Edwin’s knife stilled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘She means she’s not going to enlighten our noble friend as to his identity.’
‘You’re mad! Rose would not be so...’ Edwin broke off, studied her face, and his expression changed. ‘Rose? You’re surely not thinking of deceiving a knight?’
She squared her shoulders. ‘And if I am?’
‘You can’t!’ Edwin made a sound of exasperation. ‘Think what they’ll do when they discover the truth...’
Rosamund touched Oliver’s ashen cheek with the back of her fingers. ‘I know it’s wicked of me to be considering this. But if I tell him who he is, he’ll charge back to the castle, marry Lady Cecily, and I...I think it would kill me.’ Especially now. Her heart squeezed as she thought about the subtle changes the blow to the head seemed to have wrought in Oliver’s character. The trusting open-heartedness. The way he didn’t seem to question his feelings for her. If only he could stay this way forever.
‘I’ll not be a party to this!’ Edwin flung the half-carved crook to the floor. ‘Folk have been thrown in prison for less and I’ve a mind to spend my life walking through the heather on the open moor, not rotting in a dungeon.
‘I want you out of here, Rose. This instant. And you can take your precious knight with you.’
‘Edwin, no!’ Lufu jumped to her feet and waved at the bed. ‘Look at them, weak as kittens. It would be murder to throw them out in this state, and you know as well as I that the penalty for murder is worse than prison.’
Edwin narrowed his gaze on his wife and tugged thoughtfully on his beard. ‘I don’t know, you cast me out of my bed in the middle of night, put strange folk in my place, and then you tell me what I cannot do. Wife, you’re a trial to me, a sore trial.’
When Lufu turned to wink at her, Rosamund realised that Edwin would let Lufu have her way. His bark had always been worse than his bite.
‘Rose, rest,’ Lufu said, firmly. ‘And warm your Oliver.’
Edwin reached for his crook and grunted. Rosamund relaxed. The box bed was warm and cosy and she was bone tired. Yawning, she sank into it and wound her arms around Oliver. ‘Where will you sleep?’
Lufu chuckled. ‘Don’t you worry about that, my lass. We’ll be fine by the fire.’
‘We will, will we?’ Edwin said, but his voice remained calm, the anger had gone.
‘We’ll decide what to do in the morning,’ Lufu said. ‘Sleep well.’
‘Good night and my thanks,’ Rosamund mumbled. Her lips were pressed against Oliver’s torso and her eyelids were drooping. ‘We’ll talk in the morning.’
Chapter Eight
Edwin left the hut at daybreak with the small mongrel. He’d been muttering about his flock. That had been hours ago. Lufu had lent Rosamund a gown, and Rosamund was sitting cross-legged on the floor close to the box-bed whilst she mended hers. Oliver hadn’t moved – he was as still and as grey as a stone. The girls were arguing.
‘Lufu, no!’ Rosamund said. ‘I’d rather live in sin with Oliver than spend the rest of my life tied to Alfwold.’ She stabbed the needle through the pink cloth. The fabric was fraying, the edges of the tear needed to be over-stitched before it could be repaired.
‘Anyone would think it was you who’d been struck on the head,’ Lufu said. ‘Do show some sense. You can’t hope to hide a knight. What will you do, lock him up?’
‘Of course I won’t lock him up!’
Lufu gave her a straight look. ‘In that case, someone’s bound to recognise him, and then where will you be? You’re not thinking straight. Rosamund, you must tell him everything.’
Rosamund held down a sigh. She knew Lufu was angry, she only ever called her by her full name when she was angry. She set her jaw. ‘Lufu, I won’t deceive him for long. I will tell him everything, I swear.’
‘When? Tomorrow? Next week? When?’
‘When he starts to remember. I won’t stop him returning to the castle.’
‘You’re a fool.’
Rosamund tossed her head and her unbound hair rippled down her shoulders. ‘It will be worth it.’
The only time I am truly myself is when I am with Oliver. Oliver sees just me; no-one else has really seen me. To Father I’m a means of him keeping his place at the mill, even in old age; Aeffe sees me as a servant; and I’m beginning to suspect that Alfwold sees me as way of putting a roof over his head. But Oliver...
‘Worth it?’ Lufu’s eyes bulged. ‘The man’s a knight! Since when has it been worth risking your neck for a few days of bliss? No man is worth such a price.’