Lord Strathfeld scowled as he pushed his way into her bedchamber. He didn’t answer her outburst. Brant followed the ealdorman inside. Della fumed, watching them in disbelief. Her mouth fell open as her father halfheartedly searched the bedchamber, as if looking for someone.
“What is the meaning of this deception?” Her virtue had never been in question as far as her father was concerned. Not even after he spent months away from the keep, leaving her to manage the household alone.
“Della,” Lord Strathfeld’s voice was strained. He refused to meet her eyes. “It is whispered that you are with child.”
Blessed Saints! Blackwell thinks I carry Stuart’s bastard. Is he so dimwitted to not understand a scheme when he hears one?
“I…” Her words trailed off. She glared accusingly at Lord Blackwell who stood with his arms crossed blocking the door. Not taking her eyes off him, she answered, “I am not.”
So you thought to fill my father’s head with nonsense today while you were out. Della gritted her teeth. She should have insisted on going with them.
“Tell the truth now and you will be spared the brunt of my wrath, tell me false and you will be punished.” Lord Strathfeld shook and she knew he was holding back his anger. “It’s a very serious matter, Della, so I will ask again. Do you carry a child?”
His words washed over her to form a pair of cold clamps over her heart.
“Nay!” She ignored Brant and turned to her father, grabbing his arm. “Nay, father. You know I don’t lie. I’m not with child.”
“I know for a fact that your honesty is undeniably in question,” Brant said from behind her.
“Father, I do admit to telling one falsehood. I told Lord Blackwell that I carried Stuart’s babe.” She heard Brant’s angry breathing and imagined his eyes piercing like daggers into the back of her skull. He shut the door, keeping her words from reaching the gossiping servants. Della didn’t care who heard her. She was desperate. “It was foolish of me to do so, but you have to believe I did what methought I had to do for the sake of my future happiness. Nay, for the sake of my future sanity. I would that you reconsider your choice in husband for me. Why not let me marry Stuart? He is blood. He is the rightful heir to your title. King Guthrum has no reason to question our loyalty.”
Having stated her argument, she dropped her hand from his arm. She didn’t need to turn around to feel the fierce sting of Brant’s presence smoldering her with his anger, as she purposefully continued to ignore him. The Viking king did have reason to question her loyalty to them as a race, but not that of Strathfeld’s people or her father’s, or Stuart’s for that matter.
“It’s a grave thing you have said, my daughter,” the ealdorman stated when the couple refused to speak to each other. He looked at Brant and then at his daughter before sadly shaking his head. Walking to the bed, he sat.
For the first time, Della noticed how tired her father looked. He appeared old and battle-worn. His taut skin was drawn and gray against his once-virile face. It was as if he’d been ailing for some time and she’d just now noticed. Chewing on her bottom lip, she fought the sudden onslaught of tears as she realized how fragile her father had become. She’d been too self-absorbed in her own troubles with Lord Blackwell to notice.
Lord Strathfeld cleared his throat, appearing uncomfortable under his daughter’s scrutiny. “And it’s a grave thing to go against the wishes of your sire, but soon you will no longer have to answer to me. You will answer to your husband and I will gladly relinquish the control to him, for you are a willful child, Della. You always have been.”
“Father, please—”
Lord Strathfeld held up his hand and shook his head. “Nay, daughter. This is something you need to hear. Your cousin is not an honorable man. Why you so foolishly throw him your affections is beyond my understanding. I have warned Lord Blackwell of Stuart’s designs and he is willing to honor my wishes in that your cousin will not set a foot inside this keep while I still live. It will be up to your husband if you are to ever talk to or accept Stuart as a guest after I am gone.”
Della looked at her father in astonishment. He never before had cause to attack her character or that of her cousin. It had to be the barbarian’s influence.
“Mayhap your willful ways are of my doing. You were not raised with the gentle hand of a mother. Mayhap I should have remarried for you to have an example to live by, but that is all in the past. It is too late to change.” The ealdorman turned somberly to Brant. “Perchance you will remember that in the future when she acts out of hand. For it is not all her fault.”