‘Well, I do.’ She pulled back, smiling. Somehow just being with someone who knew her sister made her feel closer to Cille. Besides, it felt good to speak Saxon again. She’d been surrounded by Normans for so long she’d almost forgotten how.
‘How is my lady?’ Judith sounded anxious. ‘They say de Quincey’s gone after her.’
‘He still wants to marry her. Did she tell you what happened between them?’
‘No.’ Judith shook her head. ‘She wasn’t happy with Leofric, but she was always loyal to him. She mourned his death after Hastings. Then when de Quincey arrived she seemed different...agitated, somehow...but I never knew why. Everyone could see he was smitten, but she never said anything—not to me or the other maids.’
‘She was unhappy with Leofric?’ Aediva felt a jolt of surprise. ‘She never told me that. What was the matter?’
Judith looked hesitant. ‘It’s not my place to say, my lady.’
‘Did she spend much time with de Quincey?’
‘They dined together, and they spoke about the building work, but she never showed him any special favour. It wasn’t until after he was gone that she seemed...’ Judith frowned, as if searching for the right word. ‘Frightened...’
‘Frightened?’
‘But I never thought she’d run away like she did. Not in her condition.’
‘So you knew she was pregnant?’
‘I suspected. She was sick in the mornings. And there were rumours.’
‘But you don’t know that de Quincey’s the father?’
‘No, but...who else?’
Aediva chewed her lip thoughtfully. At least she wasn’t the only one who’d been surprised by Cille’s behaviour, but she still didn’t have the answers she was looking for. And if Judith didn’t know...
She clambered off the bed. She wasn’t going to be defeated so easily. She’d ask every man, woman and child in Redbourn if she had to.
Just as soon as she got dressed.
She stopped short in the middle of the floor, struck by a new dilemma. ‘My clothes! They took them for washing and Cille’s gowns are in the other hall.’
‘Don’t worry, the Warden thought of that too. He’s having one of Lady Cille’s coffers sent up. Your old gown isn’t fit to be seen.’
‘He’s sending the clothes here?’ Aediva’s eyes widened in surprise. If he were having clothes sent to the bedchamber did that mean he expected her to sleep there permanently? He’d said that they would lead separate lives, and she’d assumed that this would be his room, not hers. Or did he intend for them to share it?
‘He’s very handsome.’ Judith gave her a sly look.
‘He’s Norman. Sort of.’ She took refuge in the old argument.
‘That doesn’t make him less pleasing to look at. There’s plenty here that would have him, but he seems to have eyes only for you.’
‘He does not!’ She felt a telltale blush spread up and over her cheeks. ‘N
ot like that anyway. Maybe once, but not now.’
Judith smiled serenely. ‘If you say so, my lady. But I saw his face this morning. It was the same as de Quincey’s when he met Lady Cille last year. And look what happened there...’
* * *
It was twilight by the time the scouting party returned, the clouds turning to misty drizzle as they rode back through the gates, sodden and saddle-sore.
Svend let his men disperse quickly. They’d ridden across half the county that day, finding signs of rebel activity although no rebels themselves. But it was a promising start. The trail was warm—could be picked up again tomorrow. They’d find them soon enough...he was sure of it.
He ate a brief dinner and then made his way to the bedchamber, pausing with his hand on the door. Would Aediva be inside? There’d been no sign of her in the hall, but that was hardly surprising. She’d probably gone back to her sister’s old room. But there was still a chance...