“You’re Raedwulf’s widow,” Lora continued, her voice quiet yet brimming with indignation, “and this is the best they can give you. I’ve seen bigger storerooms. What about the alcove to the left of Deogol’s?”
“Edlyn has kept that for her sister. She is moving in tomorrow.”
Lora’s face pinched at that. “Aye … of course she is.”
The servant’s protectiveness of her made Osana smile. She had often felt so alone here; she had not realized she had a friend. With a sigh she glanced away, looking over at the trunks stacked in one corner—all her belongings from fourteen years of marriage.
“I’d hoped for a little more space,” she admitted, “although if I’m honest, the farther I am from Deogol and Edlyn the better. I’ll sleep easier in here.”
She turned to find Lora watching her. The outrage had faded from her pretty face and was replaced by pity. Osana stiffened. The last thing she wanted was for Lora to feel sorry for her: the sad widow whose husband had humiliated her, and whom her brother and sister-by-marriage barely suffered.
“I know why Edlyn hates you,” Lora said softly. “I saw her and Raedwulf together once … when I was out blackberrying.”
Osana flinched. Her gut had told her that Edlyn and Raedwulf had been lovers. But Lora had just confirmed it.
Osana’s shoulders sagged. “Maybe I should go.”
“Do you have relatives who would take you in?”
Osana shook her head. Both her parents were dead, and her sisters would not welcome her into their homes—not that there would be space in any of them for her. “I have an aunt in Jedworth,” she said finally. “My mother’s sister … although I haven’t seen her in years.” Osana broke off here, dismissing the idea. “She was always a bit shrewish.”
I could go to Bebbanburg.
The thought came unbidden, and Osana shoved it aside. She was not sure why the king had made such an offer, yet it was not one she could ever take up. Tongues would wag; everyone would think she was his mistress.
Osana felt a blush rise up her neck at the thought.
“Well then,” Lora huffed out a breath and gave Osana a determined look. “We’ll have to make the best of this situation.”
Osana laughed. “We?Don’t trouble yourself, Lora. I’ll survive … I always have.”
Lora grinned back. “I don’t doubt that. I just want you to know you’re not alone here, that’s all. Both of us could do with a friend in this place.”
Osana held her gaze, a rush of gratitude bringing tears to her eyes. She was more starved of kindness than she thought.
“Thank you, she whispered. That means a lot to me.”
Chapter Twelve
The Shamed Widow
“THAT BITCH HIT me. She must go!”
Edlyn’s voice, shrill with rage, echoed through the hall.
“Calm yourself. You’ve the voice of a fishwife when riled.” Deogol’s patronizing rumble followed shortly after.
Inside her alcove, Osana allowed herself a tight smile. It sounded like Edlyn was not getting the sympathy she had hoped for. Reaching up, Osana touched her cheek. It still stung from the vicious slap Edlyn had delivered.
Osana had been helping chop vegetables at one of the worktables, chatting to Lora as she worked, when Edlyn had stalked up to her. She had thrust a pair of badly-mended breeches in her face. Osana had denied being the one to mend them, and Edlyn had struck her.
Osana was not given to violence; she had an even temper, and although she had been tried sorely of late, did not usually respond to Edlyn’s attacks.
Yet until now, they had only been verbal. Edlyn had never struck her before.
Osana’s reaction had been instant, instinctive. She had punched Edlyn in the eye.
“Did you hear me, husband?” Edlyn’s voice rose higher. “That woman, thatnithing,dared strike me.”
