The Warrior's Runaway Wife. Denise Lynn
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baulking, he knew he didn’t need to keep a tight hold on her lead.
Once they were on the road, his men split up, Fulke in front and Samuel behind. With them guarding the road, Elrik was better able to keep his attention on Avelyn.
Even though they were moving faster than they had yesterday, her rigid back and near-white knuckles from gripping the reins so tightly made him wonder how long she’d be able to keep up this pace.
Elrik rarely remained at King David’s court longer than absolutely necessary. The times he had tarried overlong, he’d discovered that few, if any, of the men and women in attendance wanted anything to do with David’s Wolf.
However, he had been called to court often enough to notice the actions and manners of the people there and he’d seen enough women of substance on horseback to realise that learning to ride was normal for them. So, Lady Avelyn’s lack of skill confused him.
‘How is it that you never learned to ride a horse?’
Without taking her stare from the spot between her horse’s ears, she asked in return, ‘Even if I’d have had a need to learn, where would I have found a suitable horse?’
‘In your father’s stable?’
The laugh that escaped her lips was more bitter than pleasant. ‘My father did not acknowledge my existence until after my mother died.’
‘I thought—’
‘The same thing everyone else thinks,’ she interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. ‘That I was born and raised in my father’s keep. An assumption that couldn’t be more wrong.’
Elrik knew she was the man’s natural-born daughter conceived outside his marriage. Still, she was an important enough possession to have been raised at his keep and taught the ways of nobility. Since Brandr had been more concerned with removing King David’s rule over the land, perhaps he hadn’t been aware of her birth. ‘Did he know about you?’
‘My mother said that he did. She’d been a servant in his keep, but when it was discovered she carried the lord’s child, the steward banished her from the keep.’ She paused, frowning a moment, then said, ‘Mother had been certain the order came from the lord or lady, yet he seemed shocked when he discovered me in our hut after her funeral. Perhaps he hadn’t issued the order.’
Elrik shook his head, wondering what he’d been thinking to have started such a personal conversation about things that were none of his concern, but curiosity prompted him to push forward, asking, ‘What do you mean he discovered you?’
‘I still don’t know why he came that day.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper as if she were talking to herself. ‘She’d pined for him for as long as I can remember. His name was the one on her lips when she took her last breath. But her prayers and wishes had gone unanswered. Not once in the fourteen years since I’d been born had he come to our home. Not until after her body was covered with dirt.’
‘And that’s when he came for you?’
‘Came for me?’ She looked up at him and shook her head. ‘No. I think he came to make certain my mother was truly gone.’
‘And instead, he found you?’
‘Only by accident. I’d been sitting in a corner eating my last crust of bread when he entered with two of his guards. They stopped me when I tried bolting to safety. I thought they were going to kill me from the way they were excitedly shoving me back and forth, daring each other to be the first to take a taste, but after staring at me for a few moments he ordered the guards to release me.’
Elrik doubted if their intent had been to kill her. ‘So, he did recognise you?’
‘He said I looked like his mother, the late Lady Avelyn. That’s when I realised I’d not been named for my mother’s mother, but for his. Which obviously shocked him, because he paled upon learning my name.’
‘No one had ever told you that?’
‘When my mother said I was named for my grandmother, I always thought she’d meant her mother. So, both he and I were rather surprised.’
She laughed at the memory and, this time, her laughter was lighter, not quite as bitter as it had been earlier. Since she seemed a bit more relaxed than she had when they had first started out, Elrik wanted to keep her talking, so he asked, ‘Did he then move you to the keep?’
Again, she shook her head. ‘Not that day. He had one of his men gather some food from the village for me and vowed to return in a day or so.’
It was difficult to imagine Brandr leaving a fourteen-year-old girl to fend for herself even for just a day or two, especially one who he knew was his natural-born daughter. Old enough to take as a wife—or simply use as one—she’d been left unguarded and alone. Perhaps that was what he had hoped would happen—it would have taken away his responsibility for her care.
Elrik glanced at Avelyn and noticed that she’d released her death grip on the reins and had rested one hand atop the pommel.
‘To my surprise, he did return.’
Since Brandr had shown no previous interest in her or her mother, Elrik could understand her surprise.
‘He and his men terrified the whole village when they loaded me and my few possessions into a cart before torching the hut.’
This time, the stiffening of her body and clenching of her hands had nothing to do with fear of the horse, but obvious anger at Brandr’s actions.
Elrik asked, ‘Did he give any reason for setting fire to what could have provided another with shelter?’
‘He’d claimed it was so I had no place to ever return to. But from the way he tore through my mother’s things first, I believed he’d been looking for something and, when he couldn’t find it, burned the hut to ensure no one else would either.’
‘What could your mother have had that was so valuable to him?’
‘While I suspect he was looking for a gold ring, I never cared enough to ask.’ Avelyn shrugged. ‘All I knew was that he’d destroyed the only home I’d ever known.’
He’d always considered Brandr to be heartless, but he’d never imagined the man to be so devious and petty. It would have made more sense to thoroughly search the hut again instead of torching it. Destroying an enemy’s property during battle was one thing, but to destroy what was essentially his own property out of frustration or spite was not only thoughtless and short-sighted, it showed a complete lack of concern for his villagers—the very people whose welfare was his responsibility.
Noticing the sad downturn of her lips, Elrik drew her attention back to her suspicions. ‘A gold ring?’
‘For my twelfth birthday, my mother gave me a gold ring, stating it had been my grandmother’s wedding band and that I was to keep it safe at all costs.’
‘And did you?’
‘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,