Chapter 16 #3
“No, which only comforted me in the idea that she was used to bedding the men she desired.” He shrugged.
“I never thought I would see her again, but a few days later she came to see me, utterly panicked. She was worried our encounter might have made her with child, and feared her father’s reaction when he found out.
Not to mention that of her future husband’s, a violent man who’d been promised she was still untouched.
I could not let her face this alone, so I did the only thing I thought I could do.
I offered for her hand. I know I was young, only twenty summers at the time, but… ”
“But?”
Cwenthryth was now more curious than ever.
Twenty was indeed young to think about settling down, especially with a woman who was little more than a stranger.
More than one man she knew who would have ignored her plight, or at least waited until he was certain she was with child before committing to her.
“But I had the example of my parents, which gave me hope. They met in very unusual circumstances and yet they found love in their marriage, a love I envied from a young age. I thought, why could it not happen to me as well? Astrid had attracted me from the start. We had slept together, had found pleasure in each other’s arms, and she needed me.
There were worse starts to a marriage. It turned out that I should have been more cautious, because it wasn’t long before I saw that we weren’t compatible in the least. When her real, selfish nature was revealed, it was too late.
We were already married and she was carrying my child.
Ulf. I could not have abandoned her then. ”
Cwenthryth nodded, as she reassessed their first few days together in the light of what she’d just been told.
She had burst into Steinar’s life at the worst possible moment, demanding the same thing his late wife had demanded of him, help and protection from a man he didn’t know.
Except that, unlike Astrid, she’d had no previous acquaintance to draw from.
No wonder Steinar would not have wanted to get involved with yet another woman who had come in search of a protector, at the risk of seeing her turn into someone else once she felt safe and had gotten what she wanted out of him.
As he’d said, he’d had his children to consider.
“I’m sorry, it was—”
“No. I’m the one who is sorry. I should not have let what had happened with someone else influence what happened between us.”
A stunned silence followed that declaration.
Was this truly the man who had once shouted at her to get the hell out of his house?
The one who had glared at her while accusing her of using his sons to get to him?
Who had told her he knew she was lying about fleeing a man?
The change was incredible. He was honest with her, exposing his darkest thoughts and doubts to her.
Cwenthryth took in a deep inhale. There was something she had wondered about for days, or more pointedly something that had worried her for days. Dare she mention it now? Yes.
Since they were being open with one another, there would be no better opportunity.
“Steinar, did you…”
She hesitated, poised on a very personal, very painful question.
What if she was wrong? Even worse, what if she was right?
Would he want to talk about it or would he send her to hell?
For once she wouldn’t blame him if he did.
What he had told her the day she had helped Inga give birth came back to her.
I’ve always wanted a little girl. I often wonder if…
If the baby he’d lost before he had Rothgar had been a little girl. She thought that was what he’d meant and she needed to know for certain. Confusedly, she sensed it would bring them even closer to have gone through the same ordeal.
“Did I what?” he asked, when it became clear she might not find the courage to speak. “You can ask me anything.”
“Did you lose a child too?”
There it was, plain as day.
Steinar stared at her a long moment, as if wondering whether to answer her. Perhaps he was wary of reawakening the pain of the loss, or perhaps he didn’t wish to remind her of what she had gone through herself.
“Yes, I did. We did, twelve years ago. A girl or boy, we never found out, as it was too early to tell.” The look in his eyes became distant, as if he was reliving the terrible moment he had been handed what could have been his baby.
“Astrid fell with child quickly after Ulf’s birth, perhaps too quickly, which might be the reason for the loss.
I know not, nobody could explain to us what had happened.
We were only told that it sometimes happened when there was a problem with the child, a problem which stopped it from developing normally. ”
Cwenthryth nodded. She’d heard the same thing, which had made her wonder if Godfrid had not been related to her after all. Her loss might have been nature’s way of ensuring such pairings didn’t produce any offspring. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” It was his turn to nod, the gesture betraying the pain of a loss that might never fully heal. “After that, Astrid told me she didn’t want to fall with child too quickly, and I agreed. I didn’t want to have to go through that ever again.”
Of course. They would have been understandably wary.
She had on occasion wondered at the six-year difference between the two boys.
Such a big gap was rather uncommon, unless the couple had consciously decided to avoid having another babe to preserve the woman’s health, like Moon had done with Eyja, making her take herbs to prevent conception after a traumatic birth.
But if Steinar and Astrid had lost a child after Ulf and then been careful not to have another one too soon, then the gap made sense.
His eyes still glazed, Steinar carried on with his explanation.
“For years we were careful. I withdrew whenever we made love. But of course, the method is not always reliable and she fell with child again—Rothgar. The last few months and the birth were very hard on Astrid, like they had been with Ulf. It was years before she allowed me to touch her again. And even then, I could never make love to her like I wanted. It was all a bit of a mess, really, and unsurprisingly, the physical distance between us took a toll on our already strained marriage. Had she not died, we would likely be separated now.”
Yes, they would. Cwenthryth should know—she was the one who had revealed his wife’s plans to leave him, presumably to be with her lover. “Yes. She would have gone to Aldred.”
Steinar shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.
I know you told me she was planning to leave, but I had already made up my mind to ask for a divorce before the end of the summer.
So you see, it was only a question of time before we went our separate ways.
It would have been hard on the boys, which was the only thing preventing me from acting sooner.
But I would have, because we were too miserable.
In the end, though, I didn’t have to do anything.
” His blue eyes settled back on her. “I haven’t told anyone else about my intentions. Not even my parents know.”
“I’m touched.”
Touched that he should trust her with his story, moved and appalled by what she’d heard. She also felt guilty, because when she’d confided in him, she’d not known about the loss of his child.
“Oh, what must you think of me…” When she had told him about her own miscarriage, she had said that she was glad she didn’t have to give birth to a child she didn’t want. How terrible for a man who had lost a baby he did want to hear something like that. “I told you—I said…”
“What did you say, Cwenthryth?” he asked when she could not finish. Clearly he had no idea what she was referring to.
“You were heartbroken when you lost your poor baby, and I told you the other day that I’d been relieved not to have to give birth to mine. It’s terrible. I’m sorry.”
She hid her face in her hands, too ashamed to look at him.
Steinar gently prised her hands apart and waited until she found the strength to look at him. When she finally did, she saw no ire, no censure in his gaze, only compassion.
“Hush. You have nothing to be sorry for. You said those things because they were the truth. And I would have felt the same in your place. That poor babe had been forced on you, mine had not. That changes everything, and you know it.”
With those words, he placed a kiss on her lips.
It was nothing like the kiss they had shared only moments ago, before Sven had interrupted them.
That one had been full of passion, hot as the summer sun, it had scorched her insides.
This one was full of tenderness, soft as a spring breeze. It brought life back into her soul.
Steinar drew back and took her by the hand.
“Come. Let’s go and see my father.”
“The reeve cannot help us.”
Steinar growled. “Cannot or will not, because I’m a Norseman?”
“Cannot. He’s not a bad man, but whoever wrote the note made sure it could not be traced back to him.
The message accusing you was delivered by a child barely able to talk.
There’s nothing to be gained from the poor boy, who had no idea why he was being questioned.
But don’t worry, we will get to the bottom of this,” Wolf said with a certainty Cwenthryth couldn’t help but admire.
In that moment it was hard to doubt the formidable man would get his way.
By his side, his wife seemed equally determined.
Cwenthryth instantly saw what Steinar had meant when he’d said his parents were made for one another.
The love, the respect, the connection between the Icelander and his Saxon wife were obvious in every glance they exchanged, in every breath they took.
With such an example while growing up, it was no wonder their son had wanted to believe that marriage could bring happiness.