His step slowed and his brows drew together as he saw one of Finnie’s small trunks open on the dresser. Jewelry and hair bobs spilled out and poking out of the top was the edge of a small envelope used by herbalists to hold tinctures or powders to prepare draughts.
Frey moved to it automatically, feeling mild surprise. Except for the falsehood she told of being unwell when they argued about Viola, Finnie had not ever complained of feeling sick and he knew the adela tree bark used for tea was always ritually held in a purple pouch as a nod to the goddess, not to mention, she’d told him she only had enough for that one cup.
When he arrived at the dresser, he saw there was more than one of these small envelopes in her trunk. In fact, there were several. He lifted one out, folded open the top, put it to his nose and he smelled a hint of citrus, rosemary, ginger all of it nearly overwhelmed by the aroma of mint.
His body froze but even so heat burned from his gut upwards, setting fire to his chest.
He knew that smell.
Pennyrium.
Pennyrium.
“Bloody hell,” he whispered, that whisper shaking with fury.
His wife was dosing with gods damned pennyrium to guard against conceiving his gods damned child.
Without his knowledge.
And without, except for a brief conversation a long bloody time ago that by no means had ended in a definite bloody decision, without discussion.
And further, without his permission.
He pulled in a deep breath to calm the fire in his chest.
This did not work.
Then he reminded himself his wife was of another world. Perhaps, in her world, females did this regularly.
But he could not fathom that. He could not fathom any world where such an integral discussion between any wife and her husband, especially considering the bloody conception of a gods damned child meant the continued peaceful rule of an entire, bloody kingdom, for the gods sakes, would not only happen between that wife and her gods damned husband but would be crucial.
And further, she was the one who introduced the subject in the first damned place. Clearly, in her world, this was discussed amongst partners and decisions made prior to any action.
He stared at the packet in his hand.
Pennyrium. Taken daily it very rarely failed to prevent a woman getting with child. And the longer it was utilized, the longer it took for its effects to clear after it was ceased. In some instances, when women had recklessly used it for years, it had made them infertile.
She could have chosen differently but then again, if she had, it would mean contacting a witch to cast a spell or speaking with him to convince him to wear a sheath something, admittedly, he had no bloody intention of doing with his damned wife especially since that wife was Finnie and he was not about to shield his sex from hers and thus have a bloody, gods damned barrier between them not to mention diminish the pleasure she gave him.
So she had decided on pennyrium.
Bloody hell.
Frey folded over the envelope and tucked it back in her trunk. Then he found his gloves and exited the room.
He did not, however, go outside to watch Finnie finish working with Annar and her bow.
No, he found the first of his men he could find, which was Oleg, then he ordered tersely, “Find Ruben and send him to me in my study immediately.”
Oleg grunted, jerked up his chin and moved away.
Frey went to his study which had a window that faced the back garden where Finnie, looking too tempting by half in her tight breeches with her skin now honeyed by the kiss of Hawkvale’s bright sun, was at the bow, her target now thirty feet away instead of the twenty where she’d started as she had improved and Annar felt he should increase her challenge.
Annar was standing behind her, Skylar at her side, his own target twenty feet away, his bow shorter and easier for him to wield.
Frey tossed his gloves on his desk and turned back to the window to watch his wife.
She was paying more attention to Skylar than her task, as she always did and watching it, Frey’s mouth grew tight.
She was brilliant with the boy and refused to leave him behind with the crew on his ship as Frey usually did. She had said she wanted his lessons to continue but this was nonsense. She wanted time to light those dark places the boy had haunting his soul.
And she did. She didn’t work miracles but she tended him gently, cautiously and regularly giving him just enough distance and closing in only when Skylar offered her a sign he was comfortable with her doing so.
Then, not long ago, all her careful tending broke through and the boy blossomed.
Hell, Frey heard their laughter while they were in this same bloody room not two bloody hours ago while she was working with him on his letters and numbers.
She’d make a brilliant gods damned mother. Why in the bloody hell was she dosing with pennyrium?
“Frey?” Ruben called his name and Frey turned from the window to see his man walking into the room.
“The door, Ben,” Frey ordered, Ruben stopped, gave him a look then turned back and closed the door before he walked into the room and stopped four feet from Frey.
“You don’t look happy,” Ruben observed.
“This would be because I am not,” Frey replied.
Ruben said nothing.
Frey did. “Upstairs, in Finnie’s trunk on the dresser, you’ll find several envelopes of pennyrium.” Ruben blinked, his chest expanded with his big breath and he crossed his arms over it but Frey kept speaking. “Count them. Then go to the herbalist in the village. Have her create a powder that very closely resembles the sight, smell and taste of pennyrium but has none of its medicinal properties. Purchase the exact quantity of the exact same number of envelopes and then switch them with what’s in Finnie’s trunk. Then dispose immediately of what’s in that trunk.”
Ruben didn’t move and he still did not speak.
“Ben, this has to happen today. We leave on the morrow,” Frey prompted.
“I take it you didn’t know Finnie was dosing with pennyrium,” Ruben remarked.
“You take that correctly.”
Ruben nodded but still didn’t move.
“Ruben,” Frey growled.
“You remember Olivia,” Ruben stated.
Frey did and that was why his jaw got tight and he crossed his arms on his chest as well.
“I did not ask you here for a lecture, Ben, I asked you here to give you an order.”
“I am your man, Frey, but I am also your friend,” Ruben replied. “And as your friend, I advise you to ask your wife here for a discussion rather than switch her draughts on the sly.”
The burn in Frey’s chest intensified.
“I appreciate you taking the time to give me your opinion regardless that I didn’t ask for it,” Frey said softly, his tone unmistakable and Ruben wouldn’t mistake it, they’d known each other over a decade and he’d heard it many times.
He still ignored it.
“Frey,” Ruben returned softly, “Olivia made this decision for us. Yes, if she hadn’t, I would not have Lincoln. And yes, now, seven years later, I could not imagine my life without Linc. What I can tell you is, when I was under the assumption she was taking the pennyrium as this was what I told her to do and she was not, she made that choice on her own, acted without my knowledge and she told me she was with my child, I was far from happy. You know this. You and Thad were called to pull me out of her cottage when the level of my anger erased my common sense after the news was delivered. I urge you to think about how Finnie would feel if she learns you have essentially done the same.”
“I do remember this, Ruben, and you were justifiably angry,” Frey returned. “She was your woman, you are a man and it is your right to make this decision, not hers. You’d informed her of your decision regarding pennyrium and she did not bow to that decision. Your reaction was not wrong and your anger did erase your common sense at the time, though she did not feel the power of your hand and many of the men thought she should. However, you also did not bring charges as you could. I respected your decision and understood you did not wish your son’s mother to spend the duration of her pregnancy in bound service to her realm. Your leniency saved Olivia that sentence but Olivia’s decision lost her you for you never went back to her bed and, I have heard, no man does for fear of the same befalling him.”