LITMIR.BIZ

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of the undergown. Tuck, pin. Tuck, pin. Tuck, pin. ‘Mmm?’

      ‘Could…?’ Cecily twisted her hands together. ‘Could you please explain to me what happens, exactly?’

      Gudrun rocked back on her heels and turned startled eyes up at her. Removing the pins from her mouth, she stuck them back in the pincushion. ‘What happens, child? But surely you know?’

      Cecily’s face was burning. ‘I know what…what animals do, of course. I’ve seen dogs and…and horses—but what about people? It can’t be like that with people. Is it?’

      Gudrun rose, took Cecily by the hand and sat down on the bed. ‘I don’t expect this was a subject ever touched upon by Mother Aethelflaeda?’

      ‘No—not unless you count the time that Novice Ingrid joined us. There was much talk then of sin. Mother Aethelflaeda read out a passage from the Bible and interpreted it for us. She said that women gave birth in pain to pay for the sins they had committed when conceiving their children. She talked constantly about carnal love and the sins of the flesh.’

      ‘You poor love—you are afraid,’ Gudrun said gently.

      ‘Afraid? No. I don’t think Sir Adam would hurt me. At least…I…I hope not. But does…does it hurt, Gudrun?’

      Gudrun patted her hand. ‘With some women it does the first time, maybe even the first few times, but not always. Wilf didn’t hurt me.’ She sighed. ‘Don’t fret, dear. Sir Adam wants your marriage to succeed.’

      ‘Does he? How can you know that? I’m just one of the means by which he legitimises his claim to my father’s lands.’

      Gudrun nodded. ‘There is something in what you say, I’m sure. But that’s not the full story. He likes you, dear. I’ve seen the way he is with you. Already you’re more to him than that. And given time…’

      ‘He was married before,’ Cecily blurted out. ‘I think he loved his wife.’

      ‘Did he, dear? That’s good.’

      Cecily wrinkled her brow. ‘How so?’

      Gudrun’s eyes danced. ‘If he loved her, she’ll have taught him how to pleasure a woman.’

      Pleasure? The carnal pleasure that Mother Aethelflaeda insisted was a sin? It sounded interesting, but…

      Cecily had opened her mouth to ask Gudrun for chapter and verse on the nature of this pleasure when someone knocked briefly on the door of the bedchamber. Before she had time to answer, the door opened and Edmund stepped swiftly into the room, cracking a crutch on the doorpost.

      Flushing, Cecily snatched up the garnet damask and held it in front of her chest.

      ‘Edmund, for shame!’ Gudrun jumped to her feet, attempting to shield Cecily from him. ‘You should not be in here!’

      But Edmund had neither eyes nor ears for Gudrun. With a dexterity that was astonishing in a man on crutches, he sidestepped her and towered over Cecily. He was out of breath, doubtless owing to his exertions in climbing the loft ladder with a bad leg.

      ‘Delay this wedding,’ he said. His eyes were hard as flints, and there was a tightness about his lips and jaw.

      Cecily resisted the urge to shrink into the bed. ‘Delay? I cannot.’

      ‘You must.’ Moving closer, Edmund rested his weight on one crutch, reached down and dragged her to her feet. ‘You must!’

      ‘No, Edmund,’ Cecily said, squaring her shoulders. ‘It’s not up to me. Ask Father Aelfric. Today’s the last day for wedding before Advent begins. If we don’t wed now, we’d have to wait until—’

      ‘If you delay even a day you may not need to marry him,’ Edmund said baldly.

      Cecily skin crawled. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I’ve seen Judhael,’ Edmund went on, his voice low. ‘Steps are being taken. If you can wait but a day, maybe two…’ he brought his nose to within an inch of hers ‘…you won’t need to marry a Norman with Saxon blood on his hands.’

      ‘Adam is Breton, and the marriage is fixed. I’ve told you before, Edmund, you are fighting a lost cause.’ Aware her voice had risen, Cecily moderated it and spoke rapidly. ‘For heaven’s sake, get a grip. I know you grieve for the past—we all do—but you must accept reality. Life has changed. I don’t know what you’re planning, but it can only lead to more deaths, more injuries. Think about the consequences for others before you do anything rash.’

      Edmund’s expression hardened, and he yanked the garnet damask out of Cecily’s hands, revealing the low-cut silk undergown. He looked her up and down. ‘You whore…’

      ‘Edmund!’ Gudrun said, tight-lipped. ‘That’s more than enough. I think you should leave.’

      ‘I’m going, rest assured,’ Edmund said. He tossed the gown back at Cecily and, swinging round on his crutches, lurched to the door. ‘And when I’ve gone you may have cause to regret it. I repeat—marry Adam Wymark this afternoon and you will live to regret that you refused my advice.’ Unexpectedly, his face softened. ‘But, since you’re Cenwulf’s baby sister, I’ll offer it one last time. Put this marriage off. Delay it, even for a day, and you won’t regret it.’

      ‘What are you going to do? Edmund…?’

      But Cecily spoke to a closed door, for as swiftly as he had entered, Edmund was gone. His crutches tapped along the landing to the stairs, and she was disinclined to follow him into a public area in a cream undergown.

      ‘Sir Adam?’

      Adam tossed the axe with the broken handle onto the armoury bench and looked up. ‘Maurice?’

      ‘I thought you should know, sir, that housecarl, Edmund…’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘He has just paid Lady Cecily a visit up in the loft room, and I do not think she was examining his leg.’

      A sinking sensation made itself felt in Adam’s stomach. ‘Edmund had private counsel with her?’

      The kiss Cecily had given Edmund on her arrival jumped into his brain. He tucked his thumbs in his belt and called it to mind in more detail. Cecily had leaned forwards, cutting Edmund’s words off mid-sentence. It had been a brief kiss. He would wager it had startled the housecarl as much as it had irritated Adam. He sighed. It might not have been a lover’s kiss, but it had roused other suspicions…

      ‘No, sir, not precisely private. Gudrun was with her—I made out something about dress fittings, but my English…’ Maurice gave a regretful shrug.

      The gable end of the hall was visible through the armoury door. From this angle Adam could see the window slit that was high above the bed. The bed that tonight he was going to share with her. He chewed on his thumbnail. ‘Hell—hell and damnation.’

      Maurice drew back. ‘My apologies, sir, but you did say you wanted to know if I noticed anything untoward.’

      Adam clapped his squire on the shoulder. ‘Yes, Maurice, you were right to tell me.’ He stepped outside. ‘I knew a confrontation between Lady Cecily and myself was inevitable. It was just that I had hoped it might keep until after our wedding.’

      And why was that? a voice asked. Surely you did not think you, Duke William’s man, could win over the loyalty of a thane’s daughter with your prowess between the sheets? No, Adam thought bleakly, as he strode across the yard, that was not what he had thought. But he would have felt happier delaying the confrontation until after the bedding, because there was more chance she would come to him willingly if they were amicable. He did not want to force her. Dear God, all he had wanted was the chance to try and teach Cecily to find some pleasure in his body, so that their marriage might not be completely doomed. They had problems that might divide the most loving of couples, but her response when they kissed

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