For now, he drank in her mouth, welcomed her touch and tried to forget the future he must face.
‘Sandulf Sigurdsson keeps secrets, you know. I can always tell,’ Ceanna’s aunt said to her when they were alone together after the brief marriage ceremony. She had lent them a bedchamber for the night and had insisted on preparing Ceanna for the marriage bed. ‘He knew every word in the ceremony. An oddity for a heathen warrior, don’t you think?’
‘He did travel to Constantinople and served the emperor. He will have learned it there. I thought you’d be pleased that he was willing to go through a baptism as well.’
Her aunt shook herself like a disgruntled hen. ‘Were you convinced of his sincerity? Only time will tell. He twists the truth about other matters, so why not in this, too?’
‘It’s impressive that you know his secrets within an afternoon of meeting him.’ Ceanna forced her voice to be light.
‘I know his type, Ceanna. Don’t be impudent. And keep still. Your hair is in a terrible tangle. Unless you braid it carefully, you’ll never be presentable.’
‘Maybe I like it wild and free.’
‘Allow me to do this for you, Ceanna. Your mother should have been the one. I can honour her in this way.’
Her aunt combed out Ceanna’s hair until it shone and fell about her in a silken cloud. The tenderness with which her aunt did this surprised Ceanna. It was almost as if she cared.
Ceanna stared at the bed and tried not to think of the night which lay before her. It was entirely possible that Sandulf would treat her as he had always done—as a friend rather than a lover. She remembered the agreement they made about friendship the night they spent in the hayloft. ‘Twists the truth about what? What other secrets has he kept hidden? What have you uncovered?’
‘His reason for coming here. I fear a much darker purpose.’ Her aunt put down the comb with a sigh. ‘You are so like your dear departed mother. You will not listen to reason, but please know that should you ever require it, a place can be found for you here, despite what I said earlier. I’ll look past your indiscretions provided you do proper penance. When Brother Mattios returns from his travels, he’ll be able to advise me.’
Ceanna silently vowed that she’d starve first. Her aunt simply wanted to unnerve her. Ceanna remembered how her mother had often dissolved into tears after one of her aunt’s more pointed barbs. She wondered how she’d forgotten that little fact, in her haste to find a refuge here. No, she hadn’t really forgotten it; she’d just had nowhere else to go.
‘You don’t trust my judgement of him,’ she said instead.
‘No man by the name he gave resides at this place. Never has done. Why did your new husband want to come here so badly? Why does he lie? The obvious reason is that he seeks some holy treasure. It is what Brother Mattios predicted.’ Her aunt coughed pointedly. ‘There is still time to get the marriage annulled before the bedding. Think about it, child.’
Ceanna stilled. Someone had given Sandulf the wrong information. His coming here had all been a wild goose chase, most likely concocted by his new sister-in-law, this Annis of Glannoventa. She might have reasons why she had wanted to send Sandulf on a fruitless and time-consuming quest. Her heart sank. She’d had a half-formed plan of getting Sandulf to fight for Dun Ollaigh. Now, it would appear, his quest would have to continue in a different direction.
‘No man by that name. Are you certain?’
‘My scribes checked the rolls three times. The only man who could possibly even fit the description your husband gave is Brother Mattios, a man with an impeccable reputation and who is beyond reproach. You should have seen the scrolls he brought from the Jarrow monastery.’
‘Perhaps this Lugh took a different name before he arrived.’
Her aunt frowned. ‘So you prefer to believe your Northman’s pretty words. Some day you will be wiser about men and their ways, my dear. I’ve had Brother Malcolm inform him about the lack of any evidence in the records. Your Northman may very well decide to leave before ever gracing your bed or seeing you. At least, that was what Brother Malcolm predicted.’
A hard knot formed in the base of Ceanna’s stomach. Sandulf wouldn’t abandon her, would he? ‘Brother Malcolm doesn’t know my husband.’
‘It would be a blessing in many ways if it happened. An unconsummated marriage and a deserted bride...an annulment would be merely a formality.’
‘If you are so against him, why did you allow us to marry?’
‘I don’t know, child. You looked at me like your mother used to and I found I couldn’t refuse. But I thought you ought to know my disquiet despite your obvious enthralment with this man.’
Ceanna rolled her eyes. Enthralled. She had to hope that Sandulf hadn’t noticed. And that he paid no attention to Brother Malcolm’s helpful suggestion of abandoning her.
‘Has anyone come here lately asking to join the order? Anyone whose motives were questionable, anyone who was refused?’
Her aunt started to shake her head when her assistant, who had been preparing the bed with fresh linens, gave a squeak. ‘There was a man several weeks ago who was refused.’
‘Out with it, Sister. What man?’
‘Brother Mattios was speaking to him in the yard when you had that bad headache. He swore me to secrecy. He spoke of dire things happening if anyone knew. Could this be the man your new husband is looking for?’
Her aunt sighed. ‘Sister, Brother Mattios would have told me if there was anyone untoward who came here while I was indisposed.’
The nun made a curtsy and mumbled
