She looked up sharply, but his expression was guarded. How did he know she’d had three cupfuls? She hadn’t thought he’d been paying her any attention at all.
‘I wouldn’t want you to fall, my lady.’
She gave a snort of derision. ‘I doubt Thane Harald would care.’
‘Perhaps not. He’s not as clever as he thinks.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Antagonising the soon-to-be wife of his future liege lord... He has a lot to learn about diplomacy. But it’s still my duty to protect you.’
She gave a wry smile, the three cupfuls of mead starting to take effect. ‘I thought you were my captor?’
‘That too.’
‘And what makes you think I need protecting? Just because I charged into a skirmish, let my horse bolt and caught a fever?’
He was silent for a moment, as if weighing his words with care. ‘There is that. And also because you remind me of someone.’
‘Oh?’ She felt taken aback. ‘Who?’
‘Someone I knew a long time ago.’
‘A woman?’
‘Yes.’
A woman you cared for? The question sprang to her mind unbidden but she pushed it away. She couldn’t ask him that.
‘A good woman?’
‘No.’
‘No?’ Her face fell abruptly, the effects of the mead evaporating in an instant.
He shrugged, though his shoulders were tense. ‘Her name was Maren. She was a girl from my village in Danemark. I thought I loved her, but... Suffice to say she didn’t love me.’
Aediva stared at him, speechless. He was comparing her to a woman he’d loved! Her heart soared and then plummeted again. No, he’d only thought that he loved her. What did that mean? As bad as it sounded, she had to know.
‘What happened?’
He hesitated for so long that she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he sighed, meeting her eyes with a look of grim intensity.
‘She liked pretty things...stole a necklace from the local manor. When the theft was discovered she came to me, begging for help.’
‘You took the blame?’
‘Yes.’ He looked faintly surprised. ‘She said that she loved me, that she’d be true to me if I took her punishment. I was young and naive enough to believe her. She found someone else instead.’
‘She betrayed you?’
He nodded. ‘I was outlawed, sent into exile—away from my home, my family, everything I loved. Eventually I found myself in Normandy.’
‘So you’re an outlaw?’ She hardly dared say it aloud. The very word was a terrible one, conjuring up images of wild, lawless men. And he was one of them. If it hadn’t come from his own mouth she would never have believed it. The admission made him seem stronger somehow, even more honourable. ‘Does the King know?’
‘Only the King knows. And you.’
‘Oh.’ She felt a stab of conscience. ‘So...she broke your heart?’