He grimaced. If he could just remember to get her name right...
* * *
Aediva stood in the doorway of the Saxon hall, staring up at the darkening sky anxiously. Dusk was falling and there was still no sign of Svend. It seemed increasingly unlikely that he’d be returning that evening and she couldn’t help but worry about him, camping out in the open, vulnerable to rebels and outlaws alike. Despite everything that had happened between them she found it impossible to sleep until she heard the thud of returning hoofbeats.
She’d hardly slept at all for weeks.
‘Lady Aediva?’
Judith appeared at her elbow and she smiled, glad of the company.
‘I don’t need anything tonight, thank you, Judith.’
‘Very good, my lady, but I have something for you.’ The maid held out a strip of red silk. ‘You said that today is your birth date. I found this amongst Lady Cille’s belongings. I thought she’d want you to have something.’
‘It’s beautiful.’ Aediva ran her fingers along the ribbon admiringly.
‘In your best colour too. It’ll go perfectly with the russet gown.’
‘It will. Thank you, Judith.’
‘You should try them on together. The dress might need adjusting.’
‘It won’t. Cille and I are the same size.’
‘I’d like to make sure.’
‘Now?’ Aediva tilted her head, bemused by Judith’s persistence. ‘Can’t it wait?’
Judith lifted her shoulders evasively and then dropped them again. ‘I thought you might like to wear it for Sir Svend.’
Aediva dropped her gaze quickly. ‘I doubt he’ll be back tonight. It’s almost dark.’
‘But just in case...’ Judith smiled secretively. ‘I might have told Renard what day it is...’
‘Judith!’
‘Only in passing. Now, please!’ Judith grasped her hands imploringly. ‘Let me do your hair, at least. I want to see how the ribbon looks. Then, if he comes, you’ll be ready.’
‘Ready for what?’ She tore her hands away in exasperation. ‘A polite meal? So that we can discuss the fact he’s out hunting Saxons?’
‘No, but you have to talk sometime.’
Aediva bit her lip. That was true. And every day they avoided each other only made it worse.
She sighed. ‘Even if he does come, he might not want to see me.’
‘Then why is he always looking at you?’
‘He’s hardly here to look at me!’
‘But when he is he’s always watching you.’ Judith gestured towards the Saxon hall behind them. ‘You shouldn’t have moved back here. These rooms didn’t bring your sister much joy either.’
‘I had to.’ She couldn’t have stayed another night in his chamber—not after their last disastrous night together.
And she couldn’t stay in Redbourn either. As much as she was starting to enjoy her new role, she’d come to realise that her remaining there was impossible. It was bad enough that she’d married her enemy, but now she knew how much she cared for him. She’d wanted to build a new life with him but he didn’t want her—not like that. He desired her, but he didn’t love or trust her. If he’d ever cared for her it had been when he’d thought she was Cille—before he’d found out she’d been lying, and before she’d reminded him of Maren.
What had he told her in Offley? ‘The woman I loved wasn’t real. I thought I could trust her, but she was only pretending to be someone she wasn’t.’