his white horse.”

“Your new tower…”

“Please come,” he said.

He had had the same imploring eyes when he had held his hand out over the edge of the bed that first night and asked her to stay – only now the eyes were turned fully on her and not towards the ceiling.

She had regretted not doing as he had asked that first night, but again she hesitated. She did not know all that was behind what he asked tonight. She did not believe in the rats and urchins, but there were still Leila and her children, and she did not know what he meant by any of them. Moreover, there were three hours between that castle and her children and grandchildren.

His eyes were beginning to despair. She imagined he could read her thoughts behind her own.

It was a risk. It would be a sacrifice. But to be wanted! Neither Eadie nor Sigefrith truly wanted her around. They would miss her, but they had their own lives, and they would be equally happy without her. She did not think she could be happy without him. And she wanted to live again.

“Do you want me?” she asked.

“Yes! But do you want me?”

“Yes, yes!” she whispered, stunned that he could imagine she wouldn’t. She closed her eyes and pulled him down upon her with such sudden force that his arms could not hold him up – or perhaps he simply let himself fall.