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That seemed unlikely to Tavia, but what point was there in arguing with him? She did, however, need him to understand she was not comfortable with Marta.
“I find myself uneasy with Marta, I would prefer Hertha to tend me.”
“Hertha will help the healer. Marta will tend you and I will hear no more about it,” he said and turned to leave once again.
“Please,” she found herself saying and she was relieved that he turned around. “I need time to adjust to my new home, the people here, and to you. I ask that you at least allow Hertha to share my care with Marta so I may grow accustomed to her.” That he stood staring at her and not immediately denying her request gave her hope.
Bhric walked over to his wife. “This is your home now. These are your people, your family. And I am your husband whether you like it or not. If you were strong, you would accept your fate and do whatever was necessary to be a good wife. And you would have never kept your weakness from me let alone trap me once I told you I would not honor the agreement. Or fling yourself into the arms of another man making me trust you even less. So, I care not if you adjust, I only care that you obey.”
He turned away from her and Tavia was glad he did, for she trembled not from fright but from anger. She bit her tongue to keep hold of it, though what did it matter? He cared not about her, so why should she worry what she said to him?
She called out at him. “You know nothing about me.”
He spun around. “I know you are weak, you lie, and I cannot trust you.”
“And you are far from honorable when you decided to end the marriage arrangement not only agreed upon in good faith, but the documents signed. As for your strength… it is also your weakness, for you cannot see beyond it.”
“You spew nonsense with a sharp tongue that I will not tolerate just as I cannot tolerate your presence. Keep a silent tongue around me, suffer coupling with me and I with you until you are with child, then we will see little of each other. But we will not couple until after your monthly bleed. You made a point of leaving blood on the bedding. And after seeing how you were with the merchant, I know not if it was to make me think I took your virginity or if it was to hide the fact that you have been with another man and carry his bairn.” He nodded at the garments on the chair. “You will wear my peoples’ garments for the celebration. Unfortunately, they will not be worn with honor.”
Tavia rested a hand to her chest as her husband turned and left the room, then sank to the bench nearby. His words were like a knife to her heart. She never imagined him thinking that of her. How he must hate her. How did she share a life with a man who hated her? How did she couple with a man who hated her? How did she survive this marriage?
Tears ran down her cheeks. Her father had spoken often of her mother and the love they had for each other. He had painted such a beautiful picture of their love that it was a dream of hers to find the same someday. More tears fell as she felt her dream slowly die.
“Tears will do you no good,” Marta snapped when she entered the room.
Had the woman heard what Bhric had said to her? Would she share the news with others? What then would people think of her?
Tavia was tired of defending herself. It was all she had done since arriving here only a few short hours ago and it had left her drained. She wanted no more of it. She would sit quietly like an obedient wife tonight and retire to her bedchamber as soon as possible.
She wiped at her wet cheeks. “Tears will also do me no harm.”
“Bah,” Marta said as if scolding. “Time to wash and dress.”
With a sense of defeat washing over her, Tavia allowed the woman to tend her.
Marta gave her a light washing from a fresh bucket of water, her hands a bit rough except when she got to her leg.
“What happened to your leg?” Marta asked.
“It does not concern you,” Tavia said, having no intention of discussing it with her.
The woman turned an odd look on her and appeared as if she might demand to know, then stopped and continued with her task.
Tavia wondered about Marta. She did not seem a pleasant woman. Or was she unpleasant because of the task Bhric had assigned her? Or was she set upon Tavia to spy on her? Had she been made aware that Lord Bhric was not pleased with his new wife? If that was so, she surely would not be able to trust the woman or make any friends here when they were all faithful to Bhric.
Marta helped Tavia into a gray linen underdress, then began applying layer after layer until Tavia felt weighted down from the various wool garments. A lovely woolen shawl was the last garment Marta added, tying the ends in a knot at her chest.
“Now for your hair,” Marta said and got busy.
Tavia cringed at the tight braids Marta fashioned in her hair then coiled around her head and secured with bone combs. She was stunned to see the woman smile when she finished.
“Now you look like a proper Northman’s wife.”
Tavia did not agree. She had wed Lord Bhric, ruler of the Clan MacShane, not a Northman, but she said nothing.
“The festivities have probably started. I must go see that all goes well. Come, I will see you to the Great Hall,” Marta said, stretching her hand out.
“I need a moment to myself. I will be down shortly.”
