Page 19 of Ensnaring the Dove
And now she’d likely vexed Aedan too.
“You don’t have to answer that,” she murmured after a brief pause. “I know I’m too curious.”
“You are.”
“My father used to despair of my boldness … he told me it was ‘unfeminine’ to ask so many questions.”
“And what of your betrothed?”
Colombia tensed, casting her mind back to the few interactions she’d shared with Linus before his posting. In truth, she’d been on her best behavior. “I’ve always been demure around him,” she admitted.
Aedan barked a laugh. “Demure?”
“Yes,” Colombia replied, indignant now. “He’s so handsome that I was in awe of him … and a little tongue-tied.”
Aedan’s eyes glinted, although his mouth twitched as if he wished to say something else yet was trying to stop himself. “You certainly have no such reticence around me,” he murmured. “I must have a face like a horse’s arse.”
Colombia snorted, even as her cheeks warmed at his crudeness. “No, you don’t,” she muttered. “You just don’t intimidate me, that’s all.”
And it was true—he didn’t. Yes, he angered her at times, yet, oddly, she felt safe with this man.
Aedan’s blue eyes narrowed a little, his expression turning thoughtful. Silence fell between them once more while they approached the bottom of the hill, where a small stream meandered its way through a scattering of rocks.
They’d almost reached the watercourse when Aedan released a deep sigh. “To answer your question … no, there isn’t bad blood between Deaglan and me. It was just difficult to stomach seeing my brother sitting in the chair that should have beenmine, wed to the woman I’d once loved … and her belly swollen with his child.” He huffed a humorless laugh then. “Of course, deep down, IknewI wouldn’t get a warm welcome … but I went back anyway.”
IX. THE MAGPIE
“THAT’S A PRETTY belt.” The elderly woman squinted at Colombia, her shrewd gaze raking over her. “If I can have it … and the clothes she’s wearing, I’ll give you shelter for the night, supper … and food to take with you.”
“That’s not enough,” Aedan replied. “Colombia can’t walk around naked. She’ll need to be clothed … a tunic, shawl, and foot coverings will be sufficient.”
The woman pulled a face, casting him an irritated look. “Do I look wealthy to you?” she griped.
No, she didn’t. However, the crone who lived on the edge of Achwig, the village they’d reached as dusk settled, was the only local who’d been prepared to take them in overnight.
Aedan wasn’t the problem, but the villagers had taken one look at the Roman woman standing at his side, and their welcome had cooled. Many of them had shut their wattle doors in Aedan and Colombia’s faces.
But Enid hadn’t.
She’d ushered them into her dark, damp roundhouse and sat them down by the fire. A pot of mutton stew bubbled over the embers of the hearth, and the aroma made Aedan’s mouth fill with saliva. His gut ached with hunger now, demanding food.
It made it difficult to focus on negotiating with Enid, yet he had to.
Colombia drew too much attention dressed in her expensive tunic and stola. If they were to reach the Wall, she needed to blend in better. It was fortunate that she didn’t have the tanned skin and black hair typical of many of the Roman nobility; her paler looks would be an advantage once she was dressed like a Brigante woman.
Enid considered his words for a few moments, her lined face changing into a look of veiled calculation before she eventually nodded. “I’ll have those shoes too then,” she said, motioning to the slippers that Colombia carried. “Since she won’t be wearing them.”
“Agreed,” Aedan said curtly. Then, remembering his manners, he dipped his head. “Many thanks, Mother. We appreciate your hospitality.”
Enid snorted. She moved over to the fire and stirred the mutton stew. “You’re paying for it.”
Aedan didn’t reply. He cast a glance over at where Colombia had been watching their conversation. A groove had etched between her brows as she tried to understand what had transpired.
“She’s agreed to help us,” he murmured. Her expression was subdued, her gaze wary, and Aedan wondered if the poor welcome they’d received so far at Achwig had humbled her. When he’d told her his people didn’t welcome hers making this land their own, he sensed she hadn’t believed him—but after today, perhaps she would.
Enid glanced over her shoulder at him, her sharp gaze glinting. “Do you speak their tongue?”
Aedan nodded. “I was a Roman slave for a time.”