'I see you are well ahead,' Rolf said from the doorway.

Ailith jumped guiltily and turned round. He was leaning against the door jamb, watching her, his arms folded. She wondered how long he had been there, and if he had seen her lingering touch when she carefully laid the tunics and shirt within the chest.

'It seems only sensible to be ready in good time. Tomorrow dawn with everyone waiting in the bailey is no occasion to be packing baggage.'

'No,' he agreed with a smile, and pushing himself upright, advanced into the room, which was, after all, his own.

'You can come out of hiding now that Tancred's gone. I have never known you to be so industrious in far-away corners,' he teased. 'He was as embarrassed as you were.' He tilted his head to one side. 'Tancred is a good friend and the best overseer a man could have. When the time comes, his son Mauger will inherit his father's place. I could not wish for better people to serve me, even as I could not wish for a better chatelaine. I expect you and Tancred to forget that first day and rub along together if circumstances demand.'

Ailith had watched Rolf and Tancred drinking together, had seen their camaraderie and the way each man reacted upon the other until they degenerated into silly little boys. She had also heard them discussing horses and bloodlines in the yard with a fluid expertise that left her a baffled outsider.

'If it is important to you, I will do my best,' she said.

He eyed her thoughtfully. 'Fetch your cloak,' he said suddenly. 'I want to see how good a rider you are these days.'

Ailith shook her head. Since arriving at Ulverton, she had been coaxed by Rolf into learning how to ride on her own instead of going pillion behind him or a groom, or taking a seat in the baggage wain, but she knew herself an indifferent horsewoman. 'I haven't the time,' she excused lamely.

'Then make it.'

Before she knew what was happening, Ailith found herself down in the lower courtyard outside the stables. A groom led out a small chestnut mare with sharply pricked ears, a bright eye, and a high-stepping action.

'She won't be mated until the spring.' Rolf gave Ailith a gentle push in the mare's direction. 'She is yours until then.'

Ailith swallowed, not at all sure that she desired such a splendid gift.

'Do not you dare to say that she is beyond your station or moralise on what people will think of you,' Rolf forestalled her protest. 'You will not shame me before everyone here by refusing.'

Ailith smiled nervously. 'I fear that I will shame myself. 'How will I stay in the saddle when I am only accustomed to the plodding paces of that old brown cob?'

'You'll learn between here and London,' he said cheerfully, and cupping his hands for her foot, boosted her into the saddle. The young mare shied and almost unseated Ailith. She clung grimly to the reins, gripped with her thighs, and after a few fraught moments, managed to bring the horse under control. She glared at Rolf. He just grinned.

'You will never see anything but the ground unless you lift your eyes to the horizon,' he told her. 'Live a little, Ailith, cast yourself into the wind.'

Ailith drew in the reins as tight as she could. 'At the moment,' she retorted, 'I am more concerned with not casting myself beneath the hooves of this horse.'

CHAPTER 23

Whistling to himself, Rolf came in from the cold and sat down at the fire beside Aubert. The wine merchant was recovering from an attack of winter ague, and although over the worst, was cosseting himself before his hearth, using his blocked nose as an excuse to drink hot, cinnamon-flavoured wine.

Rolf rubbed his hands and held them out to the flames. 'Tell me I am mad,' he said.

'You do not need me to tell you that!' Aubert snorted. 'What have you done? Wagered your fortune on the throw of a single dice? Courted another man's wife beneath his very nose?'

Rolf laughed. 'Neither of those, although they were both possibilities. No, I'm going north next week with Robert de Comminges. The King has granted him the lordship of Durham — it's a city close to the Scots border.'

'Ah, your incurable wanderlust.' Aubert looked at him sidelong. 'I did not know Robert de Comminges was a friend of yours.'

'He isn't, but he pays well for his horses. I've seen nothing of England north of the Trent, but I have heard that they breed fine, sturdy ponies in the north parts of the old Danelaw.'

'You intend breeding ponies?' Aubert lifted a curious brow.

'There are plenty of buyers for good sumpter beasts. Think of all the English wool that has to be carried to the ports for shipping to Flanders.'

Aubert nodded at the sense of the statement and stroked his bristly jaw. 'You talk like a merchant,' he said dryly.

'I am, although not as adept as you if what I hear of your business ventures is true.'

Aubert shrugged modestly. 'I invest in vessels and cargoes, and thus far, they've all had the good fortune to return me a profit,'

'A handsome profit. I understand you've invested in property too.'

'Here and there, mere dabblings to provide security. I want to leave Benedict well provided for when it comes his turn to inherit.'

Rolf doubted the veracity of Aubert's claim to 'mere dabblings', for that was not Aubert's way. He suspected that his friend's ventures were making him a very rich man. Before he could decide how to fish further, however, the door was flung open and Felice and Ailith bustled into the room, their arms loaded with Chepeside purchases.

Felice looked as beautiful as always, her cheeks rosy-bright, her dark eyes sparkling, but it was Ailith who held Rolf's eye – and tugged at his heartstrings. The alchemy of laughter transformed her entire face and made of it a bewitching new territory that he longed to explore with a wanderlust almost as powerful as that which drew him towards the north.

'You know,' murmured Aubert, 'Felice and I were deeply concerned when you took Ailith to Ulverton, but I can see now that we were wrong. Ailith needed to break away from the life she was leading with us, and from what I have seen and heard, she is very happy in her new position. I misjudged you, Rolf.'

Rolf slowly shook his head. 'You did not misjudge me at all,' he said softly, watching Ailith as she removed her cloak and hung it on a wall peg. 'Sometimes I am hard pressed not to fling her down on the nearest mattress and fill her to the hilt. The only thing that prevents me is the thought of what would happen afterwards, and I am coming closer and closer to saying be damned to the consequences.'

'So that is why you are going north — because you cannot scratch your itch?'

Rolf pursed his lips to consider. 'No,' he said after a moment. 'Whether I had bedded her or not, I would still take the road to Durham.'

Aubert grunted. 'Then you are not as much in thrall as your body thinks.'

'And there are bound to be willing women along the way,' Rolf added with a self-mocking grin. He rose and stretched, his glance meeting Ailith's across the room. Benedict in her arms, she smiled and hastened over to him.

'Have you spent all my money?' he teased.

'Do not judge me by your own standards,' she retorted smartly. 'I have brought you home a full bag of silver.'

'Hah, then what did you buy?'

'Linen for shirts and shifts, needles and threads and herbs. A loaf of sugar.' She ticked off the items on her fingers while Benedict rested in the crook of her arm and grinned at Rolf as if he was party to a great jest. 'Some pottery cups for the high table. They stack one inside the other, according to size, so they'll be easier to store than the ones we've already got. I bought myself a new belt since my old one is almost worn through, and two dozen weaving tablets. Oh, and this.' She gave him Benedict to hold and delved into the pouch at her waist. 'For you,' she said, reddening a little as she presented him with a silver cloak brooch in the shape of a six-legged horse.

'It is bought with my own coin from the sale of Goldwin's forge. It is to thank you for all you have done for me, and to bring you good fortune. I know you set score by your talismans.'

Rolf looked at the token in his palm – Sleipnir, the legendary mount of Odin the all-father. He was touched and proud. He also felt more than a little unworthy. Stooping slightly, he kissed her cold cheek. 'It is more than I deserve,' he said.

Felice joined them, taking Benedict from Rolf's arms. 'Is it not pretty?' she asked, nodding at the brooch. 'The moment Ailith set eyes on it, she was determined to buy it for you.'

Pretty was not the word Rolf would have used to describe the stark, spartan lines of the clasp, but he nodded all the same.

'While we were discussing the price with the silversmith, we saw Wulfstan and his new wife,' Felice added.

'His new wife?' Rolf looked up in surprise. He touched his throat, remembering Wulfstan's fist squeezing there and the spittle of rage on the Saxon's beard. 'He recovered from his disappointment soon enough.'

'The damage was to his pride, not his heart,' Felice said darkly and wagged a salutary forefinger. 'Do not think he has forgiven and forgotten? He hasn't spoken to us since you took Ailith to Ulverton.'

'Small loss,' Aubert grunted from his seat by the fire.

'And you say he's married now?' Rolf asked.

'In the autumn to the daughter of another goldsmith. Wulfstan must have got her with child on their wedding night because she is showing as round as a barrel and he is at pains that everyone should see the results of his prowess.'

Rolf pinched his upper lip between forefinger and thumb. 'Did he speak to you?'

'He didn't see us,' Ailith said quickly. 'We hid our faces until he had passed. I felt sorry for his poor wife. She was dressed in so much finery that it was weighing her down, and I could tell that she was longing to be sick. When I think that it could have been me…" A little shiver ran through her.

'But it isn't,' Rolf soothed. 'You are safe forever from such as he.'

Aubert spoke up, trying to dispel the sombre atmosphere that had suddenly settled, 'Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I would say.'

Ailith reddened and excused herself to the safe stowing of her purchases. She heard Rolf say something reproachful to Aubert, although she did not catch the words, and then Aubert's hearty laugh, which terminated in a bout of coughing.

Moments later, Rolf joined her in the corner of the hall where her pallet and belongings lay. 'I'm going north for a few months,' he announced.

'North?' Ailith stopped what she was doing and stared at him. 'Where?'

'To Durham with Robert de Comminges. He's been appointed earl in Gospatric's place. I have heard that there are good sumpter ponies to be bought in Mercia and Northumbria.'

She was gripped by a cold feeling of dismay, 'The north has not been tamed. My brothers used to say that the peoples beyond the Humber saw King Harold as a foreigner. They look to the Norse for their succour. Their language and their ways are different.'

'I know,' he said without concern. 'My own family were once Vikings. I am told that my great-grandfather was as fluent in Norse as he was in French.'

She shook her head. 'You will be putting yourself in great danger.'

'No more than I ever did by joining the English expedition in the first place.'

Her lips tightened. She turned away and began folding the yards of bought linen into a coffer. 'You have responsibilities that you take as lightly as your care for your own life,' she said without looking round.

Rolf snorted. 'I know my responsibilities. Christ, you sound like my wife!'

'Then follow your whim up the great north road,' she retorted stiffly, 'and pray that your gains outweigh your losses.'

'What is that supposed to mean?' He grasped her arm and dragged her round to face him.

Ailith shook him off. 'You fool. Do you never stop to think that the green on the other side of the hill might be nothing but a quagmire?' She glared at him, banged down the coffer lid, and stalked away.

Rolf had not bargained for such a hostile response. Several emotions assaulted him at once. He was angry at the manner in which she had spoken to him, and that in turn made him all the more determined to travel north. He had wanted to take her in his arms and brutally cover that furious mouth with a kiss. Lust, frustration, the need to possess. Most unsettling of all, as he stood staring at the coffer and the empty pallet, a treacherous thread of reason told him that he should heed her opinion and bide here in the south.