Read Online Shattered Vows by Carol Townend - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carol Townend
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dearest, my comb has broken.’
‘I’ll buy you another, my love,’ Osric said. ‘But you’ll have to wait. The bride fine must be paid.’
Aeffe glowered at Rosamund.
The door banged.
‘About time, here’s Alfwold with the ale.’ Osric reached for a cup. ‘Pass it over, lad.’
Rosamund smiled thankfully at her betrothed – perhaps the novelty of his presence would stop Aeffe needling her. She ladled out his portion and passed it to him.
‘You’d think they were wed already,’ Aeffe said, sneeringly.
Her father grinned. ‘They soon will be, that’s for certain.’
Rosamund bit her lip.
‘Osric, dearest,’ Aeffe sighed. ‘I wish we didn’t have to pay the merchet. Isn’t there any way to avoid it?’
‘Not that I know of. Every man must pay the lord to see his daughter wed. Yours did.’
Aeffe pouted. ‘The pedlar had some lovely combs last time he came, though I admit they were costly. Must we spend everything on seeing her wed?’
‘My love, if I could avoid paying the merchet, I would. But Rosamund must be wed.’
Shaking her head, Aeffe picked up her knife and speared a chunk of fish.
Alfwold cleared his throat. ‘Osric, I want all to be right in my marrying of Rosamund. If it’s any help, I’ll pay the maiden rent. I have enough.’
‘Ooh.’ Aeffe’s face lit up. ‘Will you?’
Osric shifted in his seat. ‘I...I don’t think-’
‘Osric, think,’ Aeffe said, leaning her elbow on the table and pointing with her knife. ‘He’s the one who wants your daughter. Why should you pay to be rid of her?’
Rosamund sat bolt upright on the bench, she’d never felt so humiliated in her life. Every father must pay to see his daughter marry and if Osric tried to wriggle out of it...
Please, Father, please don’t accept.
She stared straight ahead, mouth clamped tight as a clam.
Osric cleared his throat. ‘They’ll be staying here after their marriage, my love. Rosamund won’t be moving away.’
‘Yes, yes, but why should you pay the merchet when Alfwold has offered?’ Aeffe fingered the broken comb. ‘Take it, take Alfwold’s money.’
Rosamund leaned forward. ‘No, Father, please don’t. It’s customary for the bride’s father to pay, not the husband. Will you deny me what little pride I have?’
‘Osric,’ Aeffe said. ‘I warn you...’
Osric grinned at his future son-in-law. ‘Alright. It’s a deal.’
The two men struck hands and Rosamund pushed her bowl aside. She felt sick with shame.
Aeffe chewed her fish. ‘I didn’t think you were so hot for our Rosamund, Alfwold,’ she said, slowly. Her look was knowing, her tone suggestive.
Alfwold’s swarthy skin darkened and he looked guiltily at Rosamund.
‘Aeffe, please!’ Rosamund wanted to curl up with embarrassment, but Aeffe was enjoying herself.
‘Did you know, Alfwold, that yesterday our Rosamund made a garland and went in search of a May Day lover?’
Rosamund’s breath caught. ‘Aeffe, that’s not true. I made a garland because the others were making them. Don’t you remember? Lufu was here with Edwin – we made them together. After they’d gone, I went for a walk. For a walk. I didn’t go to meet anyone.’ And that was the truth. Her meeting with the lord’s squire had been pure chance, even if in her mind’s eye, she could still see slate grey eyes smiling down at her.
‘No?’ Aeffe’s smile was sweet as honey. Except she was being far from sweet, she was deliberately stirring up trouble. Saints, was her stepmother trying to wreck her marriage before it had begun? ‘You chose forget-me-nots,’ Aeffe went on, thoughtfully. ‘Why pick those if you had no lover in mind?’
‘I like forget-me-nots,’ Rosamund said. She was cold with dread at what Aeffe might say next. ‘There was no other reason.’
‘No?’
‘No!’ It was true, she hadn’t gone to the beach to meet anyone. She hadn’t known that Oliver de Warenne was going to be there. She’d never spoken to him
‘I’ll buy you another, my love,’ Osric said. ‘But you’ll have to wait. The bride fine must be paid.’
Aeffe glowered at Rosamund.
The door banged.
‘About time, here’s Alfwold with the ale.’ Osric reached for a cup. ‘Pass it over, lad.’
Rosamund smiled thankfully at her betrothed – perhaps the novelty of his presence would stop Aeffe needling her. She ladled out his portion and passed it to him.
‘You’d think they were wed already,’ Aeffe said, sneeringly.
Her father grinned. ‘They soon will be, that’s for certain.’
Rosamund bit her lip.
‘Osric, dearest,’ Aeffe sighed. ‘I wish we didn’t have to pay the merchet. Isn’t there any way to avoid it?’
‘Not that I know of. Every man must pay the lord to see his daughter wed. Yours did.’
Aeffe pouted. ‘The pedlar had some lovely combs last time he came, though I admit they were costly. Must we spend everything on seeing her wed?’
‘My love, if I could avoid paying the merchet, I would. But Rosamund must be wed.’
Shaking her head, Aeffe picked up her knife and speared a chunk of fish.
Alfwold cleared his throat. ‘Osric, I want all to be right in my marrying of Rosamund. If it’s any help, I’ll pay the maiden rent. I have enough.’
‘Ooh.’ Aeffe’s face lit up. ‘Will you?’
Osric shifted in his seat. ‘I...I don’t think-’
‘Osric, think,’ Aeffe said, leaning her elbow on the table and pointing with her knife. ‘He’s the one who wants your daughter. Why should you pay to be rid of her?’
Rosamund sat bolt upright on the bench, she’d never felt so humiliated in her life. Every father must pay to see his daughter marry and if Osric tried to wriggle out of it...
Please, Father, please don’t accept.
She stared straight ahead, mouth clamped tight as a clam.
Osric cleared his throat. ‘They’ll be staying here after their marriage, my love. Rosamund won’t be moving away.’
‘Yes, yes, but why should you pay the merchet when Alfwold has offered?’ Aeffe fingered the broken comb. ‘Take it, take Alfwold’s money.’
Rosamund leaned forward. ‘No, Father, please don’t. It’s customary for the bride’s father to pay, not the husband. Will you deny me what little pride I have?’
‘Osric,’ Aeffe said. ‘I warn you...’
Osric grinned at his future son-in-law. ‘Alright. It’s a deal.’
The two men struck hands and Rosamund pushed her bowl aside. She felt sick with shame.
Aeffe chewed her fish. ‘I didn’t think you were so hot for our Rosamund, Alfwold,’ she said, slowly. Her look was knowing, her tone suggestive.
Alfwold’s swarthy skin darkened and he looked guiltily at Rosamund.
‘Aeffe, please!’ Rosamund wanted to curl up with embarrassment, but Aeffe was enjoying herself.
‘Did you know, Alfwold, that yesterday our Rosamund made a garland and went in search of a May Day lover?’
Rosamund’s breath caught. ‘Aeffe, that’s not true. I made a garland because the others were making them. Don’t you remember? Lufu was here with Edwin – we made them together. After they’d gone, I went for a walk. For a walk. I didn’t go to meet anyone.’ And that was the truth. Her meeting with the lord’s squire had been pure chance, even if in her mind’s eye, she could still see slate grey eyes smiling down at her.
‘No?’ Aeffe’s smile was sweet as honey. Except she was being far from sweet, she was deliberately stirring up trouble. Saints, was her stepmother trying to wreck her marriage before it had begun? ‘You chose forget-me-nots,’ Aeffe went on, thoughtfully. ‘Why pick those if you had no lover in mind?’
‘I like forget-me-nots,’ Rosamund said. She was cold with dread at what Aeffe might say next. ‘There was no other reason.’
‘No?’
‘No!’ It was true, she hadn’t gone to the beach to meet anyone. She hadn’t known that Oliver de Warenne was going to be there. She’d never spoken to him
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