wanted to kiss her, to reassure her in some way, but he couldn’t. His heart pounded and blood rushed in his ears. She was right. It was why he should turn away right now and leave her behind. ‘Ellan...’
Something shifted in her eyes and she straightened her spine. His fingers dropped to his side. ‘Thank you for your generous offer,’ she said. ‘But I find that I would prefer marriage and the permanent security it would provide.’
It was no less than he had expected, but still the bitter tang of disappointment touched the back of his tongue. He meant to leave it, instead he said, ‘The offer is open if you change your mind.’
Her lips parted, but no words came out. He took advantage of her loss of words to ask what he should have asked before offering her the position of his concubine. Questions he had meant to ask when he found out she had spoken to Godric. The fact that he was willing to have her regardless of that potential threat was testament to how far he had fallen under her spell. The pull she had on him was nearly irresistible and he couldn’t explain it. He didn’t know her, but it felt like he was supposed to know her.
‘You’ve heard the rumours about your father plotting with the Scots?’ At her nod, he continued, ‘Do you know anything about that?’
‘Nay.’ She gave him a bitter smile. ‘Believe me when I say that I would be the last person he told if he was involved with the Scots.’
If what she said about her relationship with her father was true, then he could believe that. Still, he pressed onwards, looking for some point of weakness in her assertion. ‘But do you suspect that he would?’
The conflict she suffered was plain on her face. ‘I’m not certain. I suspect that he’d go to any length to fight you. He despised the Danes before...but his hatred deepened when my mother ran off with one.’
‘Ah.’ It was a piece of the puzzle he’d yet to place about Godric’s supposed rebellion. ‘I suspected his hatred ran deeper than that of a warrior fighting for his home. When did she leave?’
‘I was a child still.’
The shadowed look that came over her face told him there was much more to the story, but he wouldn’t press. The less her knew about her personally, the better it would be for both of them. He had begun to suspect that being near her would affect him far greater than he had originally intended.
‘A man from your village, Osric, was found meeting with the Scots a few days ago. Many see this as evidence that your father is involved, too. What do you think?’ He stared at her face, looking for any signs of lying.
‘Osric wouldn’t have approached the Scots on his own, but what you’re saying is...well, it would mean Father is guilty of treason. Do you think Father would do that?’ The distress on her face looked very real.
‘I don’t know Godric well enough to say with certainty.’ But he would have bet everything he owned on the fact that the man was involved with them. He was less certain about the man’s daughters, however. ‘He’ll be questioned about his involvement very soon and then we’ll know the truth.’
She seemed unsettled, but there was nothing about her expression that suggested complicity. Perhaps Rolfe was right about the sisters after all.
‘I should get inside.’
He nodded and stepped to the side. ‘Goodnight, Ellan.’ She murmured a reply and hurried away towards the hall. He didn’t say it, but if Godric was found guilty, then Rolfe or even Jarl Vidar would become her new guardian. There was every chance that her betrothal would be cancelled. If she spent the winter in Alvey, Aevir knew that he would have her in his bed before the spring thaw.
Before he had to leave to marry his own Saxon.
* * *
Ellan hurried to the alcove bedchamber she had shared with Elswyth until her sister’s marriage only days ago. It was a tiny space that held a narrow bed, a small table and a stool. Once, Ellan had thought it tiny and cramped, but it had seemed vast and lonely ever since Elswyth had moved to Rolfe’s chamber. She hadn’t realised how she would miss her sister’s calm and reassuring presence until she was no longer there every night. How Ellan wished that Elswyth was there now. She would crawl into bed and pull the blanket over them both as she told her what Father had said. Perhaps she would even share with her Aevir’s shocking proposal.
A curtain separated the alcove from the rest of the upstairs area. Ellan went to tie it closed behind her and let her gaze linger on the shut door of her sister’s room. The need to talk to her was nearly overwhelming, but Ellan managed to control it. Elswyth was married now. Not only that, but she had had her own confrontation with Father tonight about her marriage. She needed time alone with Rolfe.
A feeling of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach since Elswyth’s wedding. At first, Ellan had been ashamed of herself for being anything but happy for her sister. Now, as the hollow grew bigger, she understood what the feeling was. It was fear that she was losing the one person she had always been able to trust.
The one person who loved her.
Blinking against the sting of tears, she tied the curtain closed and went through the motions of changing into her nightdress and taking down her hair before plopping down on the bed and curling up under her blanket. Times like this made her miss her mother. Sometimes when she closed her eyes, lay very still and tried very hard, she could almost remember the weight of her mother’s hand on her head, stroking her hair as she fell asleep. Ellan was never quite certain if it was an actual memory or something she had made up to comfort herself as a child.
What would her mother tell her to do? Unfortunately, she hadn’t known her well enough to say. What would Elswyth say? She had a sinking feeling that her sister would advise her to marry the man Father wanted her to marry. Ellan couldn’t shake the feeling that this man would be hardly better than Father in his opinions of the Danes. In her time serving Lady Gwendolyn, Ellan had grown close to her. She couldn’t imagine submitting to a marriage that would see her on the other side of a potential Saxon/Dane battle in Alvey. Father was wrong in his hatred.
Was Aevir right in that Father could be taken prisoner soon? Would that mean the betrothal wasn’t valid? Should she take Aevir up on his offer in case it was?
Heat swept through her at that thought. Deep down inside herself in a place she hardly knew existed, she hadn’t found Aevir’s proposition to be abhorrent. She wanted marriage and a family of her own...but she also wanted to know what it would be like to lie with him. To be protected by him. To belong to him.
Pulling the blanket up to hide her face from her wicked thoughts, she tried to drive the memory of his intense stare from her head. It didn’t work. Being alone made him much more vivid in her mind. The way he had towered over her outside the hall after Elswyth’s wedding, for instance. Had he been someone else she might have felt intimidated or even afraid, but because it was him she had felt protected, even cared for, though that sentiment was absurd. He wanted her in his bed, not his heart. She wasn’t a complete dolt when it came to men.
Why then did she feel this inexplicable draw to him and the promise of more lurking beneath the surface?
That thought, along with those of her uncertain future, left her unable to find a peaceful sleep. When she finally drifted off it was to unsettling dreams of both her father and Aevir.
* * *
It
