Shattered Vows by Carol Townend Page B

voice. ‘You sound as though you’re angry with me.’
    ‘If you say you’re innocent in this, I will try and believe you, however much my instincts warn me otherwise.’ He rubbed his face and let his breath out in a long sigh. ‘I’m not angry with you. And since we are, as you so correctly point out, locked in for the night, I suggest we make the most of it, and get some sleep. They’ll release us in the morning. There’ll be no harm done and you can go home again.’
    ‘Back to Alfwold,’ she mumbled, bending her head so her hair hid her expression.
    ‘Alfwold? Who’s he? I seem to recall you telling me you had no lover.’
    Oliver’s voice was warmer. He sat on the edge of the bed and the mattress shifted. Reaching out, he looped her hair round her ears, seeking to meet her eyes. When she continued staring at her lap, warm fingers took her by the chin and tilted her head up.
    ‘Rosamund, who’s Alfwold?’
    Oliver felt the shudder that passed through Rosamund’s slender frame and checked.
    Did she find his touch repellent? Her eyes had held such innocence on the beach. Her openness had been so refreshing. It seemed to have vanished. ‘Rosamund?’
    Silently, she lifted a hand, holding it in front of him as if she wanted him to take it. As he did so, he squeezed it in reassurance. It was then that he felt the ring. At first he didn’t appreciate its significance and gave it no more than a glance. Then he stilled. There was a thin brass band on her wedding finger, it winked in the flickering light.
    ‘That wasn’t there before,’ he said, carefully.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Who put it there? This Alfwold?’
    ‘Yes. He...he’s my husband.
    ‘Your husband!’ Oliver’s stomach fell away and he dropped her hand. ‘No lover, eh? It seems all the world must play me for a fool. First you on the beach, and now Geoffrey.’
    She made a dismissive movement. ‘Alfwold is not my lover, he never has been. Oliver, I didn’t lie to you. That day we spent together was the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me. But it was a...a...moment out of time. When we parted, I had to walk back to reality, and for me, marriage to Alfwold was reality.’ She touched his arm. ‘Oliver, I didn’t marry him because I wanted to, it wasn’t because I chose him, but because the alternative was far, far worse.’
    ‘Do you love him?’ His voice was cool. Distant.
    ‘I wish I did. Alfwold is a kind man, kinder than my father. I hoped he would care for me. I thought marriage to him would mean I might have some rights at last.’ She stared at the hem of Oliver’s sleeve, it was neatly stitched with gold thread. Gold thread. Her chest heaved and her pent up anger finally found expression in a flood of words. ‘And wasn’t that the greatest folly? To think that I, a mere peasant girl, would have any rights. I’ve only been wed a few hours and already I’ve been carted off to the castle, an unwilling pawn in a game of my lord’s choosing.’ She gripped his gold-edged sleeve. ‘I would have fought your cousin off, tooth and nail. I would have resisted.’
    ‘Poor Rosamund,’ Oliver said, covering her hand with his. ‘You are as much a victim as I in this. Neither of us has been consulted.’
    Rosamund took a steadying breath. ‘No.’ She smiled. ‘You might think I would be used to it, I have never been given a choice.’
    ‘Except the day we met on the beach,’ he said, softly.
    She noticed his chipped tooth, she had forgotten all about it. Their gazes locked and she couldn’t look away. He was so handsome, his presence filled the bedchamber. Oliver’s skin was clear – not black, not pock-marked with dirty scars. The only fault she could find was that broken tooth, and she liked to see it, for it was only visible when he smiled...
    She swallowed, it wouldn’t be easy to be shut in this chamber all night with him...and she married to another...
    He broke the silence. ‘What are you thinking?’
    Her cheeks