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The Earl’s fingers toyed with the stem of his cup. ‘It’s not a bad idea. I could almost suspect that you’ve agreed to it already.’

‘It works for all of us.’ De Quincey’s tone was smoothly persuasive. ‘I’ve no desire to come back here. This was Cille’s home with her first husband. Once I find her, with the King’s permission, we’ll go back to Normandy and make a fresh start.’

FitzOsbern nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on Svend. ‘The King promised to reward you, did he not?’

‘Yes my lord, but...’ Svend was speechless, his surprise giving way to incredulity. He was the son of a farmer, an outlaw. He could never aim so high...

‘You haven’t failed the King yet. Though we’ll have to do something about the woman.’

‘My lord...?’ His brow furrowed at once.

‘As the Warden of Redbourn you will need a Saxon bride. And since Lady Cille is already spoken for the sister will have to suffice. Unless you have any objection?’

Svend hesitated. The Earl was offering him a reward greater than any he’d ever imagined. Land, a castle, a home of his own...

A home with a woman who’d deceived him, a woman he’d almost, almost loved. That morning he would have agreed in a heartbeat, but now... How could he live side by side wit

h a woman he didn’t trust?

‘So reluctant?’ The Earl looked bemused. ‘Most men would have bitten my hand off by now. I’m offering you a castle and half of the shire to boot. Surely the prize is worth tolerating one Saxon maid?’

‘Yes, my lord...’ He faltered, fumbling for an explanation.

Tolerating her wasn’t the problem—at least not in the way the Earl meant. He wanted to do a lot more than just tolerate her. The very idea was dangerously tempting. But desire could be conquered, overcome. It had to be. He couldn’t bed a woman he couldn’t trust. They would lead separate lives. She could go back to Etton if she wanted. That would probably be best for both of them.

‘You think she’s untrustworthy?’

FitzOsbern looked suspicious and he shook his head hastily.

‘It’s not that, my lord, I’ll vouch for her. But she might not want me.’

‘I hadn’t intended to give her a choice.’

‘I never thought to marry at all.’

‘Then this is your chance.’ The Earl’s gaze narrowed perceptibly. ‘You should take it, Danemark. I won’t offer twice.’

Svend felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. He was being foolish—ought to grab the prize with both hands before FitzOsbern retracted his offer. This was the reward he’d worked so hard for, the reward he’d thought that he’d lost—everything he wanted with just one proviso. Her. Somehow they’d become bound together, woman and reward, and if he couldn’t take one without the other he’d have to take both.

He made up his mind. He wasn’t going to let a woman take everything from him again.

‘You honour me, my lord. I won’t fail you.’

‘Good.’ The Earl raised his cup in salute. ‘Then it’s decided. You can tell her the news. These things always sound better from a lover.’

He smiled, as if the description were incongruous, and Svend gritted his teeth. The very word brought to mind things he didn’t want to imagine. As her husband he’d be free to touch her, to hold her, to explore her body and all its hidden spaces...all the things he had to resist.

Of course that was if she agreed to the marriage. Somehow he doubted she’d take the proposal calmly. She’d be as thrilled by the idea as he was. On the other hand there was a kind of poetic justice to their predicament. He couldn’t think of a more fitting punishment for her deceit. She was the one who’d pretended to care for him. Now she’d have to live with the consequences.

And so would he.

He made a formal bow and strode out of the hall, already bracing himself for the interview ahead. He’d tell her the Earl’s decision, but he wasn’t going to ask her to marry him. Castle or not, he wasn’t going to ask her for anything. If the idea were abhorrent to her she could tell the Earl so and deal with the fallout herself. He was finished with protecting her. From now on she could take care of herself.

And if she said no...would he still get Redbourn? He frowned, wondering what the Earl would do if she refused. What would happen to his reward then?

For the first time in as long as he could remember he didn’t care.

Chapter Twelve


Tags: Jenni Fletcher Historical