“Yes?” Brynn’s eyes had sunk to the floor.
Cenric rested a hand on her shoulder, tugging her around to face him. “I’m sorry.”
Brynn shook her head, still not quite meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to apologize.”
Cenric caught her chin, tilting it up to bring her gaze to meet his. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, stroking his thumb along her chin.
Brynn inhaled a deep breath. “It’s alright.”
It didn’tfeelalright. Cenric rested his forehead against hers. From the corner of his eye, he saw Edric open his mouth, but Gaitha elbowed her husband, cutting off the interruption.
Brynn tensed for just a moment, like she hadn’t expected that. Then she seemed to relax, easing into the closeness with him.
That odd feeling in his chest twisted once again. Her trust in him was such a tentative thing, just now putting down roots. Cenric wanted to cultivate it, protect it, but just now he had to leave her, if only for a day.
Cenric almost claimed her mouth, but instead pressed a kiss to her forehead, just over the space between her eyes.
Brynn softened against him, a slow exhale escaping her lips. Her fingers found the front of his wool mantle, clenching into the thick fabric, careful to squeeze just the fabric.
It was so innocent, so sweet, and yet so timid. Brynn was always nervous when she touched him, like she feared his response every time. Just what had her first husband done to her?
Cenric cradled her cheek as he pulled away, reluctant to let her go. “I will see you tomorrow.”
“I will wait for your return.” It was a soft vow, patient and meaningful.
He held eye contact with her for a long set of heartbeats to make sure she meant what he thought she meant. She bit her lip, just the edge, her eyes falling to his mouth again.
Cenric silently cursed his aunt as he pulled away. What difference would it make if he took his wife to his bed for an hour or so, and then set out? But no. Some things shouldn’t be rushed.
“Edric, Gaitha, look after her. See her settled in. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Cenric stormed out of the longhouse. If his aunt’s captive dyrehund turned out to be another badger…
Brynn
Brynn was surprised by the weight of disappointment that bore down on her as Cenric disappeared out the longhouse doors. Perhaps it was because he was the most familiar person here. Perhaps she really had been looking forward to tonight.
Maybe she just wanted to be the center of a man’s attention for once.
Brynn had always done the right thing—and Cenric was tantalizinglywrong. He was her husband, true, but she’d married him against her mother’s wishes. He was unsuitable, forbidden.
He had said he would show her how good it could be. Cenric had shown he wanted her body, at least, which was already an improvement.
It shouldn’t matter, but Brynn caught herself hoping it was more than that. Did helikeher? Was it just attraction or could he possibly be fond of her as a person?
In many ways, it felt that what she had been through—the war, the loss of Aelfwynn, the loss of her home, six years of a miserable marriage, and the loss of Osbeorn—had aged her far beyond her twenty-three summers, but in some ways, she was still a naïve little girl.
“This way, lady,” Gaitha said. “Let the men finish bringing in the trunks. They can do something useful for once.” She shot a glare to Edric. “I will show you to your room and around the longhouse.”
“My thanks.” Brynn’s gaze lingered where Cenric had gone.
“Never fear.” Gaitha caught Brynn’s arm and hooked it through hers. “Our lord might be inconvenienced at the moment, but he will be back in no time.”
“Does his aunt often have these emergencies?” Brynn asked.
“Old Aegifu? From time to time. If you ever meet her, you’ll understand.”
“I see.” Brynn let Gaitha lead her toward the back of the hall.
A large hearth took up the center. That would be where most the cooking was done. Two rows of tables and benches lined either side, though they had been stacked out of the way for now. In the back was what appeared to be Cenric’s room, a ladder leading up to the loft over it.
