‘Those are the Earl’s orders.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’ll come back later.’
He backed out of the room hastily and she sank down onto the bed, stricken with guilt. She’d been so preoccupied with Svend over the last two days that she’d hardly thought about the prisoners at all. She hadn’t even considered what was going to happen to them. Her whole world seemed to have contracted to this one room.
She gazed down at him lovingly, dipping her fingers into the soothing ointment the wicce had given her, then rubbing them gently over his bare skin. His chest moved up and down beneath her touch, warm and smooth and sprinkled with a fine layer of soft white-gold hair. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her mind on the task. Even covered in red and purple bruises, his body still had a powerful effect on her senses. The thrill of running her hands over his hard, taut muscles was as strong and distracting as ever.
Should she tell him about Edmund? She’d intended to, but that had been before the accident. She didn’t want anything to disrupt his recovery, but she couldn’t bear to think of Edmund being dragged in chains before the Earl either. No matter what he’d done to her, she didn’t want that.
‘You should get some air.’ Svend’s voice was sleepy. ‘You don’t have to tend to me all day.’
‘I’m not leaving you.’ She smiled, amazed at the power his blue eyes held over her. Just one look from them made her insides feel weak. ‘Not until I can trust you to stay put.’
‘And I hoped it was because you might care...’
‘That too.’ She took hold of his hand and squeezed it, feeling a rush of tenderness.
When they’d carried him in on a stretcher she’d felt as though it was her own body that had been crushed. She’d spent a night of anguish waiting for him to wake up, and spent every day since falling more deeply in love with him than ever.
On the other hand, he was the worst patient she’d ever known—trying to get out of bed twenty times a day and wanting to know everything that was happening in the castle. To quell his impatience she’d arranged for Renard to bring almost hourly reports, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep him in bed. There was only one sure method she could think of, and that was the one thing she had to avoid—no matter how tempted she was to succumb. Injured or not, nothing seemed to dampen his ardour.
She forced her mind back to the present. ‘Bertrand was here. He wanted to ask about tomorrow.’
‘He told you about that?’
‘Only by accident. He said the prisoners are going to be taken for sentencing.’
‘Those are the Earl’s orders.’
‘That’s what he said.’ She took a deep breath, steeling her nerve for her next question. ‘What’s going to happen to them?’
‘If they surrender and swear fealty there’s a chance they might be pardoned, but FitzOsbern’s losing patience with them. In all honesty, I don’t know.’
‘Isn’t there another way? Couldn’t you just...send them away? Let them go?’
‘No.’ His voice hardened. ‘I can’t let the Earl think I have any sympathy with them.’
‘Do you? Have sympathy with them, I mean?’
‘They’re fighting for their home—I can understand that—but they knew what they were doing when they joined the rebellion. They chose their side.’ He sighed. ‘I have to follow my orders, Aediva.’
‘Because FitzOsbern will blame me if you fail?’
He looked surprised and she shrugged.
‘He told me so at our wedding feast.’
Svend’s jaw tightened revealingly. ‘I won’t take any risks—not where you’re concerned.’
‘What would he do? Annul our marriage?’
He didn’t answer and she tilted her head, peering at him quizzically. ‘Svend?’
‘That would be the best we could hope for.’
‘Oh.’ She held back a shudder. That was that, then. She had her answer. There was no point in asking Svend to release Edmund. But she still had to admit that she’d seen him. Somehow it felt disloyal not to.