His aunt laughed harshly.
“Nay. Not that one!”
She then sighed, casting Arthen a look filled with pity, which he hated.
“You’ve always been blind about her. And far too soft. Did you even punish her for what she did?”
“I did.”
Arthen felt loath to speak of the punishment to his aunt, because whenever he thought of it, he conjured up naughty love play instead of fair chastisement.
“She does not seem repentant to me. So you should strive to do better than this,” his aunt said with a shake of her head.
Arthen said nothing. He thought upon other husbands of his acquaintance who disciplined their wives over their knee for far lesser offences than what Rowena had done. Would such discipline teach Rowena to behave better than she had? And was it wrong of him to think upon it with strange excitement?
CHAPTER 5
At dusk, Aunt Royse departed to go to her own house, leaving Arthen only with Rowena and his son. Before Rowena had run away, her mother Hild had often been here to watch over the child and they’d even had a serving girl to help with household chores from time to time, but Rowena’s recklessness had cost Arthen good coin and they could no longer afford to pay a servant. It had been fortunate that his uncle’s wife had been willing to help, with both Hild and Rowena gone, but she was no longer a young woman and had her own household to deal with. Now that Rowena was back, the care of his household should fall upon her shoulders, but Arthen knew Rowena to be unpredictable and mischievous. It was not that she was not a diligent housekeeper whenever she wished to be, only that, in their last months together, she’d no longer seemed interested in household chores, proclaiming that, as the noble lady she wanted to be, they were far beneath her.
Shaking his head to himself and not knowing how his married life was to unfold next, Arthen stepped into the hall. There he found Rowena asleep on the floor with her arms around Robin who’d also dozed off right where he’d been showing his mother his toys. He took a while to look uponthe beautiful picture the woman and the child were making in their sleep, loath to take Robin away to put him in his cot, but knowing it was well past the child's bedtime already.
At last, Rowena stirred, rubbing her eyes and looking around in some confusion.
“The child?” she inquired at once, and Arthen frowned, noting she had not even deigned to speak her son’s name.
“I’ve just put him to bed,” he replied tersely.
He felt quite angry with her, although at this time she’d done nothing wrong. Yet he recalled the careless way she’d behaved to their son before and it seemed to him even more at odds with the caring she’d shown today for Robin.
Rowena rose to her feet, patting her gown and her hair which was now in disarray. He’d noted in displeasure she no longer wore a headdress, as all married women did. He’d always loved to see her fair hair uncovered, but he knew only too well that in the last months she’d pretended to be an unwed maiden, spurning their marriage vows and breaking faith with him.
Rowena might have perceived his dark scowl because she took a step back, flinching from him, as if he’d meant to slap her. He never had and never would. But her fear in recoiling from him was palpable. He smiled darkly, beginning to understand one of the men she’d lain with in their months apart must have behaved thus to her. Yet, instead of vindication, he felt only sadness and bitterness.
“We should ready for bed,” he said, making his voice blank.
She nodded at once, but then began to glance around her warily.
Emma stifleda curse under her breath, understanding that, in her weariness, she had not thought this through. This man believed they were wed. While he’d refrained from touching her during their journey, apart from that shamefully pleasurable moment when he’d salved her bottom, Emma had not missed the way he looked at her whenever he thought she could not perceive it. In truth, she’d never seen a man look at her with such undisguised hunger in his eyes. What could she have been thinking? What if Master Archer would want to claim the rights he thought he had since they’d regained his home?
“I-I cannot lie with you!” she blurted out artlessly, searching her brain for words to speak to him that would make him understand she was not truly who he thought she was.
Master Archer laughed harshly.
“What makes you think I’d wish to lie withyou? And touch and caress what several other men have touched and caressed?” he said in a savage voice.
He strode away from her angrily, to go to where the bedchamber was, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief mingled with strange disappointment at seeing him go. She was left alone in the hall to ponder on what she was to do next. Certainly, she could make her escape now, just as she’d always wished, but she was in a town unfamiliar to her, at night, and Emma was wise enough to understand she would meet peril if she decided to leave now. It was sensible to wait until morning, she resolved as she headed to the warm kitchen. She thought upon the small boy she’d met today for a while, marvelling at how bright and beautiful he was, and uncomprehending how Rowena could have deserted him. No wonder Master Archer was so angry with her. He was entitled to every bit of his anger.
Sighing, and knowing she might never get to set eyes again on the beautiful child who now lay asleep in the bedchamber, Emma left the hall to step into the tidy kitchen, looking forwater to heat, in order to wash the grime and road dust from her journey. She was sweaty and dirty, and she hadn’t even had a change of clothes with her when Master Archer had forcibly dragged her away.
She needed to clean herself, as well as wash and hang out to dry the underdress which felt itchy and soiled against her skin. Painstakingly, she lifted the bucket of clear water she saw lying by the window, and spotted a cauldron to place over the hearth to heat.
Emma grunted with effort, attempting to pour the water into the cauldron. As yet, she had no notion how she was going to get the cauldron of water to heat over the hearth, but she felt confident she would eventually be able to achieve this even without a servant to do it for her.
“What are you doing?” a grim voice behind her made her startle and nearly drop the bucket she was painstakingly trying to hold.
With a mighty effort, she put it down and turned to face an angry Master Archer who was looking at her in sheer displeasure.
“I thought to prepare a bath,”