Svend forced his eyelids open. They felt leaden and heavy, as if they were trying to drag him back down into sleep, back to troubled dreams of noise and chaos. It was dark, though the flickering light of a candle told him he was back in his bed in the tower.
He flexed his sword arm, then winced as pain shot down his side, black dots dancing in front of his eyes like coal dust. A series of disjointed memories came back to him. The bailey wall collapsing...the scaffolding buckling under the weight of stone...a shower of dust and rock.
What had happened next? What was he doing here?
He waited for the dizziness to subside, then tested his other muscles more carefully. He felt battered and sore all over, though he seemed to have avoided serious injury. Only his chest felt heavy—as if there were a horse sitting on top of it.
He heard somebody else’s breathing and turned his head carefully, his heart lurching as he saw Aediva curled up in a chair by the bedside. Instinctively he tried to sit up, and then fell back with a grunt of pain, his shoulder collapsing beneath him.
‘Svend?’
He heard her whisper his name but couldn’t answer, his senses still reeling. Then he felt fingers, soft and tender, moving in circles over his chest, loosening the tight muscles. From the smell he guessed she was rubbing in some kind of ointment. It felt warm and sticky, not unpleasant despite a slight stinging sensation. He fought back a growl, inhaling sharply as her fingers brushed across his injured shoulder.
‘Can you hear me?’ She stopped at once.
He could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin, could tell that she was leaning over him. Her hair was trailing across his chest like a silken blanket, filling his senses almost to breaking point. She was close now—so close that if he reached out she’d have no chance of escape.
He moaned, luring her face down to his.
‘Svend?’
Quickly he coiled his good arm around her neck, bringing her mouth down to his, and was caught off guard by the depth and fervour of her response. Her lips surrendered immediately, her mouth soft and sweet and irresistibly delicious, deepening the kiss with every passing moment. If they went on like this...
She pulled back abruptly, squealing in protest. ‘Brute! You tricked me! How long have you been awake?’
‘Not long.’
He tried another groan and she started forward again in alarm.
‘Have I hurt you?’
‘Not yet. Care to try?’
‘Stop teasing me!’ She stamped her foot angrily. ‘It’s not fair.’
He grinned. ‘You are too good to resist.’
She glared at him, perching on the side of the bed just out of arm’s reach. ‘And how do you feel?’
‘Like a wall has fallen on me.’
‘Renard says they were rushing to finish and the mortar wasn’t dry.’
‘Is everyone all right?’
‘One of the masons broke a leg, but everyone else escaped. You must have been the slowest.’
He caught the mischievous glint in her eye. ‘Getting old, perhaps?’
‘Probably. It’s amazing that you didn’t break any bones. Wait!’ She sprang forward as he started to sit up. ‘What are you doing?’
‘The old man wants to get up.’
‘You need to lie still.’
‘I’m not staying in bed like an invalid.’
‘Yes, you are.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘And you needn’t look at me like that. I’m not afraid of you, Svend du Danemark.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Not at all?’
‘I’ve held a knife to your chest before. Don’t think I won’t do it again.’
He laughed painfully. ‘I believe you.’
‘I haven’t finished yet, anyway.’ She reached for the ointment again. ‘Now, lie down and be still.’
He fell backwards, heaving a sigh. ‘So this is marriage? Very well, then, wife. Do your worst.’
She gave him an arch look, trailing her hands along the sides of his ribcage.
‘Will I live?’
‘You’ll survive.’
‘Somehow I can’t tell if you think that’s a good thing.’
‘It’s bearable.’
He smiled. ‘Surely you can’t deny me a small walk around the chamber?’
‘No! Look what happened the last time I let you out of bed.’
‘In that case you’d better join me. I won’t make the same mistake twice.’
He heard her breathing quicken, before she shook her head emphatically. ‘It’s definitely too soon for that.’
‘Aediva...’ He gave a low growl. Despite the pain, he could feel himself getting aroused. ‘Either let me out of this bed or get in.’
She hesitated for another moment before climbing up and nestling down by his side.
‘You scared me. Don’t do it again.’
He twisted towards her, surprised by the quiver in her voice. Up close, he could see that her eyes and cheeks were swollen, as if she’d been crying.
‘I promise never to be crushed by a wall again.’
‘Stop making light of it! You could have been killed!’
‘It’ll take more than that.’ He reached out, stroking the side of her face with his fingertips. ‘I’m not so easy to get rid of.’
‘So I’m learning.’
‘I’m sorry you were scared. So was I, if it helps. One night with you is nowhere near enough. The thought of not having another was terrifying.’ He pressed his lips into her hair. ‘Speaking of which...that position I showed you would be perfect for a situation like this.’
She batted a hand at him. ‘I’m not being held responsible for you relapsing.’
‘I’ll take my chances.’
‘You need to rest.’
‘I can’t think of a better way to help me sleep.’
‘Svend!’
He laughed at her ferocious expression. ‘All right. But soon...’
‘Soon,’ she agreed. ‘Very soon.’
* * *
Aediva looked up from the bed, pressing a finger to her lips and smiling as Bertrand bent his head under the doorframe. A month ago she would have felt uncomfortable in the presence of such an alarmingly large, archetypal Norman, but now she was genuinely pleased to see him.
‘Lady Aediva...’
He looked embarrassed to find her on the bed and she took pity on him, wriggling away from her sleeping husband and onto her feet. It wasn’t her fault that Svend insisted on her lying beside him all the time. His men probably thought she was some kind of wanton.
‘What is it?’ She smiled encouragingly.
Bertrand lowered his voice. ‘I have some questions about tomorrow, my lady, but I’ll come back later.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘We’re taking the prisoners to the Earl for sentencing.’ He saw the look on her face and cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘I’m sorry, my lady, I thought you knew.’
‘No.’ She tried to keep her voice from shaking. ‘I didn’t.’
‘Those are the Earl’s orders.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’ll come back later.’
He backed out of the room hastily and she sank down onto the bed, stricken with guilt. She’d been so preoccupied with Svend over the last two days that she’d hardly thought about the prisoners at all. She hadn’t even considered what was going to happen to them. Her whole world seemed to have contracted to this one room.
She gazed down at him lovingly, dipping her fingers into the soothing ointment the wicce had given her, then rubbing them gently over his bare skin. His chest moved up and down beneath her touch, warm and smooth and sprinkled with a fine layer of soft white-gold hair. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her mind on the task. Even covered in red and purple bruises, his body still had a powerful effect on her senses. The thrill of running her hands over his hard, taut muscles was as strong and distracting as ever.
Should she tell him about Edmund? She’d intended to, but that had been before the accident. She didn’t want anything to disrupt his recovery, but she couldn’t bear to think of Edmund being dragged in chains before the Earl either. No matter what he’d done to her, she didn’t want that.
‘You should get some air.’ Svend’s voice was sleepy. ‘You don’t have to tend to me all day.’
‘I’m not leaving you.’ She smiled, amazed at the power his blue eyes held over her. Just one look from them made her insides feel weak. ‘Not until I can trust you to stay put.’
‘And I hoped it was because you might care...’
‘That too.’ She took hold of his hand and squeezed it, feeling a rush of tenderness.
When they’d carried him in on a stretcher she’d felt as though it was her own body that had been crushed. She’d spent a night of anguish waiting for him to wake up, and spent every day since falling more deeply in love with him than ever.
On the other hand, he was the worst patient she’d ever known—trying to get out of bed twenty times a day and wanting to know everything that was happening in the castle. To quell his impatience she’d arranged for Renard to bring almost hourly reports, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep him in bed. There was only one sure method she could think of, and that was the one thing she had to avoid—no matter how tempted she was to succumb. Injured or not, nothing seemed to dampen his ardour.
She forced her mind back to the present. ‘Bertrand was here. He wanted to ask about tomorrow.’
‘He told you about that?’
‘Only by accident. He said the prisoners are going to be taken for sentencing.’
‘Those are the Earl’s orders.’
‘That’s what he said.’ She took a deep breath, steeling her nerve for her next question. ‘What’s going to happen to them?’
‘If they surrender and swear fealty there’s a chance they might be pardoned, but FitzOsbern’s losing patience with them. In all honesty, I don’t know.’
‘Isn’t there another way? Couldn’t you just...send them away? Let them go?’
‘No.’ His voice hardened. ‘I can’t let the Earl think I have any sympathy with them.’
‘Do you? Have sympathy with them, I mean?’
‘They’re fighting for their home—I can understand that—but they knew what they were doing when they joined the rebellion. They chose their side.’ He sighed. ‘I have to follow my orders, Aediva.’
‘Because FitzOsbern will blame me if you fail?’
He looked surprised and she shrugged.
‘He told me so at our wedding feast.’
Svend’s jaw tightened revealingly. ‘I won’t take any risks—not where you’re concerned.’
‘What would he do? Annul our marriage?’
He didn’t answer and she tilted her head, peering at him quizzically. ‘Svend?’
‘That would be the best we could hope for.’
‘Oh.’ She held back a shudder. That was that, then. She had her answer. There was no point in asking Svend to release Edmund. But she still had to admit that she’d seen him. Somehow it felt disloyal not to.
‘I saw the prisoners on the morning of your accident. One of them...it was Edmund.’
‘Edmund?’ His whole body seemed to tense. ‘Did he see you?’
‘Yes.’
‘And...?’
‘He looked angry.’ She felt her cheeks flush. ‘I was only wearing a blanket at the time.’
‘So that’s why you’re asking me all this? Because you want me to let him go?’
‘Yes—but not because I care for him.’ She hastened to explain. ‘I never did. I was always more scared of him than anything.’
‘Scared?’ He frowned. ‘Why?’
She hesitated. She didn’t want to talk about this—didn’t want to remember it—but she had a feeling that Svend wasn’t simply going to drop the subject.
‘He was...rough. When he kissed me it hurt. And...he tried to make me do other things.’
‘And you want me to let him go?’ Svend’s face was a mask of restrained fury.
‘Yes.’ She put a hand on his chest quickly. ‘I know it sounds strange. Part of me hates him, but I don’t want revenge—not like this. He was part of my life once, and he’s Saxon. It doesn’t seem right for me to be so happy when he’s lost everything.’
‘So happy?’ Some of the anger ebbed from his face. ‘Is that what you are?’
‘Very happy. I thought that all men were like Edmund until I met you. I thought I never wanted anyone to kiss me again. But now...’ She pressed her lips against his. ‘Now I can’t seem to kiss you enough.’
‘Temptress. You should have told me all this before.’
‘It’s not easy to talk about.’
‘No, but if I’d known...’
She smiled at his anxious expression. ‘You’re nothing like Edmund, Svend. I’ve always wanted you to kiss me.’
‘Always?’
‘Most of the time anyway.’
‘I wish I’d known that sooner too.’
He seemed to consider for a moment before shaking his head.
‘No, I can’t let him go. Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—I can’t make exceptions. I trust my men to keep their own counsel, but de Quincey’s men are another matter. If word ever got back to the Earl... I won’t expose you to that kind of danger.’
‘Can I speak to Edmund, at least?’
‘That’s not a good idea.’
‘But I could tell him what you said—that he should surrender. I could tell the others too.’
‘No.’
‘Svend, they’re my countrymen. I’ll be perfectly safe with Bertrand.’
‘No!’ His eyes flashed a warning. ‘Prisoners are desperate men and that makes them dangerous. Don’t argue with me on this, Aediva. I won’t change my mind. The further you stay away from the rebels, the better.’