The Warrior's Runaway Wife. Denise Lynn

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      ‘I buried it beneath the floor under my pallet.’

      Of course the man hadn’t thought of digging up the hard-packed floor. ‘That was good thinking for one so young.’

      ‘No, not really. I knew the ring was of value from the markings on it and burying it like a treasure was all I could think of doing.’

      ‘Markings?’

      ‘Yes.’ She reached inside the neck of her gown, tugged out the small pouch and handed him the ring, saying, ‘I don’t know what they mean.’

      Elrik inspected the piece of jewellery. The ring was not a wedding band. He narrowed his gaze and glanced at her before looking back at the gold seal ring. She couldn’t read. Had her father seen to anything that might have benefitted his daughter? If not, then why hadn’t his grandfather done so?

      She might have been born to a servant, but she was a lord’s daughter, more importantly the great-granddaughter of a king. There were things she needed to know how to do in order to be able to run a keep successfully, otherwise she would have to always rely on her husband, or trust the people in her service and neither were the best options. It would be far too easy for someone to take advantage of her.

      He held the top of the ring out for her to see. ‘This is the letter “A” over the top of your great-grandfather’s seal. Your grandmother would have used it to put her official wax mark on any missives she’d sent.’ He turned the ring. ‘The roses on the side are simply for decoration.’

      She frowned. ‘Why would my mother say it was a wedding band?’

      ‘Perhaps she’d been told it was and didn’t know any different.’

      ‘Why would she have it in the first place?’

      Elrik handed the ring back to her. ‘I can only guess that your father gave it to her for some reason.’ It could have been a token of his affection, or payment for services rendered, but he kept those thoughts to himself.

      While once again securing the ring in its pouch tucked safely beneath the neck of her gown, she asked, ‘I can neither read, nor write, so why would she have placed so much importance on keeping it safe when she gave it to me?’

      ‘Lady Avelyn, it is a way for you to prove your relationship to your family if need be. Your mother was looking out for your future in the only way she could.’

      ‘Oh.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Oh! Maybe this is what my father was looking for when he tore apart my mother’s home.’

      ‘Most likely.’ Although why Brandr would need any proof of his identity was a mystery he had no desire to unravel.

      ‘He could have just asked. There was no reason to destroy my home.’

      Elrik had no reply to her comment as there was no good reason for his actions. A few moments of silence passed when he felt her watching him and when he turned his focus back to her, she asked, ‘Have I ruined your high regard for Lord Brandr?’

      Fulke turned to look over his shoulder at her question until Elrik’s hard glare made him once again face forward. Not willing to divulge his hatred of her father, he answered her innocent question as non-committally as possible, ‘Fear not. My regard for Brandr has never been high.’

      ‘Yet you are returning me to him.’

      He reminded her, ‘I am taking you to King David.’

      ‘Who will then hand me back over to the tender care of my father.’

      The disdain in her voice prompted him to ask, ‘Your life with him has not been better than it was before?’

      Avelyn looked at him, wondering if she’d already told him far too much. Instead of telling him that life with her father had been much harder than she’d expected, she said, ‘I learned more in the four years at his keep than I did in the fourteen years with my mother.’

      It wasn’t a lie, she had learned more—much more about the ways of men and the lies they told.

      ‘I imagine it wasn’t easy to leave the life you’d known behind.’

      ‘No, but other people would disagree with you. There were many at my father’s keep who believed the life I had before was not worth living. They didn’t understand how being brought to Brandr could prove a hardship for me. The simple truth was that I had nowhere else to go.’ She would have rather been left alone living in her mother’s home.

      ‘How did you find yourself betrothed to Bolk?’

      ‘I suppose the same as any unwed woman—my family arranged it. From what Lord Somerled claimed when he arrived with the news, my great-grandfather arranged it all.’

      She looked up at him. From the bland expression on his face, she knew he wasn’t interested in anything about her, but had likely been seeking to draw her fear away from being on the back of a horse. His tactic had worked, but it was time to learn what she could about him.

      ‘Enough about me. What was your childhood like?’

      At first, he stiffened and she feared he would say nothing. She’d spent four years living with people who spoke to her only when they absolutely had to do so. These last days spent with Hannah had been a rare blessing as the women were all more than happy to converse. She didn’t look forward to a return of the silence.

      When she could stand the quiet no longer, she said, ‘Please, my lord, I do not ask that you betray any secrets, I want only to hear the sound of another’s voice.’

      Finally, he sighed, then said, ‘My childhood was likely not much different than yours. But my three brothers and I grew up with our father as our mother died in childbirth.’

      ‘The baby survived?’

      ‘Yes. Two of the women in the village had given birth about the same time, so they cared for Rory along with Edan who was about one in addition to their own.’

      That made sense to her since it wasn’t unusual for the women in her village to band together and help each other in time of need. Besides, how would his father have cared for an infant by himself? She couldn’t imagine her father even bothering to attempt the task. He would have been more likely to set the baby outside the castle walls to await its certain death than to assume any responsibility for its well-being.

      ‘How old were you and your other brother?’

      ‘I was nine, so Gregor would have been six.’

      At nine he was still a child. ‘How did your father cope with two young boys and his other duties?’

      Roul laughed before answering, ‘He didn’t. He saw to his duties while I kept Gregor and myself out of trouble as much as possible.’

      The guard behind them snorted. Without turning around, Roul responded, ‘I did a fairly good job of it, except for the times other boys got us embroiled in childish pranks.’

      His men were quick to interject. ‘Like raiding the roost for eggs to toss from trees at people СКАЧАТЬ