Married to Her Enemy

‘You ask a lot of questions, Norman.’ Her expression was guarded.

‘I’m simply confused. Since the death of your husband, you’ve inherited his lands, have you not?’

‘No. Leofric had a younger brother. He’s the ealdorman now.’

‘He forfeited that position when he refused to swear fealty to the King and joined the rebels. Surely you knew that?’

‘Forfeited under Norman law. I don’t have to accept it.’

‘It would be wise if you did.’ His voice was low, but the veiled threat was unmistakable. ‘In any case, you’re now mistress of one of the largest estates in England.’

She looked less than impressed. ‘What of it?’

‘You left Redbourn in something of a hurry, my lady. It’s time for you to return home.’

She froze instantly. If he’d told her Redbourn had burnt to the ground she couldn’t have looked more horrified. ‘And if I don’t wish to go?’

‘Your people are vulnerable and afraid. As the ealdorman’s widow it’s your duty to take care of them. Or did you forget that when you ran away?’

‘I told you—I came to look after my sister.

I have a duty to her as well.’

‘And yet you ran away by yourself, without telling anyone where you were going. That doesn’t speak of a particularly clear conscience.’

‘How dare you? My reasons for leaving are none of your concern.’

‘You still have a duty to come back.’

‘Duty?’ She gave a brittle laugh. ‘Ironic for a Norman to be worried about Saxons!’

She whirled away but he caught her wrist, pulling her back again. ‘Even a Norman understands duty.’

‘Let me go!’

‘Forgive me.’ His tone was anything but apologetic. ‘But my orders come from the King. He was most displeased to hear that you’d left Redbourn.’

‘The Conqueror is at Redbourn?’

‘The King,’ he corrected her. ‘King William was crowned in December. But, no, he returned to Normandy in the spring. He left his half-brother Bishop Odo in charge, along with his cousin William FitzOsbern. He’s the one waiting for you at Redbourn.’

‘The King’s cousin wants to see me?’

He nodded slowly. His fingers were still wrapped around her arm, but he felt strangely reluctant to pull them away. He’d held her wrists before... The memory of her writhing beneath him flashed through his mind, heating his blood. He could feel the quickening of her pulse against his thumb and fought the urge to caress it.

‘Why?’ She looked panicked. ‘What does he want with me?’

He wishes for you to marry again.

The answer sprang to his lips, but the obvious fear in her voice made him hesitate. With his hand gripping her arm he felt suddenly, irrationally, protective. It wasn’t his place to tell her the Earl’s plans, but she was watching him, no longer defiant but frightened, asking him a question. He felt a stirring in his chest—something he hadn’t felt in a long time—as if something were shifting inside of him. Damn it all, how could such a small woman have such a powerful effect on his senses?

‘He intends for you to marry again,’ he said softly, surprising himself.

‘Marry a Norman?’

She staggered backwards, the colour draining from her face, and he dropped her wrist instantly, the protective urge evaporating.

‘That is something I wouldn’t say to FitzOsbern, my lady.’