Married to Her Enemy

‘Stay here.’ Svend’s tone was peremptory, brooking no argument. ‘You’ll be safe.’

‘But I’m the one who was summoned!’

‘It’s best if we speak to him alone.’

‘You said we’d go together!’

‘That was before.’

‘So why can’t I come now?’

‘Because we didn’t stand a chance before.’

‘But—’

‘I don’t trust you!’

She took an involuntary step backwards, too shocked to respond. The look on his face was even worse than before—worse than any look she could have imagined. When he’d spoken of Maren his eyes had glittered with anger and bitterness, but now they were blazing with something else—some fierce emotion she didn’t recognise. Did he hate her so much, then?

‘You’ll see the Earl tonight.’ De Quincey broke the silence at last. ‘Trust me, Lady Aediva, you’ll be perfectly safe with my men, but we have to go. We need to speak to FitzOsbern before he sends someone to arrest the pair of you.’

* * *

‘Promise of goodwill?’ De Quincey gave him a sceptical look as they crossed the bailey.

‘It was the best I could do at short notice.’

‘It might have worked too, if she hadn’t looked so angry.’

Svend grimaced. That was true. For a woman who’d managed to deceive him so completely, she’d been remarkably poor at hiding her feelings around de Quincey.

‘Do you think the Earl will believe it?’

‘I’m not sure. There’s been a spate of Saxon raids recently. He’s not in a temper to forgive rebels—even suspected ones.’

‘She’s not a rebel.’

‘Are you sure?’

No. He wasn’t sure about anything to do with her. After a week in which she’d done little but lie to him he was a long way from sure. He certainly wasn’t going to risk taking her with them to FitzOsbern—couldn’t trust her not to say or do something to get them arrested.

All his warrior’s instincts told him the same thing. He couldn’t trust her. But he still couldn’t give her up.

‘What’s going on?’ De Quincey looked at him meaningfully. ‘You didn’t really give Cille’s name by mistake.’

‘No, I only discovered the truth half an hour before you did. She was trying to protect her sister.’ Against his will, he found himself defending her. ‘She thought if she pretended to be Cille she could stop the marriage. She didn’t know anything about you.’

‘Cille never told her about me?’ De Quincey halted mid-stride, his brows knitting together thoughtfully. ‘Then again, she never told me about the baby. She could have sent me a message. I’ve never claimed to understand women, but this...’

His voice trailed away and Svend stayed silent. Whatever had happened between the Baron and Lady Cille was none of his business. His only concern was the younger sister, and getting her as far away from Redbourn as possible. The sooner she was gone, the sooner he could stop thinking about her and start trying to forget.

‘Do you care for her?’ The Baron’s eyes narrowed inquisitively.

‘She lied to me.’

‘That’s not an answer.’