Lord of Fire,Lady of Ice(71)

Della looked at the ring Brant had given her. The brass gleamed in the evening sunlight, as did the polished amber. It was not so bad being married to Brant, not like she’d first imagined. Sure, he was stubborn and hardheaded and he made her angry more often than not. But he could be so sweet to her, too. Like when he held her in his arms and made her body tremble. He was kind. In fact, he had done nothing to prove he deserved her condemnation.

Aside from the misunderstanding with Lord Lester when he’d flung her to the floor, he didn’t beat her when she was insolent, which was often encouraged of a husband. Della shuddered as she thought of the insane notions of the Anglo-Saxon priests. They thought you had to beat a wife to keep her in line. Did they not realize that you could do so more effectively with kindness and a gentle touch? Did they not realize that most women only wanted to be listened to, respected, and protected?

Della held up her hand and studied the polished amber more closely. She remembered how odd a choice the ring was for a wedding band. Slipping the thin metal off her finger for the first time, she held it up to the light and smiled as the sun glinted through the perfect oval of brownish amber. The jewel was held into place with delicate brass tongs. The fine craftsmanship was quite old if the smoothed brass was any indication.

Seeing a smudge of black dirt on the inner band, she took her thumbnail and absently scraped at it. Her nail snagged against the metal and she lifted the ring closer to study the dirt. It wasn’t dirt at all but a tiny engraving. Della had never seen such tiny carvings before. She examined it closer, turning it in the sunlight.

My love was etched in Latin. Della gasped in surprise as she read the words. Had Brant engraved the ring especially for her? Her heart beat erratically at the thought and her lungs filled with pants of air. Had he loved her from the first moment? Tears came to her eyes and she closed them to the unsure pleasure that welled in her chest. She hadn’t really thought of there being actual love between them. She’d never dreamed she would want such a thing to happen. Could he truly love her? She knew they would be compatible if she tried harder, and she was growing very fond of him.

But love? Did she love him? Could what she felt when he’d held her be considered anything but?

The answer rushed over her in a sweep of emotion. Yea, I do love him. I love my husband. I love Brant. Oh, how did it happen? I don’t care. I love him and he loves me and the past no longer matters.

Della opened her tear-stung eyes, awed at the sweet emotion pouring from her. She’d never thought she was meant for love, never dared to dream she would find it. None of the rest mattered. Not that he was a Viking. Not that her mother’s death had been at a Viking’s hand. It wasn’t of Brant’s doing. She wanted to tell him how wrong she’d been. She lifted the ring to make sure the words were real, that she’d really seen them.

My love she read again, overflowing with joy. Then, as she turned the ring in the sunlight, she saw there was more. Leaning closer, love surging from her heart, she read the rest. My love, My Lynnea.

Della gasped and dropped the ring to the ground as if it suddenly caught fire. She stared in disbelief at the metal, as if it were a poisonous serpent. The ring hadn’t been meant for her at all. Her husband insulted her by putting the ring meant for another woman on her hand. A woman named Lynnea. Bitter anger and betrayal overtook her and she gasped for breath through the pain in her chest. The anguish of the moment choked her and she knew if she didn’t die in the pain of this moment, she surely never would.





* * * * *


“Sir Stuart is a slimy character.” Gunther glared to where the man had disappeared out of the main hall door. “I wouldn’t trust him about the manor unescorted.”

“Lord Strathfeld thought as much,” Roldan interjected. “E’en as a child, that one gave me chills. He used to drown small animals in the moat fer pleasure when he thought no one watched. We ne’er told Lady Blackwell of it though. It would’ve crushed her.”

“Yea.” Brant thoughtfully scratched his whiskers. He didn’t see what his wife found so appealing about the man. It was obvious Stuart spoke with a forked tongue. “Have some of the men watch him, but be subtle. I don’t want him alone with my wife. We don’t know what he is about, but it cannot be good.”

“I’ll warrant it’s this keep he’s after.” Gunther frowned.

Brant stood. Gunther and Roldan moved with him, following him to the bailey yard. When they reached the door, Stuart had already disappeared.

“Find him,” Brant ordered quietly.