‘You seemed prepared to go to any lengths to protect your sister.’
‘I wouldn’t do that.’
He shrugged callously. ‘You were pretending to be someone else. How do I know what else you were pretending?’
Aediva clenched her hands into fists, tempted to pick up the nearest blunt instrument and hit him with it. So that was what he thought of her? That she was the kind of woman who would use her body to get her own way? Every intimate moment between them felt tainted. Bad enough that he didn’t trust her, but now he’d insulted her too! How dared he insult her and ask for her hand in marriage at the same time?
‘How could you think such a thing?’
He took another step towards her, that icy demeanour slipping. ‘How could you lie to me for so long?’
‘I couldn’t tell you the truth!’
‘Not even last night?’
She faltered, the memory of their moonlit kiss arresting her anger. ‘I thought I was doing what was best.’
‘You didn’t trust me.’
‘I couldn’t take the chance!’
‘After I saved you from a bolting horse and nursed you through a fever? After everything I told you about Maren? You still didn’t trust me?’
‘What
could you have done?’ She squared up to him combatively. ‘If I’d told you the truth then you’d have had to arrest me. Otherwise you’d have been a traitor, an...’
She stopped and he raised an eyebrow, his lips curling sardonically as he finished the sentence for her. ‘An outlaw?’
‘Yes.’ She jutted her chin up. ‘Would you have thanked me for that?’
‘No. But did you really think I’d arrest you?’
She caught her breath. Had she truly thought that? No, somehow she’d known from the first that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. She’d been afraid of him discovering the truth, but not because of that. She’d feared something else entirely—had feared him hating her the way he hated her now.
She shook her head hopelessly. ‘I was going to tell you this morning at the waterfall. I wanted to tell you. But then Sir Hugh arrived and it was too late.’
For an instant his expression seemed to waver. Then it hardened again, smoothing out into a hard, cynical mask. ‘It is too late. For that and for this. The Earl’s waiting. If you want to decline his proposal you can do it in person.’
‘Now?’
How could she decide right now? There was too much to think about—for herself and for Etton too! How could she possibly make such a momentous decision so quickly?
He nodded icily. ‘Marry me or don’t. It’s up to you. But decide quickly. I’ll wait outside.’
* * *
Svend let the oxhide fall shut behind him, tempted to wrench it off with his hands. Keeping his emotions under control had been far harder than he’d expected. An enemy he could face down and fight, but who was she? Friend or foe? He was used to clarity, used to knowing who his enemy was. Damn it, where was a rebel raid when he needed one?
He rested his head against the timbered wall, letting his breathing return to normal. He shouldn’t have gone in unannounced, but when she hadn’t responded to his call he’d been afraid that she’d done something reckless and run away.
And when he’d seen her... His breathing had quickened again. Incredibly, she’d looked even more desirable than she had at the waterfall. The memory of her naked beauty was seared into his memory, but her loose-fitting shift and tumbling curls had been almost a provocation too far. Standing on the coffer, her small breasts on a level with his face, she’d looked so wantonly desirable it had been all he could do not to haul her into his arms and consummate their marriage right then.
He forced his body back under control. Bedding her would only make his life more complicated, and he needed clarity where she was concerned. Whatever his heart felt, his head was still in command—at least for now.
She hadn’t given him a definite answer about the marriage, but he’d been surprised at how calmly she’d taken the Earl’s command. She’d actually seemed more shocked than angry, had hardly ranted about Normans at all.
The thought of Edmund had occurred to him only belatedly, sending a surge of jealousy coursing through his veins. Until that moment he’d thought that he wanted a way out of the marriage, but when the possibility had arisen he’d found himself wanting to fight for her instead. He’d insulted her by asking, but he’d needed to be sure. Was she married or not? And if she wasn’t...if her heart and body were still untouched...if she’d kissed him because she wanted to and not simply because she was deceiving him... The thought was more than a little enticing.