Seeing Thora’s gorgeous plump arse jiggling away was too tempting. He’d wanted nothing more than to sink his cock into her at least one last time. Fortunately, Thora and Martyn had been too absorbed with each other to notice his presence. He slipped out of the room and waited until a servant arrived with their breakfast.
He thought back to what the dragon had read from that parchment. Virgin’s blood of a flame-haired woman.
There may not have been many red-haired virgins around the Northern Marches, but if the dragon had read the words exactly as written, perhaps the prophecy didn’t mean that flame-haired virgin.
In his quest to find a bride for Lord Greymoor, Walter had identified virtually every eligible virgin within a day’s ride of Iron Hill, and there was one in particular that he thought might be helpful.
He’d dismissed her as an appropriate mate for Greymoor because she was too old for him. That seemed to be the story of the poor woman’s life. She was too old for everyone worth having.
She’d been stuck caring for her invalid father in her youth, and by the time the miserable old bastard finally cocked up his toes, her only real options for marriage were widowers. Most of them were many years her senior and those who weren’t only wanted a nursemaid for their children and a warm body to fuck when they were feeling randy.
No, she’d been wise to stay well away from those kinds of disastrous marriages.
If he hadn’t seen the dragon’s remorse for his behaviour towards Freya and her child, he wouldn’t even be considering the idea of bringing another woman into the situation. But to see the creature give up his only blanket and pillow, then sleep naked and uncovered to atone for his actions made Walter feel like it might be worth giving it a chance.
When he really thought about it, Greymoor not believing him about the dragon might actually be a blessing.
There was no doubt in Walter’s mind that there would be bloodshed, and likely deaths if Greymoor led the charge to rescue Freya. And with a child involved, it was better to first try resolving the issue using brains instead of brawn.
Eadlin Swift’s eyes went wide when she opened the door. “I…I…”
He gave her his best reassuring smile. “It’s alright, Eadlin, I’m nothing but a restless spirit looking to do some good in the world.”
She smiled back. “Oh, that’s alright, then. I thought poor Thora was going to end up in trouble for having two husbands.”
“Never fear. All is as it should be with Thora. However, there are others for whom that is not the case, and I think you might be the key. Not just to their happiness, but your own as well.”
“Oh, bollocks. Go play your games with some other poor bugger.”
Why did everyone think he was jesting? He’d never been one to play tricks when he was alive, why would they think he would do so now? “No games, Eadlin, I promise.”
“I don’t know. It seems rather odd, a ghost showing up at my door out of the blue telling me I’m a key to happiness.”
“Yes, definitely odd. But can you please hear me out and try to accept what I have to say as truth?”
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to hear you out. Whose happiness are we talking about besides my own?”
“Before I begin, I need to know that what I tell you goes no further, regardless of whether you decide to help out or not.”
“It’ll go nowhere. I swear on my mother’s grave.” She shot him a cheeky grin, then said, “It’s when I swear on my father’s grave you ought to worry. I think you’d be shocked at the secrets I’ve kept over the years.”
“Good enough. First and foremost, this involves Lord Greymoor.”
“Ha! It won’t be the first secret I’ve kept involving him.”
“Maybe this is a bad idea—”
“Stop right there. I’ve only admitted to already knowing secrets about Greymoor, I’ve still not spilled them.”
Walter still felt a little reluctant to continue, but Eadlin had a valid point and he really had no other options. “Alright. A number of years ago, the woman Greymoor meant to marry disappeared. While he’d never completely given up on finding her, he’d had to scale back his search and attend to his responsibilities here in Iron Hill.”
“So, when are you going to get to the point where you tell me something I don’t already know?”
“I’ve found her.”
“That’s lovely. But I don’t understand how this involves me—you should be having this conversation with Greymoor.”
“And there’s the rub. I tried to have this conversation with him and it didn’t go well. Then, after giving it some thought, I came up with a better way to handle the whole situation. Now, can you let me finish?”