“It is—nay, I swear it is,” he added when he saw her doubting expression. “’Tis just sudden movements and loud noises make it seem otherwise—sometimes. Not always. But maybe some quiet would be in order.”
“Certainly.” Kristen was nothing but solicitous now, straightening his pillows, smoothing his brow. “Rest until your meal is prepared. I will have Edith bring—”
“Nay, not her. In fact, if you would do me a service, keep her busy with other tasks. I needs must expend myself too much when she is about.”
Kristen chuckled. “Poor Selig. Not feeling up to your usual seductions?”
“Teasing does not come under the heading of quiet,” he grumbled.
“I suppose not.” She sighed. “Very well, Iwill keep the wench away until you want her back. Will Eda do?”
“Your Eda will be most welcome.”
The door closed a moment later. Erika did not turn around. She hoped he meant to sleep off his present pain. She hoped he would not ask why she had said what she did, because she had no answer for herself, much less for him. Most of all, she hoped he would simply ignore her today. He was good at ignoring her—when he wasn’t giving her his undivided attention.
“Are you married, Erika No Heart?”
So much for hoping.
“That is not my name, and nay, I am not—though I will be soon.”
Her tone dared him to deny it. For the moment he didn’t bother. “Who is your betrothed?”
“I know not. My brother is arranging it. ’Tis where he went.”
“You did not want to do the choosing yourself?” he asked with a degree of surprise.
“It mattered not to me. My brother loves me. He will choose well for a strong alliance. I do not expect to be disappointed.”
“Yet disappointed you will be, for there will be no marriage now, will there?”
“Because you think I will never have my freedom back?” she asked.
“Even should you have it, who would believe you leave here untouched?”
“I am not known to be a liar,” she said stiffly.
There was a shrug in his voice as he answered, “So say most ruined virgins who claim to be otherwise.”
She sat up to glare at him. “And I will wager you have ruined your share.”
“Actually, wench, virgins do not appeal to me in the least. They are tedious in their fears, clumsy in their lack of experience, and hysterical in their pain. Altogether, quite unsatisfying.”
“To know that, you have had your share,” she said, her tone indicating her point had just been proved.
“To know that, I have heard the complaints of many a bridegroom.”
“So you say.”
Who better to spy for a Saxon than a Celt, who would be less suspect if found?
I do not even speak their tongue.
So you say.
Her scoffing remark had caused him to remember those other words, and his helplessness when they had been spoken. She realized it by the sudden change in his expression, from impassive to menacing.
“That is exactly what I say.” Each word came out precisely, coated in ice. “Do you dare to call me a liar—again?”
