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‘You appear to have recovered.’ Brand frowned. Something was very wrong. Edith appeared more uncomfortable than ever as the woman paled.
‘It is...is my daughter, your lordship. I haven’t dared to leave her.’ The woman toyed with her apron, not quite meeting his eyes.
Brand’s gaze narrowed. Whatever was going on, Edith knew about it. Had she kept it from him, hoping not to embarrass the woman? He could understand why she might be apprehensive as a warrior’s training was far from easy, but the boy deserved a better fate than being a farm labourer.
‘I sent word that I wished to speak with you.’
‘I apologise.’ The woman refused to meet his eye. ‘I know the great honour you wish to do my son, but my daughter occupies all my attention. I wanted to honour you with my full attention.’
‘Is there no one who could have looked after your daughter? I understood people around here looked after each other.’
‘Mary is most particular about who looks after her daughter,’ Edith said, stepping between him and the woman. ‘It was an unintentional slight. I told you, Mary, that Lord Bjornson was most determined to give Godwin this honour. You would be wise to think about it.’
‘I...I...’ The woman went beet-red and started stammering. ‘I’ve no idea what to say. Your coming is most unexpected. We’re far from ready.’
‘Come, come, what is the problem?’ Brand moved towards the door. ‘I want to advance the boy, not eat him for dinner!’
‘Mary! Has Lady Edith arrived yet?’ a man’s voice boomed from the cottage. ‘I need to see her. There are things we must discuss before...before I leave this place.’
Brand reached for his sword. ‘Who is this man?’ he shouted. Instinctively he looked for ways to escape.
The guilty pair regarded each other and Brand knew without a doubt that Edith had been a party to the deception. A great hollow opened up inside him. She had betrayed him and he’d been prepared to trust her with his life.
Chapter Thirteen
Everything slowed down. Edith heard a great rushing noise in her ears and saw Brand’s terrible expression as he gripped his sword. He knew. The absolute worst thing in the world had happened. He knew what she had done and he would never forgive her for it. He would also exact the punishment Halfdan decreed from Athelstan. Blood would be spilt today. Rather than saving Athelstan, she’d ensured his death.
All the happiness she’d experienced over the past week was never going to be repeated. They were enemies once again. She could see it from the way he regarded her. They were enemies and she knew she loved him. She had to hope that he’d listen before he acted and that he would understand.
‘Put away the sword, Brand. Allow me to explain,’ she said into that terrible stillness.
‘Who is there?’ he thundered, gesturing with his sword and his face growing darker with every breath he took. ‘What man resides in that cottage? What sort of trap have you led me into, Edith? Quick about it before the carnage starts. Tell me the truth and you might be spared.’
Mary gave a muffled shriek and a single tear ran down Godwin’s face. Silently Edith prayed for a miracle. Then she took another breath and knew there would be no miracle. There was only her to stop a boy being for ever scarred.
‘Godwin’s father,’ Edith answered as steadily as she could.
‘The rebel.’
Her heart shattered. He had already made up his mind about Athelstan’s guilt.
‘This is no trap, Brand.’ Edith made her voice gentle and held out a coaxing hand. ‘You’re safe here. Put away the sword. Listen. You were never supposed to find out. He is a ghost who will melt away.’
The sword stayed in his hand, but he made no move towards the cottage. Silently Edith prayed that Athelstan would stay put as well. Somehow she had to diffuse the situation before it led to bloodshed. Even if he was uninjured, Athelstan would never be able to match Brand.
‘Will you listen for once? Listen and find it in your heart to forgive?’ she pleaded.
He stood as if carved from stone. ‘I am listening but all I hear is the sound of the breeze in the trees. You have not told me anything, Edith. Start explaining now!’
‘Godwin’s father is in there. He has come home. He means you no harm.’ Silently she prayed the last was true. Although she’d told Athelstan and Mary the tale as Brand had related it, she wasn’t entirely sure how much they had believed. Athelstan still repeated his tale, insisting it was Brand who had broken the truce before Egbert.
