‘They’re coming, my lord. A great army. They’ve been spotted not far from here. We raced back to tell you as fast as we could.’
Still fastening his chainmail, Stefan had opened the door to find soldiers on the step, come to relay their urgent message.
‘You’re certain? They’re heading this way?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
Ædwen secured her final brooch behind him, her fingers trembling with fear.
‘How many are there?’ she heard him ask.
‘Two hundred. Maybe three. They’ll be upon us by daybreak.’
Stefan cursed and reached for his sword, just as she appeared at his side. ‘Is it a force from Eastbury?’ she asked. ‘Is it my father?’
The men glanced between themselves, before looking at Stefan and then her. ‘We believe so, my lady.’
She shivered as she realised the danger they were all in. She knew all too well what her father’s men were capable of.
Was this all because of her?
Stefan grabbed his shield. ‘Man the walls. Prepare for attack,’ he said with no hesitation and she watched in admiration as the men immediately began to fall out, to follow his command.
‘Stefan,’ she said, placing a hand on his arm. ‘I could ride out. I could speak with my father.’ She couldn’t bring danger to the door of the people who had welcomed her here. She had to do something.
‘No,’ he said. ‘We cannot risk him or his men seeing you, or finding Ellan here. We don’t know what he’s prepared to do.’
‘But you can’t put other people at risk because of me.’
‘That is for me and for the King to decide.’
Anger roared in her stomach. If this fight was about her, surely she should have a say in it?
He stepped through the door and she followed him.
‘I told you to stay here,’ he said.
‘I can help...’ she protested. ‘I know how to wield a sword.’
‘No!’ he said, turning back to face her, swiping a hand over his face. ‘I do not want you fighting. I wouldn’t be able to focus.’
‘And I need to get Ellan at least...’ she said.
He growled and they both went through the door, slamming the wood behind them.
His long, powerful legs strode out and she tried to keep up with him. Soldiers were running ahead of them, out into the cloisters, to the courtyard, following his orders. And people were rushing along the corridors in panic, trying to get back to their homes, to get their children and animals inside.
Surely the people would want to hand her over, rather than put their families in danger? This wasn’t their fight. Yet Stefan had implied her father had been planning this for a while. Had what had happened in the church the other day only escalated things? Was Lord Werian with him?
She shuddered. She did not want to be forced home with her father to marry someone of his choosing, especially not now she had been with Stefan again. And there was no way she could be parted from her child. She would rather die. But could she really ask Stefan, and the people of Wintancaester to put themselves at risk for her?
At the end of the corridor, Stefan turned to go towards the King’s hall and she went the other way, towards the monastery. But not before he pulled her back, taking her chin in his hand and kissing her briefly on the lips. ‘Be careful,’ he said.
Ædwen had sped towards the monastery, bursting inside, asking the nuns where Sister Margaret was. And when her eyes fell upon her, her blood ran cold. For Sister Margaret was talking to a woman and Ædwen knew, instantly, who it was.
It was the woman she had seen in the market.
Her mother. She was alive.
‘Hello, Ædwen,’ the woman said, rising to her feet, wary.
Ædwen reeled, momentarily forgetting all else, the danger they were in. Her mother was here, coming towards her. The woman she had missed for so many years. She had always hoped she would return. And now here she was, looking down at her, offering her a tentative smile.
Ædwen glanced up at Sister Margaret, throwing her a questioning look, then back at her mother, unable to believe it. Was she dreaming?
‘What are you doing here?’ she managed to say finally.
‘I live here now. In Wintancaester.’
A lump grew in Ædwen’s throat.
She hadn’t died. She hadn’t been killed. She had been alive all this while, but she had not come to find her.
She looked different to how Ædwen remembered her. She was older, of course, and had more lines around her eyes and her lips. Her eyes were a more jaded blue and her hair was lighter, a blondish white. But her face was still the same.
Emotion swelled up inside her. Joy. Hurt. Confusion. This was the woman she’d longed for as a child. The woman she’d wanted when she’d fallen over and hurt herself. The woman she’d needed when Stefan had left and her heart had been broken. And the woman she’d needed when she’d discovered she was with child.
The woman who had abandoned her.
Where had she been?
Why had she left?
Why hadn’t she returned?
‘Where have you been?’ Ædwen said.
‘I’ve always been around,’ her mother said, stepping towards her. ‘I was never far away, keeping an eye on you from afar. Despite what you might think, I was always watching over you, needing to know you were safe.’
What good had that been to her?
‘But...why?’ Ædwen said, her brow crumpling into a hurt frown, needing answers, to understand. ‘Why did you leave me?’
‘I shall go,’ Sister Margaret said, holding Ellan in her arms.
‘No, stay,’ Ædwen commanded and the woman faltered before sitting back down.
‘I have much to tell you. Much to explain,’ her mother said.
Ædwen shook her head. How could anything she had to say make a difference? How could her words make the hurt disappear? What she had done was unforgivable. Unthinkable.
Is that how Stefan felt about her?
She glanced at her child in Sister Margaret’s arms and suddenly felt the need to hold her, to keep her close. She took her precious bundle from the nun’s arms and drew her towards her chest.
‘Your father and I, it was an arranged marriage. An unhappy marriage. He never cared much for me, or I him,’ her mother said, wringing her hands. ‘You, Ædwen, were the only good thing to come of it. And I loved you, desperately. I cherished you above everything else. Apart from you, my life was so bleak. So desperate. Until I met a man. A Danish man. And we started an affair.’
Ædwen glanced at Sister Margaret. A Danish man? A man like Stefan?
‘I got carried away with it, totally caught up with him. I’m sure you know how that feels...’
Her mother glanced down at Ellan, then back at her.
‘I became pregnant with his child. Your father and I had been trying for a son for many winters, after we’d had you, and we had given up hope. Then I met this man and got with child... It was a boy. And your father could never forgive me for it.’
Ædwen could imagine. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he was so anti-Dane and didn’t want a Danish king to rule here.
‘Your father made me choose. A new life with this man and my son, or to stay with him and you. It was a tragic decision.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I knew if I stayed your father could never love my son. And he despised me. I knew the impact our arguments were already having on you. So I made the choice to leave. But it broke my heart to do so, Ædwen.’
The woman stepped towards her.
‘I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye. I know that was selfish of me. But I thought it would be easier for both of us if I just disappeared. I had my son and we moved here, to Wintancaester, but I couldn’t get over leaving you behind. When I could, I would ride out to Eastbury and watch you playing on the beach, or reading in the monastery gardens, to check you were being well looked after.
‘I never gave up hope that we might be reunited one day. And when I saw you here in the streets of Wintancaester today, with a Dane, I couldn’t believe it. I thought you must finally be free of your father. I wondered if it was at last possible for me to see you again... So here I am.’
Ædwen shook her head, unable to comprehend all that the woman was telling her. ‘Why didn’t you make yourself known to me?’ she said bitterly. ‘I thought you were lost to me, for ever.’
‘I was afraid.’ She shrugged. ‘I so wanted to know you again. But I thought you might despise me, for abandoning you as a child. For being a terrible mother. And because I’d made a promise to your father. So I stayed away. I know you may not be able to forgive me, or even want to see or talk to me, but I had to come here. I had to try.’
She couldn’t believe that just a few days ago, she had left Eastbury, not realising her child, her husband and her mother lived in the city. It was overwhelming.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Ædwen said. ‘It’s a lot to take in.’
‘I know. I’m so sorry.’
‘Does that mean I have a brother I need to meet, too?’ Ædwen said, drying her tears.
‘Yes,’ her mother said. ‘His name’s Ethelred. He works in the palace.’
‘Ethelred?’ she gasped. ‘I think I know him! The King’s messenger?’
‘Yes.’
This was all so surreal.
‘I started to think about you a lot more when I had Ellan. How you could leave me...’
‘She’s beautiful,’ her mother said, inclining her head towards the baby. ‘I can’t believe I’m an ealdormōdor. She is half-Dane?’
‘Yes.’ Ædwen nodded.
She wasn’t sure she could forgive her. She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure she could deal with this right now. And then she remembered, why she had come. ‘Father’s coming,’ Ædwen blurted. ‘He’s bringing a great army. I fear I have put the people in danger.’
Her mother cursed. ‘You’re the excuse he has been waiting for to attack. He can’t abide a Dane being on the throne. This was always going to happen regardless of you and the King’s man.’
Ædwen handed Ellan back over to Sister Margaret.
‘Nevertheless...you need to stay inside the monastery. Stay hidden. I must help Stefan. The people... Take care of her for me, until I come back,’ she said to the holy woman.
And the nun nodded. ‘Be careful.’
Ædwen looked back at her mother, deciding what she must do. ‘If I have had a part in it, I must help stop it,’ she breathed. ‘And you, Mother, you will help me.’
Stefan and Canute were going over their plan to defend the city, leaning over the model of Wintancaester out in the courtyard, finalising their plans, their most skilled men surrounding them. They were all dressed in their armour, holding torches. Canute had directed the generals to ready the various sections of the armies, to warn the people to stay inside their homes and not to panic. Stefan knew the walls were strong. They would protect them for a while, but he was aware they might have to take the fight beyond the boundaries, to keep the people safe.
He had known this would happen. He had known Lord Manvil would come. Canute had been preparing for him to lay siege to the city for some time, but Stefan was under no illusion that him wounding the man’s pride in Eastbury the other day, taking his daughter from him, would have aggravated the tension. But he had thought it might take him longer. Perhaps he had underestimated the man’s need for revenge.
He didn’t want to be responsible for bringing bloodshed upon the people and guilt assailed him. While the enemy had been approaching, he’d been busy seducing Ædwen, taking her to bed, rather than preparing to defend their city. He’d been distracted. He should have done more.
Yet would he take back the things they’d done together earlier? No. It had been everything he’d wanted and more. All he’d dreamed of. She had felt so good, moving beneath him, on top of him.
Yet now he had to prepare to face down her father, the man who had killed his family.
‘I shall lead the infantry out of the gates, on to the battlefield,’ he said now. ‘We need to keep the fight away from the city.’
‘You should stay with the King. Command the forces from within the walls,’ Maccus said.
Stefan shook his head. ‘No. This is my fight.’
The King stepped forward and placed his hand on Maccus’s shoulder. ‘Stefan is the best fighter there is. We need him out in the field. We need him leading the men. Just like his father.’
Stefan’s body went stock-still and he swung to look at his King. What had he said?
‘You knew my father?’ he asked, incredulous.
The King gave a sharp nod. ‘Yes. I knew him. It’s why I gave you a chance, when you came to me. Why I championed you. I knew what you would be capable of. I knew I could rely on you on a day like today.’
Stefan’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t believe it. ‘Why have you never mentioned this before?’ His throat felt tight. It was a struggle to get the words out.
The King shrugged. ‘I wanted you to be your own man. And you are. Besides, I know you took his death hard. That can sometimes have an impact on a man.’
‘How did you know him?’ Stefan pressed.
The men seemed to crowd closer.
‘Perhaps we should talk about this later, over an ale,’ Canute said.
Stefan shook his head. ‘No. Now.’
An expectant hush reverberated around the courtyard at the way Stefan spoke to the King, but Canute showed no sign of surprise and let it lie.
‘He was one of the first of my people to come over here, to England. To pave my way to the throne. Eastbury has always been a place of strategic importance. We knew if we took it, it would make it easier for more of us to come over.’ Now it was the King’s turn to frown. ‘I thought he told you. That you knew that’s why you were here... He commanded the respect of his men, just like you do. Which is why I’m glad I have you at my side now, to finish what he started!’
Stefan’s whole world tilted. He felt sick. He had thought they’d come here in peace, not to attack. He had professed his people’s innocence to Ædwen time and time again. But he’d believed a grave untruth.
‘So my father came here not to find land, not to farm, but to raid and conquer? You sent him?’
‘Land to farm was always the end goal, Stefan. But he knew we had many battles on our hands before that could happen.’
Stefan’s head hurt and he raised his hand to run over the scar on his forehead. Discovering his father’s true intentions for their voyage to England was overwhelming. He had put his sons’ lives in danger. And Stefan wondered how he hadn’t seen it, been aware of it, realised it. Suddenly, he felt his judgement couldn’t be trusted.
As if everything he thought he knew was a lie.
Had everyone in his life deceived him? Could he not even trust those he held in the highest regard? First Dania and now his father. Even Canute had withheld the truth from him, to a point. And Ædwen, he had this insatiable need for her, he always had, but he was still hurt and angry over her decision to lie to him about his family and her father’s role in their deaths, making him unwilling to trust her and give her his heart again.
Suddenly he felt resistant to his resurging feelings towards her. He was disgusted at his weakness that he had managed to forget her lies and deception of that day so easily. That he’d just had sex with her.
He had been weak and he felt angry with everyone.
At that moment, Ædwen came rushing into the courtyard.
Ædwen’s father had reached them sooner than they’d thought. Outside, nothing could have prepared her for the sight. Hundreds of people were running into the courtyard, coming into the palace off the streets. They looked frightened: mothers sheltering their children, fathers standing side by side with the soldiers lining up in the square. Ædwen realised they were under attack. That the enemy must be here. She and her mother called to them to take shelter, directing them inside the monastery. It was all so unreal, like a bad dream.
She looked around for Stefan, wondering where he could be. She just wanted to be back in his arms, making love with him, to pretend none of this was happening. She wanted him to be safe.
Finally, she spotted him, the King at his side, rallying the men, and her heart almost stopped beating. Surely they weren’t going to ride outside the gates? Surely they weren’t going to charge on the enemy? She couldn’t lose him. Not now. She couldn’t believe that it had come to this. That her love for a man had brought about so much hate. That her father was laying siege to the King’s palace. She hoped that Canute and Emma, and the people of Wintancaester, would one day forgive her.
She had thought about slipping away, without Stefan knowing, to find her father and try to reason with him. But she was too late. And she knew Stefan might never forgive her if she went without his permission and she didn’t want to do anything to ruin his trust. Not after how far they’d come.
She had the desperate need to tell Stefan about meeting her mother, even though she knew it wasn’t the right time. The revelation was huge. She had not been expecting to ever see her again, let alone have the woman announce she wanted to be a part of her life. That she always had. She wanted to know what Stefan thought about it. His opinion meant a lot.
Her mother leaving her had affected her whole life and her relationships with others. It had made her distrustful, sparking her fears of abandonment. Her return and desire to be in Ædwen’s life was astounding. It rocked the very foundations of her beliefs.
If her mother could return and reveal she had never stopped loving her, that she wanted a second chance, could the same be true of her relationship with Stefan? Could it be possible that he might care for her again, too? Reconciling with her mother had given her courage. Perhaps, if she was brave enough to admit her feelings for Stefan, would he stay with her, always? Because she realised now, she had never stopped loving him.
She hadn’t seen Stefan since they’d left his room. Since he’d made love to her again. But despite the imminent danger they were in, her thoughts kept returning to the way he had moved inside her, his blue gaze fixed on hers as he pleasured her again and again.
If these few days had taught her anything, it was that she didn’t want to live in the past. That’s where all the mistakes and heartache belonged. She wanted a future. She wanted a future with Stefan.
Rushing across the courtyard, she heard him giving orders to his men. She took a deep breath, digging deep for her courage. The conversation with her mother had helped her resolve a lot of her fears. She had realised how much Stefan meant to her and she had to tell him. Now. Before he went into battle. She was ready.
‘Stefan...’ she said, as she approached.
He turned and their eyes collided across the open space. But his intense blue gaze was ice-cold and full of...what?
Her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. Her blood froze. Was something wrong?
Goose pimples prickled along her arm.
‘Stefan, I need to talk to you.’
‘Not now,’ he barked.
He averted his gaze. It was almost as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. As if he was closed off from her.
Pain lanced her heart, wounding her. It was not the greeting she’d been expecting, especially after the way he’d touched her earlier. After the intimate things they had done. It was as if it was a different man staring back at her. A stranger.
She wavered.
Was he behaving like this because his men were here? Because he had to focus on the fight that lay ahead? Was she just a distraction he didn’t need?
But she couldn’t bear it if something were to happen to him, if he were to get hurt, and she hadn’t told him how she felt. ‘It’s important,’ she pressed.
‘So is this fight. In case you hadn’t noticed, your father has brought an army to our door. We’re at war.’
Her heart lurched. Was he simply worried about the battle and the safety of his people? Although his voice sounded full of...blame. Disgust.
‘Stefan, please don’t do this. Please don’t fight him. Let me talk to him.’
‘There’s nothing to talk about, Ædwen.’
Did he mean them or him and her father?
Her father was coming for him again...was it stirring up his anger from the past? It was possible, as he was looking at her with a kind of disdain. As if he felt bad about what they’d done, as if he regretted it.
Yes, that was it, she thought, the realisation stealing her breath away. He regretted making love to her.
He had taken what he’d wanted from her and now, after sating his desire, it was as if he was done.
Hurt ripped through her. She had known this might happen. Always thought it was a risk. She knew she should have said no to him. Yet she hadn’t been able to resist him. She was even about to profess her love for him. She took a step back.
‘I thought you were going to find Ellan. I thought you were going to look after her,’ he bit out.
‘I did. I am...’ she said, frowning.
‘Good. After all, we are honouring our commitment, this marriage, just for her sake, yes?’
It was the final blow. She felt ill, her legs weak. She had hoped it was about love.
He slammed down his helmet and swung himself up on to his horse. Were those the last words he would ever say to her? Was this the last time she would ever see him?