She supposed it wasn’t out of the question.After all, the king had approved the marriage between Sir Gellir and a maidservant.But as far as Adam knew, Eve was an outlaw.Certainly a line had to be drawn somewhere.
And if he was so sure of their love, why wouldn’t he tell her who he was?
Of course, she realized.She already knew the answer to that.
Adam was spying for the king.
He couldn’t tell her who he was, because knowing might endanger both their lives.
She followed him down the path with newfound understanding and respect.He was a man of his word, and he’d sworn not to disclose his mission.It followed then that he would keep his word when it came to his promise to her.
Eve daydreamed as they walked through the woods.She imagined the beautiful wedding they’d have.At her father’s humble keep with all her friends and clan?Or at the magnificent castle of Rivenloch with glorious warrior maids and knights in polished armor?
She didn’t care, as long as Adam was by her side.
She would wear her beautiful scarlet gown.
Nay, she remembered, she’d left it at the byre with Carenza.There might not be an opportunity to fetch it.
Lady Hilda’s azure brocade gown would have been stunning.But it was soaked with blood.
Maybe her father would be so glad to see her wed to a Rivenloch, he’d commission new wedding attire for her.Of course, it would have to be tasteful and meaningful.
Perhaps one in emerald silk embroidered with the flowers and birds and woodland creatures the two of them had encountered in their travels.
Or a modest fawn-colored linen to reflect Eve’s years of pious good works.
Brilliant lapis lazuli skirts sewn with gemstones to impress her new clan.
Or something in soft peach-colored velvet to tempt her bridegroom.
She imagined the happy years ahead of them.
Side by side, they would pursue their Greater Purpose.Doing good deeds.Helping those in need.Saving troubled souls.Teaching honor and respect, chivalry and charity to others.
She was imagining the exciting adventures they would embark upon when the road passed by a narrow deer trail.
“There’s a burn not far from here along this trail,” Adam said.“We can eat and drink.And I’d like to wash off the ashes.”
The burbling burn cut deep into the sod, rolling playfully along in the sunlight.Bright birches stood tall along the shore, and willows hung over the water.
Eve found her plaid and spread it on the soft bank.She prepared food from their satchels—hard cheese, oatcakes, butter, dried apples, and a jack of ale.
She was about to tell Adam it was ready when she heard a plash of water.
He’d stripped off his cassock and was wading into the middle of the burn.
Her breath caught.
The shimmering reflection of the sunlit waves danced upon his naked skin, illuminating every curve and muscle.His back looked like the strong trunk of an oak, and below, his buttocks tensed as he made his slow descent into the water—to his calves, his knees, his thighs.
The sight of him was doing curious things to her body.Her heart thrummed against her ribs.Her face suffused with heat.Her breath grew rapid and shallow.Her nether regions began to rouse like a flower after a spring rain.
As he sank lower in the water, his broad shoulders rose, and he shuddered once at the cold.
Then he plunged under all at once.
She gasped at his boldness.That water had to be icy.Now she was sure the Rivenlochs were descended from Vikings.
