Free Shattered Vows by Carol Townend Page A

Eadric had no more learning that she did. The Latin words were probably as incomprehensible to him as they were to everyone else. Father Cedric hadn’t bothered with the pretence of understanding them either. Only a handful of very holy men – the abbot, the bishop – understood the language of God.
    She rubbed her brow with the back of her hand. She felt as though the devil had set up an anvil in her brain and was forging chains in there. Through the banging, she had picked up that Osric and Alfwold were talking about taking her up to Ingerthorpe Castle. She struggled to understand what they were saying.
    ‘What...what did you say? I don’t think I can have heard you aright.’
    ‘You did,’ Osric said grimly. ‘You did.’
    Aeffe sniggered and Rosamund felt a prickle of foreboding. Aeffe hadn’t looked so pleased since Osric had bought the cloth for her last gown...
    ‘What’s amiss? Why are you all looking at me so oddly?’ Something was very wrong. ‘Alfwold?’ Her fingers clenched on the folds of the rose pink gown.
    Alfwold shut his eyes and it came to her that he couldn’t bear to look at her. Why? What was going on?
    Aeffe smiled. ‘You’re to go straight to the castle.’ Her eyes were bright, she was inordinately pleased about something – so pleased that she had forgotten her ‘lady of the manor’ voice and was speaking in as broad an accent as Osric. This, rather than her actual words, sent a shiver down Rosamund’s spine.
    ‘The castle? Why?’
    Aeffe giggled. ‘Sir Geoffrey’s taken a fancy to you. He’s waived the wedding fine on condition that you spend the first night of your married life in his chambers.’
    Rosamund froze. It couldn’t be true, she doubted Sir Geoffrey even knew what she looked like. ‘Alfwold?’ But Alfwold was staring fixedly at an oak tree. She turned to her father. ‘F..father?’
    Osric shrugged. His face was set, like a stone. ‘Alfwold is to accompany you. He’ll leave you at the castle and he’ll fetch you back in the morning.’
    Rosamund’s tongue seemed to have stuck to her palate.
    ‘Alfwold will come for you after Sir Geoffrey has finished with you,’ Aeffe added.
    ‘I don’t believe you!’ Rosamund almost choked. ‘If this is your idea of a game, Aeffe, I don’t think much of it.’
    ‘Mind your mouth.’ Osric gave her a black look. ‘You forget yourself. This was none of your stepmother’s doing. You’re expected at the castle.’
    ‘Alfwold, tell me it isn’t true.’
    Her husband stared at the tree. ‘It’s true.’
    ‘No. No! Alfwold, tell me you’ll stand by me – you won’t let them send me to Sir Geoffrey – you’re my husband, for pity’s sake!’
    At last Alfwold looked at her. ‘Rosamund,’ he said, sadly.
    And then she knew her husband would send her to the castle. He wouldn’t stand by her. He would let Baron Geoffrey waive the merchet and buy her body for the night and he would do nothing. He would do nothing because he was only a millstone dresser and if he was to settle in Ingerthorpe, Sir Geoffrey would be his liege lord. He must obey him.
    ‘There must be a way out of this! You can’t let him buy me as if I was a...a whore!’
    ‘Aren’t you?’ Aeffe whispered under her breath.
    Rosamund glared at them. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this before the ceremony?’
    ‘It would have made no difference, lass,’ Alfwold said. Of the three faces turned her way, his was the only one to be creased with concern. ‘You’d simply have fretted for longer.’
    ‘You should have told me! You should have given me a choice – particularly since it’s my body that you’ve sold!’
    Osric snorted, and turned away. ‘Alfwold, you sort her out, she’s your wife. Come, Aeffe, let’s get to the tavern, I could do with wetting my lips.’
    ‘Father, you can’t just-’
    Aeffe laughed and took Osric’s arm. ‘See you tomorrow, Rosamund, my dear.’
    Rosamund watched in disbelief as her father and Aeffe