Ensnared (Knights of Brethren #3)(37)

“You’ll be back by nightfall.”

“And if I’m not, I shall return on the morrow sometime.”

As his hand closed around the door handle, I clutched the wall to keep myself from running after him. Prolonging the parting would do neither of us any good.

His gaze swept over me slowly from head to foot, as though he was painting a picture to take with him. Then he turned, opened the door, and left without another word.

At the click of the door closing, I slid to the floor. A cry of both amazement and misery pushed for release, and I pressed my fist to my lips to hold it in.

Had Gunnar really declared his desire to be with me? After so many years of fighting this attraction, denying it, and trying to foster my animosity toward Gunnar, he’d eliminated all my defenses in but a few minutes’ time.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, replaying his kisses, his whispers, and his declaration: You are the only maiden I’ve ever loved . . . You are and always will be the only maiden for me.

Was this real? Or was this another one of his ploys?

No matter what it was, I was totally and thoroughly ensnared and didn’t want to free myself. I wanted to be his, even if only for these few stolen moments. Maybe that made me a weak woman. But the alternative was worse—living without him at all.

Perhaps eventually he’d be able to find a way to outsmart Bernhard so that we could love each other openly without consequences to ourselves and my family. But even if I had to live the rest of my life secretly loving Gunnar, I knew I would.





Chapter

15





Mikaela


I didn’t see or hear from Gunnar again, but the rumors circulating through the castle reached me by eventide that he’d gone into the forest to aid Frans.

I received the news as calmly as I could but hadn’t been able to hide my shaking hands from Nanna. She raised her brow at me but didn’t say anything, for which I was grateful. After she’d forbidden me to have any further interactions with Gunnar, I didn’t want her to know I’d kissed him again and had practically pledged myself to him.

At some point, I needed to tell her I couldn’t go through with marrying Frans. But first Gunnar had to find Frans. Although Gunnar had assured me that he would bring Frans out, I was under no illusion his task would be easy, since Frans already had a six-to-eight-hour head start.

“Finish the last bite, Renate,” I said as I scraped the final spoonful of the thick stew. She and Rikissa sat at the table in their chamber where they took most of their meals. When they turned sixteen, they would start eating in the great hall and begin the process of mingling with suitors in preparation for their coming-of-age balls. Until then, Nanna and I were in charge of their meals and manners.

“I am done.” Rena wiggled on the bench, ready to get down and play, bored from her long hour of sitting with her mother and having to behave properly.

I held the spoon out to her. “Before you decide to waste your food, I want you to think about all the villeins, my family included, who are hungry and would love to have this bite.”

Rena, at three, was too young to understand the difficulties. But I took every opportunity I could to inform her and Riki of the true plight, hoping I might instill in them sensitivity and insight into what life was like for many people who served the earl.

Nanna had done the same with all the children in her care over the years, including Gunnar. She claimed that changes began with small steps, and she worked tirelessly to influence the children to live honorably, to look out for the needs of others, to be generous and kind and unselfish.

Though I’d followed her methods, at times I grew impatient and wished for bigger and more practical ways to make a difference.

Yes, our influence over Rena and Riki was important. I didn’t deny that. But we couldn’t stop there. The problem was, I didn’t know how to do more. Perhaps others who’d come before me had also wanted to find ways to change our pitiful circumstances but hadn’t known how either. Maybe even Nanna had once been like me and resigned herself to doing the little she could the best way she knew how.

If only that were enough for me. . . .

As Rena opened up and ate her last bite obediently, Riki swallowed her final mouthful and peered up at me. “You look pretty.”

“Thank you.” I smoothed a hand down her long braid, plaited just like mine.

“Uncle Gunnar will think you look pretty too.”

I paused. How should I respond?

“Last night he said he cannot visit us anymore.” Riki folded her hands in her lap, watching me expectantly. “But if you ask him to, he will listen to you.”

“Uncle Gunnar can’t come,” Nanna cut in from where she stood in front of the hearth sweeping ashes. “He had to go away for a day or two.” She caught my gaze as though to warn me not to say anything about Gunnar going into the forest. As young as the girls were, they knew about the jotunn. They’d overheard their mother conversing about the madman and had been frightened ever since.

At an urgent tapping on the chamber door, I froze. What tidings were upon us now? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

As the door opened a crack, my friend Ami peeked through. While she outwardly appeared composed, her eyes held a warning. “Your sister Kirstin is at the servants’ door. She’s upset and is asking for you.”