Abandonment results in slander
Aldfrith paused, gazing down at the words.
Abandonment.
It was almost as if he had known this was coming. Of course, he must have. He and Cuthburh had been strangers to each other for a while now.
Aldfrith was still looking down at his writing, frowning, when a sharp knock sounded at the door.
He glanced up. “Aye … come in.”
The door opened, and Cerdic stepped across the threshold, his broad muscular frame filling the doorway. “Morning, sire.”
Aldfrith clenched his jaw. Usually, the thegn’s presence did not bother him. However, this morning he wished for solitude. “What is it?” he snapped.
Cerdic’s face, unreadable as always, did not alter at the cool welcome. He merely dipped his head respectfully. “Sorry for intruding, milord, but a messenger has just arrived from Hagustaldes.”
Something in his captain’s voice made Aldfrith pay attention, his ill-temper momentarily forgotten. “What is it?”
“It seems the ealdorman of Hagustaldes, Raedwulf, was gored by a boar while out hunting a few days ago,” Cerdic informed him. “He is dead.”
Chapter Nine
Go in Peace
FOLK ALWAYS SAID that the dead looked as if they were sleeping, but Raedwulf did not.
Osana stood inside the alcove where she had helped prepare her husband’s body for burial and stared down at Raedwulf’s face.
Raedwulf looked grimmer than he had in life, his features still bearing the grimace of agony he had worn in his final moments. His skin was waxy and bloodless, his unruly mane of blond hair combed neatly over his shoulders.
He looked like what he was—dead.
Osana drew in a deep breath and cast a glance across at where her sister-by-marriage, Edlyn, sat at the back of the alcove. The woman was weeping again, her green eyes glistening, her small mouth pursed in grief.
Osana watched Edlyn for a long moment, studying her. The woman’s upset at Raedwulf’s death surprised her. Edlyn was usually so cold and aloof.
Was she in love with Raedwulf?
The thought came, unwanted and unbidden.
Osana’s chest tightened. She had no proof, yet her female instinct stirred. She remembered Edlyn favoring Raedwulf with a coy smile at Yule and dancing with him once during midsummer festivities. But for the rest of the time, she had kept her distance, playing the part of doting and submissive wife to Raedwulf’s younger brother, Deogol.
Osana had no proof, but suddenly she knew with a surety that shocked her.
How long?
Did it matter? Was she even jealous? Jealous no—made a fool of, yes.
Seized by the urge to fly across the annex, grab a fistful of that thick auburn hair, and slam Edlyn’s head against the wall, Osana looked away. Struggling to control herself, she heaved in a deep breath.
It was the last in a long line of insults she had suffered over the years.
Osana was not sure she could bear it.
The wail of a horn reached them then, muffled by the thick wooden walls of the ealdorman’s hall.
Osana straightened her spine and smoothed out the skirts of her long dark gown.
