“I cannot say I did not. After all, I am hardly a saint.”
“You’re vile,” Emma repeated with flaming cheeks.
“Am I now? Would you rather I had provided a lesson, not unlike the one you received at the inn not long ago, for the benefit of all those gathered today in church?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.
She shook her head vigorously.
“Nay!”
But as they walked silently, by each other’s side, and the blaze of her anger subsided, Emma began to see that his words had not been a threat. It seemed plain the priest was angered and wanted to see her humbled and chastised. And Master Archer’s refusal to denounce his wife’s treachery in front of everyone and his making light of it instead of openly condemning her had spared her from a much harsher punishment than a spanking from her husband. The priest could well have called for a flogging if Master Archer had revealed Rowena’s deeds.
“You sought to spare me. Why?” she muttered at last.
He cast her an unfathomable look.
“Your shame is my shame, since we’re bound. Do you think I’m so keen on others witnessing my humiliation?”
He was speaking reason, yet Emma glanced at him through the corner of her eye, knowing too well that, though he’d spanked her, he hadn’t done that even half as harshly asRowena’s deeds deserved. And he had not spoken even one single ugly word of shame to berate her. Suppressing a bitter sigh, she compared him to other men of her acquaintance. Noblemen. And she did not find him lacking. Instead, she had to own up he was behaving far more nobly than most noblemen she knew.
“Thank you,” she found herself unwittingly whispering.
“What are you thanking me for? The spankings you received, I reckon,” he cast out, yet his voice did not sound mocking, as it had in church.
Silence fell again between them, as they kept on walking side by side. At last, Master Archer spoke in a resolute tone, “I know Alcuin. He is most spiteful and enjoys seeing others belittled. He takes advantage of the frock he wears. It’s best we were out of his sight for a while. I have resolved we go and see your mother at Severborough where she’s taken the veil.”
“But what of Robin?”
“My aunt and Maggie will see to him. It’s but for a few days. Your mother will be glad to see you hale.”
Emma stopped in her tracks and cast him a mutinous look. She did not wish to leave the child at this time. Besides, she could not go to Severborough. Her own mother, Lady Edith de Laval, had also taken the veil there by a strange twist of fate. And Emma was afraid her true mother might set eyes upon her.
“Nay, I will not go,” she said with a rebellious tilt of her head. “Not even if you spank me,” she added belatedly, recalling that her behind was still somewhat sore this morning.
“Oh, so it is indeed another spanking you wish for,” he said, arching an eyebrow.
Yet his voice held heat in it, and Emma struggled hard not to conjure up the wickedness which lay between them, as they both well knew.
“Nay,” she muttered, utterly flustered, and to her own ears her tone sounded unconvincing.
They locked gazes, and it was he who lowered his eyes first, biting his lip and muttering under his breath. At last he looked upon her again, and said in a voice which sounded weary, “Wife, desist. No more wicked games. No more reckless defiance. Your mother wants to glance upon you. And it is best we went.”
“I cannot leave the child.”
“Yet you had no trouble leaving him before, did you?” he countered, his voice now high and fully angry.
Emma tempered her own rage and anxiety, and clamped her mouth shut, recalling he believed her Rowena. He was entitled to his anger, and she strived to see things from where he stood. He had attempted to be fair to a treacherous wife, who was now refusing to go and see the mother who’d taken the veil on her account. A lesser man would have struck her for her present behaviour. Yet Master Archer was attempting to reason with her. And his threat of a spanking was only part of the strange mischief which lay between them.
“Fine, husband,” she found herself muttering. “Just for a few days.”
She resolved she would somehow find a way to prevent her true mother from setting eyes upon her. Arthen now cast her a glance which held some astonishment in it, as if he was amazed she’d given in so easily. But soon Emma had no more time to wonder of what lay between them, as they regained their home, and she felt bound to see to the child, as well as to the other chores in the new life she had chosen.
CHAPTER 10
It was a two-day journey to Severborugh Priory, and Arthen had resolved they should spend the night at an inn not far away from the place they sought. Yet the sleeping quarters reserved for commoners were quite crowded at this time and it was fortunate he had brought extra coin to pay dearly for the very last of the pallets left. Both he and Rowena were weary, and, after a hurried repast, they went to seek their cramped sleeping quarters for the night. His wife was silent, as she’d been throughout the whole journey, when they both readied for bed. Arthen thought sleep would soon come even if, in this cramped bedding, his wife’s shapely thigh was now tantalizingly pressed against his own body. Yet sleep wouldn't come, and as he closed his eyes, he well perceived frenzied noises coming from another pallet which lay quite close to their own. Heaving a sigh, he soon understood the sounds he was hearing were lovemaking, and the people who occupied the next pallet were, as it often happened with those used to sharing sleeping quarters with others, quite unconcerned that everyone could hear what was going on.
Rowena shifted next to him, and it seemed to him she pressed her body even closer to his own than before. The womanon the neighbouring pallet moaned wantonly, and Arthen bit hard into his lip, stifling a curse under his breath.
“Do you think we should say something?” he heard Rowena whisper urgently in his ear.