The Deed (14 page)

But you have not finished your meal, she protested.

Nay, but then I have stuffed myself well these past several days, while you have touched
next to nothing as you fretted over your poor fallen husband, he pointed out.

Amaury frowned at his wife with displeasure on hearing this. You have not been eating?

Emma closed her mouth on the protest she had been about to give Lord Blake, and glared at
him instead before turning to her husband. Aye, my lord, I have. When he frowned even
harder at the obvious lie, she added with a reluctant sigh, Just not overly much. Worry
upsets my appetite.

Eat, was all he said before turning and heading for the stairs.

Giving her an apologetic look, Blake grabbed a mutton leg off the table and saluted her
with it. I will just take this to tide me over as I see to my duties as friend.

There is some blessed thistle, my lady.

Emma glanced to where Maude was gesturing. Oh, good! Blessed thistle improves the
appetite. I noticed last night at sup that my husband did not eat much. Mayhap that will
help.

Nodding, Maude moved to gather some of the plant.

If you see any burdock, pick some of that as well, Maude. Tis a good blood purifier.
Butchers broom and red clover too if you chance across some.

Aye, my lady.

Emma grimaced at the womans tone of voice, more than aware that the servant thought she
was going too far in her desire to insure her husbands health.

Emma had been dosing her husband with a combination of medicaments said to increase
general health and strength, ever since he had awakened from his injury. And there was
absolutely nothing wrong with her doing that, she thought defensively, but she knew it was
not so much what she was giving him, as how she was giving them to him that had Maude
upset. Amaury had shown a distressing aversion to taking medicaments, so she had thought
it better to simply sneak them into his drink at meals. Unfortunately the potions had
filled nearly half his tankard and had changed the taste of his ale somewhat. When he had
complained of it, Emma had just told him it was the aftereffects of his head wound. It
might be a sin to lie, but Emma felt sure God would understand. Her husband had to remain
healthy and give her a child. It was the only way to protect her from having to marry
Bertrand.

She was honest enough to admit to herself that mayhap she was taking her precautions a bit
far, but truly, until an heir was born, it did seem better to be safe than sorry. Her gaze
dropped to her flat stomach and she sighed. The wedding night had not produced the hoped
for results. That fact meant that they had to consummate some more. Unfortunately, her
husband had shown no inclination to do so.

Emma had not been too worried at first; after all, he had still been recovering from his
injury. But Amaury had been up and about for several days now. He had spent the last three
days out in the bailey overseeing the men. Surely he was recovered enough to see to his
husbandly duty? She had even mentioned to himwith much blushingthat her womans time had
come and gone, but that hint had had little effect. She was beginning to fear he could not
bring himself to do it.

Sighing, Emma bent to the damiana plants by her feet again. It said in the books she had
on medicinal cures that damiana was a powerful aphrodisiac. If so, then her husband must
have a resistance to the plant, for she had added it to the list of other herbs shed been
dosing his ale with as soon as her womans time had ended, yet he had shown no signs of
increased ardor.

Damiana was also said to be able to cure impotence in men. She wasnt sure if that problem
afflicted her husband, but was worried by the fact that their first conjugal experience
had not resulted in a child. Surely it could not take more than the one time to conceive?
She was positive most women would not forbear and have so many children if it took more
than one or two tries. Of course, now she understood why women were said not to enjoy the
act.

Those women who had had ten or more children must have been clever with herbs and known
what to take to ease the discomfort, she thought as she bent to pluck another plant. As
she dropped it into the basket, her gaze slipped briefly to the willow bark she had
already collected. Amaury had not needed it for several days. This was for herself. Since
her husband showed absolutely no inclination to bed her, she

had every intention of approaching him herself. Which was what the bark was for. This
time, she intended to be prepared for the pain and discomfort of the joining. She would
prepare a drink of hops and white willow bark to ease the pain she knew to expect. She
also intended to drink the unwatered ale she had had her alewife put aside. Between the
two concoctions she hoped that the event would not be nearly so painful. It had felt as if
her husband was trying to rend her apart with the consummation on their wedding night.

If there was an event. Sighing, she bent to pluck another plant. She had little idea of
how to approach the issue. That was distressing. How did other wives ask their husbands to
commit the joining?

Mayhap they didnt have to ask. That was what she feared most.

My lady, Ive found some blessed thistle, burdock, and red clover. I could not find any
butchers broom, though.

Tis all right, Emma murmured, straightening. She placed her hand at her back as she
arched it, her eyes moved over the sky.

Tis getting late, Maude said, following her gaze.

Aye. We should head back. Everyone will be sitting down to sup by the time we get there.

Nodding, the maid hefted her basket and began to follow Emma toward the horses and the
guards that waited with them.

Amaury was fair impatient by the time his wife came riding into the bailey. He had not
been pleased at her announcement that she must go look for more of her roots and barks.
Had she not added that she had used up all of hers on him, he would have refused to allow
her to go. He had sent four men with her, only to decide as soon as she was gone that he
should have sent six. That worry had distracted him all afternoon as he supervised the men
training in the bailey.

Despite his not being conscious to give instructions for so long, Blake and Little George
had seen to everything he would have wanted them to. They had kept the men practicing
daily, including Fulks men, who had proven to be better fighters than expected. They had
also sent troops of men out every day to see to the problem of the bandits. Unfortunately,
the bandits had apparently expected as much, and had not appeared since the attack. So far
they had eluded capture.

Knowing that was what had made him so uncomfortable with his wife being out in the woods.
It was also why he had spent the better part of the afternoon fretting over her. He was
quite surly by the time the call rang out that her ladyship was returning.

Tis about time, he muttered, sheathing the sword he had been waving irritably at his men
as he roared his criticisms and orders at them. He realized he had taken his temper out on
them. He spared a moment to feel guilty about that, then caught sight of his wife riding
into the bailey, headed for the stables. Amaury immediately headed that way himself.

My lord husband.

Amaury swallowed down some of his temper at her smiling greeting and forced what he
thought was a smile to his face. To Emma it looked like a pained grimace, and anxiety
covered her face at once.

Are you in pain, my lord? she asked, slipping quickly off her horse.

Nay.

Feeling dizzy... or weak? Reaching up, she felt his forehead, relieved to find it cool and
dry.

Nay, wife. I am fine.

You are not tired, are you? You have not overdone it today and

Tis more than a week now since my injury, he pointed out with exasperation. And nay, I
have not overdone. I merely supervised my men. Stop fussing, wife.

Oh. Good. Lowering her head, she hid her relief at that news. He was not in pain, not
tired. Tonight she would approach him about reconsummation. If he didnt approach her
himself. He might very well do so yet. Mayhap it merely took several days for damiana to
work. She would give him a double dose in his ale at sup. It could not hurt, she thought.
Then she realized that her husband had been talking to her for several minutes and she had
not heard a word of it.

Dragging her attention away from her own thoughts, she listened to the end of his lecture,
which was actually a poorly disguised order that she not leave the castle grounds again
without at least six men. It was dangerous. The bandits were still about.

Emma nodded solemnly as he finished, then turned and made her way to the castle, her
precious herbs nestled in the basket she held. It was not as late as she had feared. She
had just enough time to boil down this latest batch of damiana before dinner.

Do you feel all right, wife? Amaury frowned as he caught her arm to keep her from falling
backward off the bench. She was terribly unsteady in her seat.

Aye. The word slipped out on a hiccup, and Emma quickly covered her mouth as a giggle
followed, then took the hand away to fan herself. Oh, my, tis hot in here. Is it not,
husband?

Nay. Tis not, Amaury muttered. Bewildered by her odd behavior, he reached out to press his
hand to her forehead as she had done to him repeatedly over the last week. She did not
feel feverish. Wife

Oh, damn me, tis 50 hot! Weaving in her seat slightly, she tugged fretfully at the top of
her gown, trying to get the material away from her skin.

Amaury gaped at her, then glowered over her choice of words and turned to a wide eyed
Blake with an expression that said, What does a husband do in this situation, my lord?

She appears almost to be sotted, Blake said helplessly after regaining his composure
enough to respond to his friends look.

My lord, ladies do not become sotted, Emma lectured, leaning across her husband to wag her
finger in his friends face as she caught his comment.

Mayhap a bath is in order, my lady, Maude murmured, appearing at her mistresss side now. A
bath? Emma swung back to peer at her woman, nearly losing her balance as she did. Oh, aye.
I

would like that. Anything to cool me from this damnable heat.

Amaurys gaze narrowed as he watched Maude patiently help his wife to her feet and walk her
to the stairs.

Think you she is a tippler? Blake asked quietly.

Amaury scowled at the thought, but remained silent. His gaze returned to the stairs his
wife and her maid had ascended, and stayed there until Maude came below stairs once more
and hurried into the kitchen. When she came back out a moment later, a basket over her
arm, Amaury stood and called her over.

Maude hesitated briefly, then walked reluctantly to his side. Aye, my lord?

What is that? he asked, gesturing toward the covered basket in her hand.

Maude pulled the small linen covering back. Tis to scent her ladyships bath.

Amaury peered at the contents, eyebrows rising slightly at the mixture of dried flowers.
Then he noted a small bowl filled with a greenish yellow muck. What is that? He gestured
toward the bowl.

A mixture of chamomile and lemon... for her ladyships hair.

Hmm. Amaury picked up the bowl and sniffed. It wasnt unpleasant. He glanced at the nervous
woman now. Has her ladyship tippled?

Tippled? Maudes voice came out on a slight squeak as her eyes widened. N-nay, my lord. She
appears sotted. A-aye, Maude agreed. She is?! He looked ready to explode at that.

N-nay, my lord!

Then what the devil is ailing her?!

Iit must be the hops, my lord, Maude blurted out.

The hops?

Aye... and the white willow bark.

His bewilderment showed. What about hops and willow bark?

H-her ladyship dosed herself with both before sitting down to sup, Maude confessed. Mayhap
they reacted with the ale from dinner.

Is white willow bark not what she was giving Lord Amaury for his head? Blake asked now,
getting up from his seat to question the servant as well.

A-aye, my lord. Maude nodded at the second man. What is hops? Tis for pain too... or to
ease belly problems. Some take it to calm their nerves. Is my wife ailing? Amaury was
furious at the very thought.

Seeing that, Maude immediately began shaking her head, then sighed and admitted, I do not
know, my lord. She has not said so. Mayhap she is just suffering from the gas. She shifted
uncomfortably before him. By yer leave, my lord. Might I not take this up to her ladyship?
She will be sore disappointed should her bath grow cold ere I get these to her.

Expression grim, Amaury gave a sharp nod, then watched the woman flee the Great Hall
before dropping back to his place at the table.

Tis most likely she has gas, Blake told him reassuringly, catching Amaurys expression as
he retook his own seat. Surely she would have told her woman were she ailing.

Aye, Amaury agreed, but he was worried.

My lady?

Emma opened her eyes at Maudes tentative voice. The servant had helped her with her bath,
then wrapped her in a linen and sat her before the fire to brush her hair. Emma had almost
been wooed into sleep by the warmth from the fire and the soothing stroke of the brush
through her hair.

Reaching up, she felt her tresses, surprised to note that they were almost fully dry
already. Mayhap she had dozed off a bit. It was probably due to the ale. She had double
dosed herself with her herbs, then drunk every drop of ale the cook had put aside for her.
It had taken her emptying and refilling her tankard three times to empty that pail, but it
had had an amazing effect. Truly, she had never felt so... free. So unaffected,
unconcerned, relaxed. It was a wonderful tonic for the night ahead. That thought made her
sigh as she recalled her first experience as wife. It would have gone much easier for her
had she thought to prepare herself like this, she decided. But then, she had not realized
what all it entailed.

My lady? Maude repeated.

Aye?

Yer not ailing, are ye?

Emma turned her head to the woman in surprise, then giggled. Nay, Maude. Why would you
think so?

The servant was silent for a moment, then continued to brush her hair as she confessed, I
saw ye taking the hops and white willow earlier. I thought mayhap ye were ailing?

Nay. Emma stared into the fire and bit her lip, then sighed and admitted, I drank some
unwatered ale too. I thought mayhap twould help with the joining.

Help with the... The brush stilled in her hair.

Aye, Emma murmured, flushing bright red. My womans time came. We did not conceive, so we
needs must reconsummate.

Maudes brows drew together in worry briefly, then she sat back to brush Emmas hair again
before murmuring, Tis true the first time is a mite painful