The Warrior's Runaway Wife. Denise Lynn

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for very little more than your companionship, he will give you enough coins to compensate for what we’ve provided you.’

      The reckoning Avelyn feared might one day come had arrived. She shouldn’t have let Hannah convince her to stay until the rain ceased, no matter the logic behind the woman’s reasoning.

      Now she was faced with paying off a debt and had no means to do so except by surrendering her grandmother’s ring, or doing as Hannah requested. She couldn’t give up the ring—it was all she had left from her mother.

      Avelyn wanted to cry at her lack of options, but forced the useless tears back. As Hannah had said, no one would ever know. As long as even a slender thread of luck remained on her side, she would soon be gone from here—maybe in the morning, if it stopped raining. She could then rush on to Normandy or France and start a new life where nobody knew who she was, or about this night, or that she’d even stayed in this place.

      Except, no matter where she ran, one person would know—she would know and, somehow, she would have to learn how to live with her shame.

      She nodded her agreement, adding, ‘If he tries anything other than what you have stated, I will gut him.’

      Hannah laughed and patted her arm. ‘Rest assured that will not be necessary.’

      * * *

      From his seat in the far corner of the establishment, Elrik watched and waited for the right moment. Two of his men were situated in different corners of the main room, doing the same as he—listening to the conversations of the others.

      Everyone in town seemed to know that the owner of this ale house rented out the upper rooms to women willing to share their favours...for a price.

      There’d been talk of new lady, a young one with hair the colour of night who had yet to accept a customer. Several of the men present had wagers on who would be the first.

      If his hunch was right, this woman could be the one he sought. The search thus far for Brandr’s daughter hadn’t been easy—it wasn’t as if he could put his nose to the ground like a hound. Instead, snippets of conversations overheard in one place and rumours garnered in another helped to lead him in the right direction. The bits gathered had brought him here.

      He was glad he’d changed his mind about travelling alone. His men had come in handy more than once during this search, as what pieces of gossip he missed, they had overheard.

      Fulke, one of his men, approached and took a seat on the bench behind Elrik. ‘The elderly man who is sitting at the table nearest the fire, where I was, is looking for a black-haired wench for the night. Seems his regular woman isn’t available.’

      Elrik lifted his tankard to his lips, but didn’t drink, instead, he asked softly, ‘Are they going to find him another?’

      ‘The woman in green is heading above to see if one is available.’

      Elrik turned his full attention to the man Fulke spoke of. He was old, bony and from the way his hands shook Elrik wondered how he didn’t spill most of his drink on himself.

      He rose and pretended to shiver, then approached the old man. ‘The fire looks inviting. Mind if I join you?’

      ‘Suit yourself. I won’t be here long.’

      Elrik took a seat and waved the barmaid over. ‘Bring me ale and one for my friend here.’

      The old man squinted at him. ‘Haven’t seen you here afore now.’

      ‘Just passing through.’

      ‘Ah. Decided to enjoy a little soft company for the night?’

      ‘Perhaps.’

      ‘What type of wench you looking for?’

      Elrik shrugged. ‘A lusty red-haired one would be to my liking.’

      ‘Not me.’ The man shook his head and a few of the sparse white hairs on his head flopped down over his face. ‘I want one like my Agnes. A little thing with black hair and breasts that’ll fit in my hand.’

      Elrik swallowed his laugh at the man’s bawdy talk. ‘Is your Agnes at home?’ If so, she probably wouldn’t be happy to know where her husband was this night.

      ‘No.’ A heavy sadness fell over the man, setting his lips to droop and making Elrik feel guilty for having ruined the man’s former good mood. ‘She’s been gone these last two springs now.’

      ‘I am sorry. I meant not to trouble you.’

      ‘No trouble. I come here when missing her gets to be too much to bear.’ He leaned over the table and lowered his voice. ‘At times just having a woman’s arms around me while I sleep helps ease the loss.’

      Elrik patted the man’s hand before picking up his tankard. ‘You cared greatly for her.’

      ‘I loved her, lad. That I did.’

      He wasn’t going to debate the misguided notion of marital love with the man. ‘You should find yourself another wife.’

      To Elrik’s surprise, the old man stomped a foot and slapped his knee as he howled with laughter. Wiping tears from his eyes, he said between gasps for breath, ‘Oh, that’s a good one that is. What would I do with a wife at my age?’

      ‘I suppose the same things you did with Agnes.’

      ‘You are younger than you appear, aren’t you?’ The man reached across the table to throw a half-hearted punch at Elrik’s shoulder. ‘Trust me, boy, twenty or thirty years from now you’ll see things differently.’

      Elrik resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ‘You misunderstood me. I meant things like sharing a meal, or a conversation around the fire and a soft warm body to lie against in bed. Nothing more.’

      ‘I’d not bring another woman to Agnes’s bed. No.’

      The woman in the green over-gown came back down the stairs and approached the table. ‘Edward, give her but a few moments to get ready and then you can go up. It’s the room on the end. Just knock, she’ll be waiting.’

      The man turned to the others gathered and raised his mug. ‘You owe me, boys.’

      Elrik knew the man had just won the wager over who would be the first to visit the new woman’s room. Too bad he wasn’t about to let that happen—at least not until he discovered if this woman was Brandr’s daughter or not.

      Needing to get upstairs without drawing unwanted attention, he asked the woman in green, ‘Any of the ladies free at the moment?’

      She looked him up and down and then smiled. ‘For someone like you, they’ll fight over the honour. Do you have any preferences?’

      The old man answered, ‘He likes them red-haired and lusty.’

      ‘That settles it then. The second door on the right will be the one you want. She’s free right now.’

      Elrik rose and shot a glance towards Fulke, giving him the slightest nod in the direction

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