Ædwen looked down at her daughter and forced her fears about staying here with Stefan out of her mind. She would think about that later. Right now, she wanted to enjoy being with her child again.
She carried her precious bundle up the stairs and settled her down on the bed. She lay beside her, studying her tiny features, her rosebud mouth and cherub cheeks, and her perfect little fingers. She couldn’t believe she was here, that they were back together, and her joy was immense.
To think Ellan had been safe with her father, all this time. There was nowhere she would rather Ellan had been. She could tell Stefan had taken good care of her—her skin was glowing and she had grown. She was heavier than she remembered and was sleeping contentedly.
Stefan had surrounded himself with good people, she thought. Despite what had happened out in the lanes earlier today, she had liked everyone she’d met here in Wintancaester so far. The King and Queen were people to look up to, to aspire to. She liked Maccus and Kendra and she would make sure she made amends to them for her earlier behaviour. And the fact Sister Margaret was here, too...that was perfect. She would have to search her out, first thing on the morrow, and thank her. She wanted to hear everything. All that the sister could tell her.
But could she and Ellan stay here?
She wondered if her own mother had once cuddled up to her and looked at her in wonderment like this. Had she felt pure elation at having such a perfect thing in her life? No, she must never have loved her, for how could she and do what she did?
She had felt the loss of her mother even more acutely when she’d had Ellan as she had known she could never leave her child, not like that woman had left her. And she had wondered, often, what she had done to contribute to her mother’s rejection of her.
She knew her parents had suffered an unhappy marriage, for Ædwen had felt the effects of it every day as she’d grown up, longing to escape their constant battles. She had carried the burden of it and she didn’t want Ellan to witness that same hostility between her and Stefan.
Did Stefan just want a wife to make their family legitimate? He had spoken as if she and Ellan were a duty. As if it was something he would have to endure. But she didn’t want him to be with her because he felt he had to be—to make amends for planting a seed in her body, getting her with child. She had heard the resignation in his voice, the reluctance about their future, and it had felt as though someone was reaching into her chest and squeezing her heart. He had looked as if he was accepting their marriage as punishment and she knew he would end up hating her. Begrudging her. They would fight all the time and she couldn’t bring Ellan up in such a marriage. One like her parents’.
No, it was far better to leave now than for her and Ellan to face his almost certain desertion of them later on.
Yes, he’d told her he wanted her back in his bed, to make her his again. There was no way she could live with him in his lodgings like this and be able to ignore this burning attraction they felt for each other. But to think a marriage could work because they found pleasure in each other’s bodies would be a mistake. Because what would happen when that desire had been sated? Would there be anything left? No, a marriage had to be based on love. Acceptance. Trust. And she wasn’t sure they had any of those things.
He did not love her and she felt sure he would soon grow tired of them. He would leave when things got tough. And she couldn’t let him do that to her again.
She felt flawed in some way, as if she was unworthy of love. Her mother had left, her father had never cared for her—she couldn’t believe he had sent his own grandchild away, not even caring where she had been placed—and Stefan had abandoned her all too easily, unwilling to hear her out, rejecting her for her deceit. Yet his betrayal had been far worse than hers had ever been. If he hadn’t have left her, none of this heartache would ever have come to pass. He had broken his promise. He had let her down. She must never forget it.
She could not risk a future with him. If they kept their union going simply for the sake of their child, she knew it would be a mistake. They would make Ellan, and themselves, miserable. Choosing to be alone was better than chancing rejection and the even greater hurt it would cause. She could not risk her heart again. She didn’t think it would survive a second time.
Ædwen knew she would have to talk to him and make him see reason.
She was so tired, she tried to sleep. But every time her eyes drifted closed she snapped them back open, worried Ellan wouldn’t be there when she woke up.
And where was Stefan? He had gone back to the hall a while ago, saying he would give her and Ellan time alone, but the dark hours were dragging by and she was starting to feel frustrated. Surely he should be back by now? Was he not exhausted? Who was he enjoying the company of? And why did she care?
She had seen the way the women in the hall had looked at him earlier, their eyes raking over his handsome face, his muscular body, and ridiculously, she’d wanted to place her hand on his arm, staking a claim on him. The fierce possessiveness that had risen up inside her shocked her.
Was he with another woman now? No, she could not bear to think about it. She flipped over on to her back, frustrated, and stared up at the roof. But he was the father of her child. She was lying in his bed. Didn’t she have a right to feel a little bit proprietary?
Finally, after what felt like an age, Ædwen heard the sound of familiar footsteps coming down the corridor, the heavy door being pushed open. There was a moment and then Stefan came charging up the stairs. She raised her head off the bed, startled, and their eyes met across the candlelit room.
His hand came across his chest in a gesture of utter relief. ‘I thought... I thought you might have gone,’ he said, his dark gaze holding hers.
‘In the middle of the night? And not said goodbye? No.’ She frowned, propping herself up on her elbows. ‘I learned my lesson earlier today.’
He nodded, sighing, gripping the wooden handrail, trying to regain his composure. ‘Good.’ He raked a hand through his hair, glancing over at Ellan.
He didn’t trust her, she realised.
He had been hateful back in Eastbury, the day he had left her. He had been quick to doubt her, condemning her, saying unforgivable things, and she wondered what had happened in his life to make him assume the worst in people. She knew what had happened when he’d arrived on these shores had been atrocious, but she had a feeling there was something more. Something that had happened even before that. Something he hadn’t told her.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,’ he said, retreating.
‘You didn’t. I couldn’t sleep.’ And then before she could stop herself. ‘Where have you been? Who...?’
His brow furrowed. ‘With the King.’
‘Just the King?’ She hated herself for asking, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She’d been lying here in the darkness, her jealousy simmering, her imagination spiralling, getting the better of her.
He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘What do you care?’
She shrugged her shoulder. ‘I don’t. You’re a free man.’ She shrugged.
His eyes narrowed on her. ‘But I’m not. Am I?’
Her stomach flipped, but she ignored his question. She certainly didn’t believe he had stayed true to their marriage vows all this while they’d been apart.
‘What’s the matter, Ædwen?’ he whispered, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Ellan.
She sat up fully in the bed. His bed. His scent on the furs surrounded her. ‘I don’t know. It’s just it’s my first night here, in a strange place, and you left me here all alone.’
‘I thought that’s what you wanted...’ Then his mouth curled upwards into that wicked grin. He put his hand up on the wall and leaned in. ‘Don’t tell me you missed me?’
‘No!’ But she wasn’t prepared to stay here if he was going to spend every night out in the company of other people. Other women. But why was she even thinking like this? After all, she’d already decided she was leaving...hadn’t she?
‘Get up. Come downstairs.’
‘I’m tired,’ she protested.
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘You don’t look all that sleepy to me. Come on. We need to talk.’
She sighed heavily. She checked Ellan once more and then swung herself off the bed.
He made his way down the stairs and she tentatively followed him, back into the living space.
The candle on the table was still burning and he looked so male and virile, so formidable, his dark frame moving around in the soft light, as he poured them both a drink. She stood frozen, watching him from the bottom of the steps, rubbing her hands over her arms. Once again, she wondered how he thought the two of them could live together like this. Just being so close to him, cooped up in here, did things to her body. It made her yearn for things she knew she shouldn’t want from him.
‘Here,’ he said, handing her a cup.
‘Thank you,’ she said, taking it from him and raising it to her mouth, wetting her lips.
Once, this had been all she’d wanted. To live with Stefan, to be with him all the time. That’s why she had said her vows to him so readily. Why she had bedded and then wedded him so fast. She had been completely in love with him. Now, he was the father of her child and she knew everything he had said to her about them being together, for Ellan’s sake, and for her reputation, made sense.
But she couldn’t do it...she couldn’t stay here knowing he didn’t care. He had made it sound as if it was a sacrifice he was prepared to make for her and his child. A sacrifice of his own happiness. And it would be too painful seeing him having to put up with her, reluctantly. And eventually, when times got tough, he would leave. That’s what people always did.
He had left her before. Broken her. And she wasn’t sure she’d ever got over it.
‘Stefan,’ she said, stepping towards him. ‘So much has happened between us. Maybe too much to forgive. There is so much mistrust between us. You can’t really think that this is for the best, me living here with you, like a couple.’
He pinched the bridge of his nose before dropping his hand and looking down at her.
‘Ædwen, we are a couple,’ he said, exasperated. ‘When are you going to stop trying to deny it? You chose to marry me and I you. We made our choice.’
She had thought he had values, but when he’d left her, walked away, he’d proved he did not. Now he wanted her back? To try again? She couldn’t comprehend it.
He took a step towards her. ‘And I will not have a second failed marriage!’
She reeled. Her throat closed in shock. ‘What?’ she managed to whisper.
He had been her first. Her only lover. She hadn’t been naive enough to think he’d never been with another woman before her. He had certainly acted, moved, with experience. But she had never pried, never asked to know the details. She had just hoped that anyone before her hadn’t meant as much to him. This was the first time she was hearing about this. About another woman in his life who had obviously been important.
He sighed and sank down on to the bench. For a moment, he put his head in his hands and then dragged his fingers over his face, before sitting up again to face her. He looked tired. Shattered, in fact. ‘I was married once before. A long time ago.’
‘You were?’ She couldn’t believe it. How did she not know this? Why had he never mentioned it before? Surely he should have? This was huge... It made her wonder what else he was keeping from her. But then, she had kept things from him, too.
‘Who was she?’
He shrugged his shoulder, as if she barely mattered. Yet Ædwen knew he wouldn’t have entered into a union lightly... This faceless, nameless woman must have meant a lot to him, as she thought she had, once.
‘Her name was Dania. She was the daughter of a neighbouring tribe leader in Denmark. We were promised to each other when we were children, to maintain a peaceful relationship between our clans as we moved around from place to place. Fortunately, we got along, grew up liking each other.’
‘What happened?’ Her words sounded strange. Ædwen felt as if someone had wrapped a hand around her neck and was gently squeezing. She had thought she was the only woman he had ever cared for and she suddenly felt jealous of a stranger, a person she didn’t even know. Dania.
‘I thought we were happy. But I came home from a fishing trip one day and found her in our bed with another,’ he said, detached, his voice devoid of emotion. ‘A close friend of mine. He was like a brother to me.’
She raked in a breath. He sounded so cold, looked expressionless, but she knew that must have hurt. The betrayal must have cut deep.
‘I’m so—’
‘I vowed I would never put myself in that position again,’ he said, cutting her off, as if he didn’t want to hear her words of pity.
And yet he had. With her. This went some way to explaining why he’d judged her so quickly. Why he’d been so quick to blame her at the first sign of trouble. And now he wore his distrust like armour, because without it, he was unguarded; vulnerable. Now she understood his reluctance to rely on anyone else.
‘Did you...separate?’
‘Yes. Our marriage was over. In Denmark, pagans are allowed to divorce, if it is what both people wish, unlike here in England. And I could not forgive her for her deceit.’
She could understand that, yet it sounded as if he somehow felt he was to blame.
‘She said it was a mistake. She begged for forgiveness, but I withheld it from her. I told her to leave, that she should go and be with him. And eventually, she agreed to go. Unfortunately, things didn’t end well for them...’
She drew in a breath.
‘What happened?’
‘Never mind what happened,’ he bit out, raising his head to look at her. ‘I am older now. Wiser. I won’t make the same mistakes again. I know that when you enter into a marriage you make it work, you fight for it, no matter what... So that is what we are going to do, Ædwen. Especially as you and I now have a child to think about. We must deal with the consequences of our actions.’
‘So what are you asking? You want me to pretend we are in love in front of others?’
He clenched his jaw. ‘You’re good at making someone believe something is real when it isn’t. It shouldn’t be so hard for you.’
She inhaled sharply, ignoring his hurtful comment.
‘And then what? Here, in your home, we live like strangers, tiptoeing around each other?’ She realised she was gripping the cup so hard between her fingers, she was worried it might break, so she set it down on the table.
‘No. I am not suggesting that at all,’ he said, stalking over to her. ‘I am proposing we are married in every sense of the word. All the time.’
‘You mean...?’ Her cheeks flared. ‘You mean you want me to be a wife who comes to your bed?’ she said, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘Despite everything...’
‘Is there another kind of wife?’
‘But why?’ she said, hating that she sounded panicked. That she was letting him get to her.
‘You expect us to live like this and not sleep together?’ he asked, running a hand around the back of his neck. ‘I’m struggling to not to take you in my arms again and kiss you, even now.’
Her heart pounded in her chest. ‘But—’
He silenced her by coming towards her and placing a finger over her lips. ‘Tell me, would it be such a hardship? You seemed to enjoy it before, Ædwen.’
She swallowed and his eyes glittered down at her, challenging her, daring her to deny it. Her insides were melting just looking at him and he wasn’t even touching her properly. Yet. Just undressing her with those blue, expressive eyes.
Finally, he lowered his finger so she could answer. She tipped her chin up. ‘That was a long time ago. I don’t know you. Not any more.’
‘But you want to.’ He reached for her hand, drawing it up to his chest, and held her there. She instinctively flattened her palm against the solid heat. ‘And you will. Living under the same roof will make it hard for you not to know me. And you’ll come to my bed because you won’t be able to stay away. And you’ll enjoy it. I promise.’
His total assuredness, his certainty of her pleasure, made her ache between her legs. She felt her knees tremble slightly, her body heat and she wondered at the power he had over her. How his words and his touch could make her forget everything that had gone before, and all her worries for the future.
‘This is madness,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper.
‘It would be madness not to give each other the satisfaction we both require. You can try to resist me if you like. I shall wait till you’re ready... Hell, I’ve waited a long time already.’
‘I can’t imagine you’ve been celibate all this time we’ve been apart,’ she said, suddenly indignant, removing her hand from his chest. What was it Kendra said earlier—something about her taming him?
He gripped her elbow, holding her fast. ‘Actually, I have,’ he said. ‘There has been no one else. I told you I take my wedding vows seriously. I haven’t lain with another woman since you.’
It was staggering. ‘No one?’ she asked, stunned, and a traitorous elation shifted through her. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she whispered.
‘It’s the truth,’ he said, sliding his arm around her back and pulling her up against him. His words and actions shocked her and delighted her at the same time. His face was so close she could see the golden flecks in his eyes. He hadn’t taken another woman to bed in the fifteen months they’d been apart? Why?
‘I assume you haven’t been with anyone either?’
‘Of course not!’
‘Then that settles it,’ he said.
Her pulse was beating so hard in her chest and her thighs were trembling. She knew she had to fight this. Him. Because his desire was only temporary and, once it was satisfied, where would that leave them? She knew she had to protect herself, her heart... But when he looked at her like this...
As if to torment her, he pressed her closer, eradicating any distance between them, so she could feel all the hard ridges of his body and it made her insides quiver.
‘What are you doing?’ she said, her panic rising, yet her hand was trapped between them, flattened against his chest again and she curled her fingers into him. She gripped his tunic and she could feel his heart beating beneath.
‘Don’t worry. I’m not about to seduce you right now. Unless you want me to,’ he said. ‘I’m just going to kiss you goodnight.’ His other hand came up to hold her jaw, his thumb stroking the corner of her mouth.
The tension in the room was so thick, and he smelt so good, like leather and spice.
‘Stefan...’ she breathed.
She was aware she hadn’t said no, the tips of her nipples painfully hard as they brushed against his chest. He leaned in gently, his hand drawing her head closer. His lips pressed against hers, softly, carefully, and her eyelids fluttered shut. She could feel her pulse pounding in her chest, her throat, as she sank against him, unable to do anything else but give in, and her mouth was just as compliant, opening up to him, all too easily. Still holding her jaw, he slid his tongue inside, exploring her mouth, tasting her fully, setting her body alight.
Chest to chest, thigh to thigh, the kiss went on and on, every stroke of his tongue making her hot with need. Suddenly, she wanted him to put his hands on her. All over her. The thought of him touching some other woman out there in the hall had been unbearable, because, she realised, she wanted him for herself.
But all too soon, he pulled away, reluctantly, his half-closed eyes staring down at her. He had a lot more control than she did.
‘I hope you’re not still going to deny that you want me?’ he breathed, his lips curling upwards into that devastating smirk.
She could hear the arrogance in his voice and she felt exposed. Weak that she had just succumbed to him so easily. Again. Yet she still wanted more. She wanted to get closer. Her face burned and she pushed at his chest, backing away from him, before running up the stairs, unsteady on her feet.
‘Goodnight, Ædwen,’ he called after her, watching her go.
She stopped halfway up, turning back round to face him. ‘Do you...do you want your bed back?’ she asked, trying to sound normal, trying to pretend that scorching kiss hadn’t just happened. That it hadn’t affected her.
‘No. You take it,’ he said.
‘Where are you going to sleep?’ she asked.
‘Down here, on the furs. For now.’
For now.
‘As I said, I will wait for you to come to me, Ædwen. When you’re ready.’
Stefan shrugged off his tunic and took the furs from the bench, laying them down by the dwindling fire. He wondered if Ædwen was asleep. All was quiet and he strained to listen for her or Ellan’s breathing upstairs, but he couldn’t hear a sound. He was a fool to have kissed her, he thought, as now he couldn’t think about anything else but the feel of her in his arms, her soft body pressed against his, her lips moving against his mouth. He’d promised he wouldn’t rush her, said he’d wait until she was ready, so with the restraint he’d cultivated these past fifteen months, he’d pulled away, denying himself the satisfaction he so desperately craved.
But damn, how was he ever going to get to sleep now?
Ædwen had seemed shocked when he’d admitted there had been no other woman since her. Yes, there had been times when he’d wanted a woman, yet no one had compared to her, none had been beautiful enough, or interesting enough to tempt him to break his vows—and he’d often thought perhaps that had that been his comeuppance, for leaving her.
When he woke up in Eastbury in that bed in the monastery, his imagination, his memories...everything was muddled. Ædwen was the only thing that he knew for sure in his life and he had pinned all his happiness, his future, his dreams on her.
That’s why he was so thrown when he saw her with her father.
All his memories had come back and he had been blinded by rage—that she was the daughter of the man who had slaughtered his kin. He had turned his back on her, furious with her for deceiving him and appalled with himself for being so gullible, for allowing himself to be betrayed by a woman for the second time.
When he left her, his life was in turmoil. He’d lost everything. He was all alone—with no home, no food, only the clothes on his back. He had been starving, for days, weeks on end. He’d slept under the stars each night, freezing to death.
He’d vowed never to forgive Ædwen or her father and to one day seek vengeance for his family’s deaths. For losing his entire family all at once.
His anger ran deep. He blamed her for a lot of it.
He had sought out his own kind in England and Canute’s crusade helped to rid him of some of his rage. He’d taken his anger and pain out on every opponent he’d met on the battlefield.
All these months, his resentment towards her had allowed him to keep his distance. Learning that she’d kept his child from him had been the final blow, like an angry boot stamping on burning embers, extinguishing the flame that had burned bright between them for good. But in just one day, she had obliterated all that he’d believed to be true about abandoning Ellan. She had never given up on her. Instead, she hadn’t stopped fighting to get her back, doing all she could. She had even been willing to sacrifice her own future happiness to find her, by agreeing to marry Lord Werian. It was admirable, although maddening. Ædwen was a stronger woman than he’d given her credit for.
He couldn’t believe Lord Manvil would treat her like property. Marry her off to a man against her will in return for an army. Thank goodness he’d made it to the church and prevented the wedding from taking place, rescuing her.
Would her father come for her? he wondered. Canute had asked him that very question this evening and he’d given his answer. Yes, he was certain he would and he thought they should prepare for an imminent attack.
He turned over, on to his side, staring at the dancing flames of the fire. He kept going over the events of the past few days. As Canute’s chief commander, he was responsible for keeping the King and his throne safe. That included the people of Wintancaester and, of course, his wife. His child.
Had bringing Ædwen here put everyone in danger?
It had taken months for the King to secure peace in these lands. The last thing he wanted was to start up a war. And this wasn’t a battleground, it was a city. There were families and homes to protect.
Had he been selfish? Was his judgement off—all because of Ædwen?
Yet Canute had reassured him they’d known the battle was coming anyway. It was only a matter of time. That’s why Lord Manvil had wanted more soldiers. Stefan going to Eastbury and taking Ædwen had just speeded things up.
Thoughts of Lord Manvil readying his army stirred his anger. Part of him longed to fight him, to take revenge at last. But that man was also Ædwen’s father. Ellan’s grandfather. It had taken all his restraint not to challenge him in the church. To rein in his hatred. If he fought him now, how would Ædwen feel about that?
Stefan couldn’t be sure he’d made one good decision since he’d seen her again in that church. He couldn’t fathom why he’d thought any of this was a good idea, as he lay in the darkness, his body tense, his groin hard with need. This was torture...being so close to her and not being able to have her. Yet what was the alternative? She was his wife. This was where she belonged.
But could he trust her?
He would never be able to forget what her father had done. Even though she hadn’t been responsible for running that blade through his father’s chest, for knocking down his brothers, she had kept it from him. What else was she capable of?
He couldn’t believe he’d told her about Dania. The woman who had fallen short in her role as a wife, affecting his security and trust. He never usually spoke of her to anyone. He was ashamed of that period of his life. He’d agonised over what he might have done to contribute to Dania’s rejection.
When he’d slowly begun to recover in the monastery, memories had returned of his upbringing, his family and Dania, and despite deciding never to get close to anyone again, he had fallen for Ædwen. He had known he hadn’t felt true love until then. With Dania he had felt familiarity, what was expected of him...but not this insane desire or need to possess someone completely. And for a while, Ædwen had even made him forget that if you let someone in, they’ll end up hurting you.
But of course, eventually, she had.
Did all women lie? It was a fact he had come to believe. So if they were to be husband and wife again now, he would need to keep his distance, his control, so he wouldn’t be dishonoured again.
Yet he knew that the only way he could rid himself of this burning need that was stirring up his blood was to claim her again. When?
He heard footsteps on the stairs and felt his whole body tighten.
‘Stefan?’
He lifted his head towards the sound of Ædwen’s voice in the darkness. ‘What is it?’ he said, his voice hoarse.
‘Is this where Ellan usually sleeps?’ she asked.
‘No...she usually sleeps in her crib.’
‘Where is that?’ she asked and he knew, without even seeing her, she was frowning. That there was a little crease between her brows.
‘I had it moved out of here before I came to Eastbury.’ He hadn’t wanted her to see it. He hadn’t been sure if he could trust her. ‘I’ll have it brought back in in the morning.’
‘Thank you.’
There was a creak on the stairs. She’d turned to go. ‘Stefan?’
‘Yes.’ He heard the strain in his voice. He was still hoping she’d take the remaining steps down and come to him.
‘Do you still believe my father will send his men here, after me?’
‘Yes. I don’t think he will let this lie.’ There was a pause and then he softened. ‘But you’re safe here, Ædwen. And Ellan. I’ll make sure of it.’ Even though the weight of that responsibility lay heavy on his shoulders. ‘No harm will come to either of you. I promise.’
Yet despite knowing Ædwen and Ellan were both under his roof, in his bed, secure, Stefan barely slept. It was as if his body was coiled like a tight spring, responding to Ædwen’s nearness, tensing every time he heard a movement.
When he finally heard Ellan wake, gurgling away upstairs, he quietly climbed the steps. Ædwen was still fast asleep, her hair splayed out across the furs, her lips slightly parted, and he lifted his daughter up and away carefully so as not to disturb her mother.
He fed her and dressed her as usual, ready for Sister Margaret to collect her, and kissed her goodbye on the forehead. He had just closed the door and gone over to the basin to clean his wound, when Ædwen came tearing down the steps. He glanced over his shoulder. She looked aghast.
‘Ellan!’ she wailed, looking all around them, wide-eyed with fear.
‘Is safe,’ he said, dropping the cloth and walking towards her. ‘Sister Margaret fetched her just now.’
Her shoulders sagged and her hand came across her heart, as his had last night, when he’d realised she hadn’t left him. ‘I thought... I thought the worst. That she’d been taken again...’
‘I didn’t mean to worry you.’ Damn, he should have pre-warned her. He should have known she would have been upset to wake and find her gone.
She drew in a few breaths, calming herself, but frowned. ‘Sister Margaret? Why?’
‘Sister Margaret usually looks after Ellan for me during the day, while I’m on duty.’
She shook her head. ‘But I’m here now. I can look after her.’
‘It’s good to keep to the routine.’
She stamped her foot on the ground, suddenly angry, taking him by surprise. ‘Do I get any say in this? What about what I want? I’m her mother, Stefan, and I’ve only just got her back.’
He crossed his arms over his bare chest. ‘And I’m her father and have been her sole carer this past month. And the Queen has requested an audience with you on a walk this morning, or have you forgotten? Ellan will be fine with Sister Margaret for a short while. You can fetch her when you’re finished with the Queen. Besides, she’s used to the woman. What’s the problem?’ he asked.
She gripped the wooden rail at the bottom of the stairs. ‘I don’t appreciate you making decisions about my daughter without me.’
He cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘And if I hadn’t done that, where would that leave us now?’
She swallowed, her body sagging, and he could see her cave. ‘I’m scared something will happen to her. That she’ll be taken from me again,’ she whispered.
He held her gaze. ‘I told you. I’m not going to let anything happen to her. Or to you.’ He moved closer towards her. ‘Did you get any sleep?’ he asked, studying her features. She looked exhausted, her blue eyes puffy and her skin sallow, her hair beautifully tousled.
‘Not much. I was afraid to close my eyes. I kept checking on her and...’ She shook her head. ‘Am I going crazy?’
He tipped his head to one side and grinned. ‘Maybe a little.’
‘I can’t lose her again,’ she said, adamant.
‘You won’t.’
She lifted her head to look up into his eyes. ‘What if you decide to take her from me?’
He reared back slightly, offended. ‘You think I would withhold her from you?’ His brow furrowed. ‘I would never do that, Ædwen.’
There was still so much distrust between them. He wondered, if this hadn’t happened, if Ellan hadn’t been taken from her, would Ædwen ever have told him about his daughter if he hadn’t come to Eastbury and stopped the wedding? Would he ever have seen Ædwen again?
Yet frustratingly, despite everything, the past wasn’t hindering his attraction to her now.
Suddenly, the air in the room became heavier. He became excruciatingly aware that they were alone, that she wasn’t wearing her pinafore, just her tunic, her hardened nipples showing through the material... His body reacted with force. And by the way she was backing up the stairs, her huge eyes widening, roaming over his bare chest, he knew she felt it, too.
‘Stefan,’ she whispered in submission.
In two strides he was up the stairs, taking her in his arms at the top, his lips coming down on hers in frantic urgency, the pent-up frustration of lying awake all night, thinking about doing this, about kissing her, touching her again, making his movements fiercer than they perhaps should have been.
His hands came up into her hair, holding her head, tipping it back as his tongue pressed between her parting lips, and she moaned into his mouth in desperate, eager response, spurring him on. His own body ignited and he knew he couldn’t be further from being in control. He didn’t want to feel this way. And yet he couldn’t stop.
He pulled away slightly to run the tip of his tongue along her jaw, the column of her throat, scorching her skin with his kisses, her knees buckling as he held her up, her eyelids half closed, as his lips trailed over her shoulders and down, where her tunic was loose at the collar.
And then his mouth was back on hers, his tongue plundering her lips once more, as she gripped on to his shoulders, helpless against his onslaught. He trailed his hand up her side, to curve over her breast, and he caressed her gently, stroking her through her tunic, the peak hardening, making her shiver. He delighted in the weight and feel of her before squeezing her too-soft flesh and she groaned.
He wanted her. Badly. It had been too long. ‘Too many clothes,’ he ground out, against her mouth. And with a savage fervour even he couldn’t contain, his hands skated down over her hips and gripped the material of her tunic, raising it, rucking it up over her thighs, as he pushed his knee between her parted legs, gently lowering her down on to the bed, coming over her, his hard shaft nudging into her stomach.
Could she tell how much he wanted her? The need to touch her became desperate. He wanted to put his hands on her, everywhere. He wanted to be inside her, taking ownership of her body again.
Things were happening fast. She writhed beneath him, his naked chest pinning her down, her tunic bunched around her waist as his splayed fingers roamed up her bare thighs, seeking out her intimate places. Her breath stilled in anticipation of his touch before his hand slid between her legs, his thumb gently skimming over her tiny nub, and she gasped, before he pushed his finger deep inside her, and to his elation and surprise, she came apart—instantly—crying out into his shoulder in wonder and ecstasy.
His forehead against hers, he stared down at her, as he watched her fight for composure, struggling to get her heart rate back to normal. And it allowed him to claw back some of his own control, too.
‘That was fast.’ He grinned.
Her hand still on his shoulder, she looked up at him, uncertain, her cheeks flushed.
She bit her lip. ‘It’s been a while.’
He moved to lie beside her, retrieving his hand from between her thighs and using it to tuck her hair behind her ear.
Her gaze flicked over his chest, his ink...and she gripped his wrist. She turned it over in her hand, studying the new design.
‘It is definitely a sun,’ she said.
He had a feeling she’d been wanting to ask him about the design since she’d seen it in the alehouse. Why did she have to know everything about him? Still.
‘Yes,’ he said, taking her hand in his, entwining their fingers. ‘The name Ellan...it means sun ray, doesn’t it?’
She looked at him, startled, and he held her gaze. ‘Yes. Is that why you got it?’
‘Yes.’
She shook her head in wonder. ‘You’re a devoted father, Stefan.’
‘How did you choose the name?’ he asked.
‘Because looking at her was like looking at this shining, beautiful thing. It seemed to suit her.’
‘It does.’ He nodded, then he pressed a kiss to her palm before lifting away from her, pulling her tunic back down her thighs, covering her up and coming off the bed. He took her hand again and tugged her up so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘I’d better get dressed. I have to go and meet the King...and you, you have a walk with Queen Emma.’
‘I don’t know what I will talk with her about.’
‘Just be...honest.’
‘I always am.’ And then she looked at him, biting her lip. ‘What about...? Don’t you need...want...?’ She frowned, blushing again.
He grinned. ‘I want to possess you again, so badly, it’s all I can think about, Ædwen. But I am prepared to wait till we have more time. Till I can have you properly. No distractions. Right now, I have to meet with Canute and my men.’ He took her chin in his fingers and tipped her face up towards him. ‘Come to my bed tonight.’
She inclined her head. ‘You’re very persistent,’ she whispered.
‘Actually, I’m very patient.’