‘You have it aright,’ Edwin said, nodding. ‘Abbot William was clear – there’s no priest named Eadric. The abbot told me he knew of a priest named Eadmer whom he thought would get the appointment, but no Eadric.’
‘Eadric, Eadmer,’ Rosamund murmured. ‘The names are very like.’
Alfwold came closer. ‘The document was in Eadmer’s name. When I met Eadric he was waving it about as though it was the key to St. Peter’s gate, and my unlettered eyes saw the name Eadric. I have no learning, and Eadmer and Eadric are scripted almost the same. They’re easy to confuse.’ A broad, blackened hand reached for her. ‘Rose...?’
Rosamund was staring at Oliver and didn’t hear him. Her heart thudded. I’m not married. I’m free. She felt giddy with relief. Stooping over, she stroked that wayward lock of hair from Oliver’s forehead. Her lips curved.
‘Rose?’ Lufu tapped her on the shoulder.
‘Mmm?’
‘Don’t even think it,’ Lufu said.
Rosamund turned innocent eyes on her friend. ‘Think what?’
‘You know what I’m talking about,’ Lufu said, quietly. ‘I can see it in your face. You’re free, and you’re changing your mind about telling him who he is.’ Lufu shook her head. ‘You’re hoping that if he believes himself your equal, he will offer you marriage.’
Rosamund put a hand on her heart. ‘Lufu, I swear no such thought entered my mind – but now that you mention it, I confess the idea has appeal. He might offer for me.’
‘Where are your wits?’ Lufu made a sound of exasperation. ‘He’s a knight. You’re worlds apart.’
Tears stung at the back of Rosamund’s eyes.
Lufu jabbed a work-worn finger at Oliver. ‘This man – this knight – isn’t for you. Lord, it’s bad enough that you were considering keeping his identity from him, but to be thinking about marrying him – why, that’s twenty times worse! What about Lady Cecily? He’s promised to wed her. What you’re thinking about is probably a hanging offence – you can’t deceive a knight into marriage and hope to get away with it!’
Rosamund’s throat closed. ‘He might have learned to love me by the time he finds out.’
Lufu watched her, shaking her head.
‘Lufu, he might. And if he does, he’ll forgive me.’ She gripped Lufu’s sleeve. ‘I shall make him love me.’
‘Lord, the girl’s wits have cracked,’ Edwin said. He glanced at Alfwold who was staring at a hole in his boots and continued. ‘Knights are bred to fight. They love power and position. Riches. They don’t love simple peasant lasses, even if they like them in their beds.’ He raised his voice. ‘You warm his bed, girl, that’s all. Do you hear me?’
She gave him a sad smile. ‘I should think they’d hear you down at the quayside.’
‘Aye, well, you make me mad, Rose,’ Edwin said. ‘You can’t deceive him.’
Alfwold looked up. ‘No, she can’t,’ he said. ‘It would be best if she married me, in truth. That would put a stop to all this nonsense. Rose, you put more than your own life in jeopardy with this foolish fancy of yours. You must wed me and forget this knight.’
‘Forget him?’ I can’t!
The bed creaked as Oliver rolled onto his side. There was an appalled silence. Edwin was gaping, ludicrous in his dismay. Lufu went white and even Alfwold was pale beneath his stained skin. Rosamund was tempted to laugh. Except it wasn’t funny – if Oliver was awake, he would have heard everything.
‘His eyes are shut,’ she whispered. ‘His breathing’s regular.’
‘No, no, he’s awake! He’s listening,’ Lufu muttered.
‘Lufu, he sleeps.’
Alfwold caught her arm and drew her to the doorway. ‘Rose, you must marry me,’ he said, glancing uneasily at the bed.
‘No.’
‘I’ll not ask anything of you. Give up this folly, marry me. I’ll clean myself up. I won’t touch another drop of ale. A man gets to need some comfort when he’s alone in the world, and with you as my wife we’ll both of us be safe at the mill. Rose?’
‘I won’t marry you.’
Rosamund found herself looking at Alfwold’s pock-marked face with new eyes. His mention of the mill struck an odd note. All the world knew that he tramped the highways, travelling from mill to mill to ply his trade. Was he attracted to her personally, or was his attraction solely due to the fact that she was Osric’s only child, and marrying her would be a way to secure a roof over his head? She had thought he loved her a little, but perhaps she’d been wrong. Alfwold was getting older, it could be that he wanted her purely for the security she could bring him. He had mentioned something of this before but she hadn’t heard him. Back then, she’d wanted his love. Had she wanted to be loved so badly that she’d imagined him to be in love with her?