‘Are you sure it was her?’ Stefan asked, as he handed her a tankard of ale.
They had dropped Ellan off with Sister Margaret, Stefan telling her that was the evening routine until he was finished at the King’s feast each night. This time, Ædwen hadn’t dared argue. She would go along with it if Ellan was happy. She had learned her lesson about breaking the routine. And she trusted Sister Margaret, wholeheartedly. She was still apprehensive as Stefan led her away, but she knew it was just nerves. Normal feelings for when a mother left her child. Nothing sinister was going to happen.
‘No.’ She took the cup, her hands trembling.
It had certainly looked like her mother. For a moment, the flash of blonde hair and side profile of her face had stirred something within her. But it was impossible, wasn’t it? But then she had thought she might find her daughter here—was it so far-fetched to imagine her mother might live here in the city, too? But what were the chances?
So much had happened these past few days. Her world had been turned upside down. The ruined wedding seemed like an age away and thank goodness it hadn’t come to pass. She couldn’t believe she had almost gone through with it. Her life would have been over.
Instead, she had come on a journey here with Stefan, imprisoned in his arms. She thought back to that skirmish at the alehouse...and that kiss. She’d met the King, become friends with the Queen and was overjoyed to have been reunited with her child again.
She was afraid to admit to herself that she liked being here. She liked Wintancaester. She liked the people. And she liked being with Stefan. More than she should. She was enjoying spending time with him again. Out there at the market, it had been almost as if they were a real family. But she mustn’t do that. She mustn’t forget he had brought her here because of Ellan. Because he’d felt he had to.
And now, she thought she’d seen her mother again. It had rocked her.
Images of the final night she’d seen her crept into her head. Her mother had tucked her into bed, kissing her goodnight on her forehead. It was the last time she’d gone to sleep content, feeling safe, until she’d met Stefan. When she’d woken, her father had announced over their morning meal that her mother had gone. That he didn’t know where she was, but she wouldn’t be coming back, so the quicker she got used to it, the better. He had been so cold, so matter of fact, uncaring that her heart had been breaking.
She didn’t want to believe what he was telling her and she felt he was most certainly to blame. It was one of the only times Ædwen had dared to raise her voice at him, shouting that she didn’t believe him before pushing away her food and bolting from the room. She had locked herself away for days, wallowing in her misery, unable to comprehend that her mother had abandoned her. Why hadn’t she taken her with her?
Seeing that woman in the market, who looked so much like her mother, had reminded her of those traumatic days and, teamed with learning from the Queen about the ease with which hers and Stefan’s marriage could be dissolved, it heightened Ædwen’s fears. Because he could leave her, too. Again. So easily...
‘Would you like me to ask around, to find out if anyone is aware of her living here?’ Stefan asked, his hands on his hips, peering down at her.
She shook her head. ‘No. I’m guessing even if she is here, she doesn’t want to be found. That she wouldn’t want to see me.’
And it hurt.
‘That’s how I felt about you,’ she blurted, unable to help herself, her emotions getting the better of her. ‘I thought that you should know about the baby, but I didn’t think you’d want me to find you, after you left.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But I never stopped thinking of my mother. And I never stopped thinking of you, Stefan.’
He stared down at her, perhaps shocked by her sudden announcement. His mouth pressed together in a hard line. ‘I imagine it was difficult not to with my child growing inside you,’ he said.
They still hadn’t spoken of what had happened that day. They hadn’t properly discussed what hurt it had caused them both and she thought it was time they did.
‘Stefan, there’s things we haven’t spoken about...about what happened back in Eastbury.’
He visibly tensed beside her and drew a hand over his beard. ‘Ædwen, I don’t want to discuss it,’ he warned. ‘It should stay in the past, where it belongs. I don’t see the point in bringing up old wounds.’
‘But we must!’ she said, her hands outspread. ‘If we never talk about them, how can they ever heal? There are things I want to explain,’ she said. ‘Things I want you to know.’
‘Another day maybe,’ he said and picked up her fingers, studying them. ‘You’ve stopped biting your nails. They’ve grown in the past two days,’ he observed.
She knew he was changing the subject, trying to distract her. Then, to her surprise, he plucked a little silver band from his tunic and pushed it down on to her finger. Her wedding ring finger.
‘I got it at the market, while you were browsing the silk and wools. I thought that we should make it official,’ Stefan said. ‘It looks strange, us continuing to tell people you’re my wife when you’re not wearing a ring.’
Her breath hitched and she twirled the trinket on her finger, studying it warily. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘And you’re right—we really ought to keep up appearances. We must make it look like a genuine marriage,’ she said cynically.
His eyes narrowed on her. ‘That is what it is,’ he said.
She wished it was, she realised now. He was her first love. Her only love. The father of her child. This was what she had always wanted—yet she had heard the resigned tone of his voice again. As if he thought that this was just the right thing to do. She felt her heart crumble...because she wanted him to say they must marry because he couldn’t live without her. That he loved her. That he always had.
The ring only made her want to talk about the past even more.
‘Stefan,’ she pressed, ‘I know what it is like to lose a parent. I miss my mother desperately. I know the grief you must feel at having lost your father, your brothers...and I’m so sorry.’
His whole body seemed to clench and his hands bunched into fists at his sides.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my father being the one who—’
He pulled away from her, almost violently. ‘I told you, I don’t want to discuss it. I do not want to talk about your father, Ædwen. And I do not want to talk about that day.’
‘But we have to,’ she said, standing to meet him. ‘You know we do. Because until we talk about it, you’re always going to hold it against me. You’re never going to trust me. You won’t ever forgive me, like you couldn’t forgive Dania.’
Instantly, she knew she’d said the wrong thing.
His features froze, his eyes blazed.
Yet she couldn’t seem to stop. ‘But don’t you see it is hard for me to trust you also?’
He stepped towards her, glowering at her. He was so close. ‘What?’
‘I want to. I want to believe you won’t leave me again. Abandon me. Like you did before, like my mother, when I needed you most.’
‘That’s what you think I did?’
‘Yes. You didn’t even hear me out. You just left.’
‘And do you think that it was easy for me? Leaving you and coming here?’ he said, his voice vibrating with rage.
‘I don’t know, you tell me.’
‘It wasn’t. Trauma extends far beyond the brutality of battle, Ædwen. Do you not think I didn’t wonder, every day, why I had survived and my family hadn’t? Did you not think I felt the emptiness of their loss in every single breath I took?’
She had never seen him so angry. He was furious, but then so was she.
‘And then I lost you, too. I discovered you’d deceived me—’
‘You judged me so quickly. You didn’t give me a chance to explain. I think you owe me that, Stefan.’
His blistering blue gaze stared down at her, his features hard. ‘Do I?’ he said, his hands on his hips. ‘Why? We both know what happened...why talk about it further, go over it again? It’s not going to change anything. It’s not going to change the fact you lied to me.’
But he was wrong. It might change everything. Why was he being so stubborn? He wouldn’t hear her out back then and he was refusing to do so now, too. Suddenly, she felt incensed with him and this whole situation.
‘Did you know the King was married before?’ she said, her eyes burning up at him.
His brow furrowed, as if unsure of her change in conversation. ‘Of course.’
‘I think the Queen is worried Ælfgifu, his first wife, will come back and try to claim her throne.’
‘I’m sure Canute won’t allow that,’ he said.
‘I’m just trying to get my head round it, though,’ she said, her eyes flaring. ‘If it’s acceptable for Canute to put aside his first wife, as they had a pagan handfasting ceremony...’
Realisation dawned; she saw it in his eyes.
‘Well, I was just thinking, if that is the case, our marriage must also have no binding power, no validity, either... This ring won’t change that. And you know it,’ she said, pointing a finger into his chest, jabbing him with it. ‘You knew ours wasn’t a legitimate marriage, didn’t you? And so did my father. He was right. Yet you stormed into the church the other day with your soldiers, declaring it real, saying you were there by order of the King, giving my father no choice but to let you take me.’
A muscle flickered in his jaw and he stepped towards her.
‘I’m getting tired of this. Why are you still arguing whether we are husband and wife or not? As far I see it, we’ve said our vows and, whether it was under the eyes of my gods or yours, we meant them at the time.’
At the time.
She tilted her chin up towards him. ‘You might see it that way. But no one else will ever see it as a real marriage, will they?’ she said.
‘So would you rather I hadn’t turned up? Would you rather I’d let you go ahead with your proper Christian wedding to Lord Werian, let him take you to his bed and for you to never find out I had Ellan?’
‘No!’
‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘It’s not as if you wanted to marry Lord Werian. So what is the problem?’
‘The problem is you lied to me. You brought me here anyway, despite our union not being seen as valid. To live in sin.’
‘Is that so bad?’ He smirked darkly. ‘You seemed to enjoy it this morning.’
But she was having none of it. She placed her hands on her hips. ‘If Ælfgifu can be cast aside when a better offer came along for Canute, what’s stopping you from doing the same? What’s stopping me from doing that to you?’ she said.
Any trace of a smile wiped off his face. ‘So that’s what you want, is it? Where this is heading. For our marriage not to be valid, so you can escape me, leave me and take Ellan with you?’
‘I’m sure you’d be relieved to be released from your duty.’
She turned her back on him and went to walk away.
But his rage was palpable.
He reached out and gripped her wrist, swinging her back round, and hauled her to him, bringing her right up against him.
‘What if I told you I don’t want you to leave? That I don’t want to be released from my duty? Because I want you, need you, desperately. And despite everything you’re saying, I know you want me, too.’
She pushed at his chest, fighting him, trying to turn away from him, still angry, but he tugged her back into his body, his arms capturing her waist, tightly, so she couldn’t escape, and he crushed her mouth with his. The moment his lips met hers, all reasonable thought fled, and nothing else mattered any more. She relented, succumbing to his touch. Her whole body softened, sagging against him, her tongue meeting his in his mouth, greedily exploring him, deeply. All she could think was that she wanted this. His mouth on hers. His hands on her body. He was right, she wanted him.
When he pulled away, they were both gasping for breath.
‘Admit it. I need to hear you say it,’ he whispered. ‘Or I’ll walk away, leave you in peace, right now.’
She knew she couldn’t deny it any longer and she relented. ‘Yes, I want you,’ she admitted, a torrent of longing tearing through her blood. ‘There, are you happy now?’
He smiled slowly. ‘Now was that so hard?’
But to her despair, he took a step back. She had told him she’d wanted him to get closer, not further away.
He ran his hand down her arm, taking her hand in his, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he tugged her with him towards the door. ‘Come with me. I want to show you something,’ he said.
‘Now?’ she asked.
He grinned. ‘Yes.’
He gripped her fingers tightly and pulled her down the corridor, and she wondered where he was taking her. She told herself not to be disappointed that he hadn’t continued kissing her. That he hadn’t picked her up and carried her upstairs to his bed. That this was for the best.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘You’ll see.’
He led her down some winding steps, to rooms underneath the far side of the palace. The grey stone floors soon turned into colourful mosaics and marble statues of past kings decorated the corridor. Then the corridor opened out on to a huge green pool of steaming water. There was a beautiful domed roof, and she gasped at the incredible sight.
‘A gift from the Romans,’ Stefan said. ‘Another perk of living in the palace. These are the King and Queen’s private baths. The water is heated by natural springs.’
‘It’s incredible,’ she said. The steaming water looked so inviting, a brilliant glimmering green.
‘I thought you might want to bathe before the feast tonight.’
At home in Eastbury, she was used to bathing in the sea, or the river. Very rarely, on special occasions when she was little, her mother would organise for her to have a bath in a barrel filled with steaming water. This was something else.
‘But are we allowed?’ she asked, looking around at the grand arches and colonnades that led off into other areas.
‘Yes, I asked for permission.’
‘The King really likes you, doesn’t he?’
‘I’m a likeable man,’ he said, winking. ‘You can have the place to yourself for a while,’ he said, releasing her hand. ‘You deserve this, Ædwen. Take some time to relax.’
But she gripped his fingers tight. ‘No. Don’t leave. Stay,’ she said, looking up at him.
‘Ædwen...’
‘Don’t leave me down here on my own,’ she said. ‘Please.’
He nodded, relenting, and then he gave her the courtesy of turning round. ‘Get undressed. Let me know when you’re in, beneath the water,’ he said. ‘That first step down feels amazing.’
She fumbled with the brooches of her pinafore, her fingers trembling. She wasn’t sure why. Was it because she was taking her clothes off when he was so close by? Then she quickly dropped the garment to the floor, while pulling off the tunic beneath. She lay it down on a stone bench, being especially careful as it was Kendra’s, not her own.
Stefan still had his back to her as she stepped down into the pool and sank beneath the water. It felt glorious, just as he’d said, and so good to wash away the dirt and grime from the past few days. She dipped her head beneath the water and rose up, feeling amazing.
She waded over to the side of the pool and put her arms on the side, looking up at him. ‘Aren’t you coming in?’
He turned around and looked down at her, stroking the back of his neck. ‘Do you want me to?’
‘You can stay over that side, can’t you?’ she said, raising her eyebrow.
His eyes narrowed on her. ‘If I take my clothes off and get in there with you, that won’t happen.’
She swallowed.
He put his hand to the base of his tunic and hauled it off, keeping his heated gaze on her. He discarded the tunic on the floor. She felt like this was another test and she was going to fail.
And then he put his hand to the waistband of his breeches. ‘Are you going to turn around?’ he asked. ‘Or do you want to watch?’
She gasped, shocked she was still staring up at him, mesmerised, taking in his magnificent body. She turned around immediately.
He chuckled softly, then she heard him wading through the water, him coming up close behind her. Too close.
She swallowed. ‘I thought you were going to stay over there.’
‘That was never going to happen and you knew it,’ he said.
He pressed his body up against her back and she gasped. He brought his hands up round her front, to cup her breasts, and drew her up against him. She tipped her head back as he kneaded her flesh. She could feel him, pressed up against her buttocks, and she was shocked at the sudden intimacy. How easily he’d got her naked in his arms. How fast things were spiralling. And she tried to fight for some kind of restraint.
But she had told him she wanted him. There was no going back from that.
His mouth came down on her shoulder, pressing soft kisses to her neck, her jaw, the tops of her swollen breasts, and every touch of his lips sent a spiral of heat down between her legs. She moaned softly, then turned her head, so he could claim her mouth again. She loved the feel of his firm lips on hers, his tongue inside her mouth, seeking, plundering. The kiss went on and on and she brought up her hands to hold the back of his head, while his hands stole down to hold her hips firmly, his fingers splaying out across her stomach.
When he eventually tore his lips from hers, his voice was hoarse. ‘What was the word you used earlier? Obligation...?’ he asked. His hand stole down and curved over her mound, her damp curls, and her legs parted willingly under the water, allowing him to push his finger deep inside her. She whimpered. ‘Do you think this an obligation, Ædwen? Or purely for pleasure?’ he teased her.
But as if he knew she couldn’t take much of that sweet torture, perhaps worried this would all be over too fast, he began to move her hips, twisting her.
‘Turn around. Let me see you,’ he said, his voice rasped.
Was he struggling, the way she was, to retain control?
Bravely, she turned fully in his arms, the glistening water waist-deep, and she stepped away, letting him look at her. She felt the colour climb in her cheeks, but she forced herself to keep her hands down by her sides. His hungry gaze raked over her. She was suddenly acutely aware that her body had changed. That her breasts were bigger, but softer, not as firm as they once were. And her stomach... Would he be disappointed?
‘You’re even more beautiful than I remember,’ he said. ‘Stunning.’
And she drank him in, too. She stepped towards him. She brushed her fingers over the smooth skin that covered the hard muscles of his chest, trailing over the dark, swirling ink markings she had traced before.
One of them, she remembered, he’d called Laguz—the rune of water, travel and love. She recalled him saying he loved the possibilities the ocean offered, as he’d believed it had brought him to her.
Her eyes fell upon his wound. ‘Is it all right?’ she asked. ‘In the water?’
‘It’s fine. You did a good job.’
As they faced each other, chest to chest, her breathing was rapid, her breasts rising and falling.
‘Come here,’ he said.
She took another step towards him.
‘Closer, Ædwen.’
And when she pressed herself up against him, his arm came around her waist, holding her tight, dragging her right up against his body. She could feel him, right there, his hard, silky shaft against her thigh, the water lapping against them, engulfing them both. He pushed his knee between her legs, binding her to him, and kissed her again, fiercely.
She couldn’t believe she was naked in his arms again. She had allowed him to touch her again so easily. But then, she had never been able to resist him.
He picked her up, walking her back to the steps, and he lay her down on them, so she was half out of the water. He came over her, kissing her, his mouth roaming down to steal over her chest, lathering her wet breasts, licking and kissing and sucking the peaks to glorious, aching life. He made every part of her body come alive and she wanted him to touch her again, where he’d touched her this morning.
His head stole lower, his mouth planting hot kisses over her stomach, and she cringed at the little silvery lines there, from when she was carrying Ellan and her skin was stretched to the limit. She brought her hands up, trying to cover herself up, the water lapping at her thighs, but he gripped her wrists, pressing them down either side of her on the steps. His tongue trailed over her hips, over her little birthmark he’d been fascinated by all those many months ago, then he went lower and her whole body tensed in anticipation.
Surely he wasn’t going to...?
He was!
Her thighs parted spontaneously and his mouth hovered over her wet curls and the intimate places below. She scrambled up on to her elbows, trying to back away from him and the exquisite intimacy, the indecency, but he held her thighs fast.
‘Let’s see if we can make it last a little longer this time,’ he said, his blue gaze staring up at her through the steam rising off the water.
Her pulse leapt wildly and all she could do was surrender. She tipped her head back and let him dip his head and kiss her, explicitly, where she’d never been kissed before. It was a gentle kiss, the lick of his tongue curling around her sensitive flesh, and she cried out in wonder. It was so unexpected.
She never knew that it could feel so good. Was it even allowed? He had never done this to her before. But she knew, now he had, she never wanted him to stop.
His lips opened wider to taste her and her face burned with the tenderness of it, his tongue swirling over and around her, his soft strokes driving her wild. The pleasure was blinding, building, bubbling over. She couldn’t believe the sensations he was creating. She couldn’t believe she was letting him do this. Kiss her. Like this. There.
His hands came beneath her to hold her buttocks, lifting her up to him, pressing her closer, his beard grazing her skin, his tongue becoming more insistent, intensifying the sensations. She gasped at the thrill that rushed through her body and she cried out, the pleasure of her climax suddenly torn from her lips, reverberating around the chamber. He came up and over her, holding her by the waist, until the spasms stopped rocking through her body.
He pulled her body down, deeper, dragging her totally beneath the surface, and he kissed her on the mouth underneath the water. When they came up, breathless, he laughed and it was infectious. She laughed, too, without restraint, pushing the water out of her eyes. He pulled her back into his arms, kissing her nose, her lips...and she knew...she must touch him back. It was only fair.
Her hand stole down between them, to take hold of him, wrapping around him. But he rested his forehead against hers and stalled her fingers.
‘Not here,’ he whispered. ‘I told you when we do this, I want all of you. I won’t settle for less. Tonight...’