She decided to be truthful. “Nay, Royce, ’tis unlikely. My father would not have approved of the men coming here, so they did not tell him. He is a merchant. He thinks his ship sailed to the market towns, for ’twas a trading voyage. He has no way of knowing they sailed here first.”
“Then why did you say what you did?”
She started to smile, but thought better of it. “You should heed your own advice and not take seriously what I say in anger.”
He grunted at that, but he latched on to what she had revealed. “You say the ship was his? Then was it your brother Selig who led the men?”
“I did not tell you he was my brother,” she said suspiciously. “How did you know?”
“Meghan told me. But why would you not want me to know?”
“I thought you would think it unusual if you knew my brother had been with me on the ship, when you thought I was the ship’s whore.”
“I did think it unusual, but I do not know the morals of your people.”
Kristen didn’t know why she should take offense at that, but she did. “We have very similar morals to your own, milord.”
He let her go, but he was still frowning. “Why were you on that ship?”
“Why do you have so many questions about me?” she countered stiffly.
“Is my curiosity so unnatural? Or do you have something more to hide?”
She gave a snort at his reference to the things she had kept from him, for he knew why she had felt forced to deceive him about herself. It was reasonable that he should be curious about her, especially now. But did she want to appease his curiosity? Nay. Why should she? It was not necessary for him to know everything about her, and would only give him an advantage he did not deserve.
But she did not want to appear to be hiding something from him, either. What would he think if he knew that one of the reasons she had sailed with her brother was to find a husband? She had found this man instead, and he would never marry her.
“My reasons for being on the ship are many, but not important,” she said quietly. “The truth is, I sailed without permission, hiding myself in the cargo well until the ship was far from home.”
“You wanted to go pirating?” he asked incredulously.
“Do not be absurd, milord,” she replied with disgust. “I told you no one knew the ship was coming here, least of all myself. My brother was furious when he discovered me. He would have taken me back, except he feared I would tell our father what he and his friends meant to do.”
“You were naturally shocked when you learned they would sack a Saxon church.”
That was pure sarcasm and it infuriated her. “You are Christian, and to you the sacking of a holy place is an abomination. But do not expect men of different beliefs to hold your holy places sacred. These were men who had never raided before, but their fathers had, and they were raised with stories of the wealth that was there for the taking in foreign lands. They knew the Danes coveted your land, that they mean to have all of this island eventually. They felt this was their only chance at easy wealth before the Danes laid claim to it all.”
“If your brother told you all of that, am I to suppose you think that excuses what he planned? Steal from the Christians before the Danes do. The Christians will lose all anyway, so what does it matter who kills and robs them?”
His bitterness stung, for it mirrored her own when she had been told. “My brother would tell me naught of what they planned, because…well, it matters not why. ’Twas Thorolf who told me what I told you, and this only after we were chained in the yard below. I am not defending them. I simply understand their motives.”
“One small thing was not taken into account,” he noted coldly. “We Saxons will not be giving up what is ours to the Danes, or anyone else.”
“Aye, so half of these Vikings found out,” she agreed just as coldly.
“Your brother died through his own design, Kristen.”
“Does that make it easier to bear?” she cried.
“Nay, I suppose not.”
They both fell silent, Kristen because she was having trouble coping with her renewed grief in front of Royce. She would have liked comfort from him, and that surprised her. But she knew he would never give her comfort for the death of someone he despised.
She moved to her side of the bed and sat up. His hand shot out and caught her wrist.
“What are you doing?” he asked, not sharply but more than just curiously.
She glanced down at the fingers that held her, then at him. “I would return to my chamber.”
