She glared at him. So much for her attempt to act like a lady. Just when she’d thought things couldn’t get any worse, it seemed he didn’t like her dress either.
They reached the antechamber and he turned away from the main door, heading towards a narrow staircase in the corner.
‘Aren’t we going to Cille’s chamber?’ She twisted her head in surprise.
‘No.’ His step didn’t falter. ‘The Earl’s given us use of the main chamber a day early. He thought we might be more comfortable there.’
‘Oh.’
She kept her face averted as they entered the room and he kicked the door shut behind them. A fire was blazing in the hearth and the floor was strewn with fresh rushes, making it look new and homely, bigger and more luxurious than any bedchamber she’d ever been in before. If she’d been on her own she might have found it inviting. In Svend’s arms she found her eyes drawn inexorably to the large, intricately carved wooden bed in the centre.
She’d barely had a chance to look before he dropped her unceremoniously on top of it, tipping her in a tangle of skirts and sleeves onto the softest, most comfortable mattress she’d ever imagined. For a moment she was tempted to stay put, before scrambling up again hurriedly as he started to undress.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Svend unfastened his belt, letting it coil in a heap on a floor. ‘It’s been a long day. I’m going to bed.’
‘But you said that you... That we wouldn’t...’
‘We’re not.’ He pulled his tunic over his head and tossed it aside. ‘I told you—you’re safe with me. This is a marriage of convenience. I want it as much as you do.’
‘I don’t want it at all!’
She swung her legs off the side of the bed, affronted. No groom could have looked less pleased to be alone with his bride. How dared he talk as if he were the injured party when she’d practically been blackmailed into marriage?
‘I’ll sleep on the floor.’
He kicked his boots into a corner with a sigh. ‘Aediva, unless you want this marriage annulled then we have to at least pretend to share a bed.’
At least? She looked up in alarm. The words suggested the possibility of more.
‘Who’s going to know where I sleep? We’re sharing a room, aren’t we?’
‘We are.’
His hands dropped to the ties of his hose and she averted her eyes quickly, though not before she saw the flash of humour in his.
‘So long as you explain what you’re doing to the Earl’s men.’
‘What?’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hose fall to the floor.
‘Let’s just say they like to make sure the marriage contract is sealed. But if you can think of a reason why you’re down there and I’m up here... Perhaps you can say you rolled off?’
‘But surely they won’t come in here?’
‘Not if they value their limbs.’ He laid himself out on the bed with an exaggerated groan. ‘Unless the Earl orders it. Then they’d have no choice.’
‘But...’
‘We’ll have to wait and see.’ He gave a sardonic laugh. ‘Then at least we’ll have some excitement tonight.’
She shot him a dark look. What kind of barbaric Norman custom was that? She had a feeling he was trying to scare her, but it sounded plausible enough to be true. Well, he wasn’t going to rattle her so easily. She’d stay awake and guard the door all night if she had to. She wasn’t going to climb into bed with him voluntarily.
‘I’ll move if I hear them coming. I doubt they’ll be able to approach quietly.’
‘As you wish.’ He sounded half asleep already.
She undressed quickly, scooping up a blanket to drape over the rushes before settling down to unravel her braid, letting the tresses splay out over her shoulders.