Page 48 of Merciful Salvation

“Could this not have been handled in a more appropriate setting?” Tyr asked.

“I’ve waited for Jarl McNally’s return long enough,” Frieda said. “Why should I give him the courtesy of time, when he’s shunned us for so long?”

Tyr turned to his cousin. “Does she speak the truth?”

Aaron only cared about one person at the moment. Kara. He wanted to hug her close and explain everything in private. She remained calm, but looked inevitably disappointed, embarrassed. The past had finally caught up with him—neatly clothed in wool skirts, with a triumphant smile on her face. And the child... He bore no resemblance to Aaron, but favored his mother with blond curls and a round face. Any man would be proud to claim him.

Instead of responding to his cousin’s question, he glared at Frieda. “How did you find me?”

“Word of your return to the Trondelag reached me weeks ago. I came here too late the first time, so I waited, hoping you’d come back.”

“Have I been hard to find all these years?” Surely the wench knew his whereabouts.

Why now? He didn’t trust her. What memories he’d suppressed came rushing back. Bitterness crept up his spine. Their affair had continued for a few months after they were both expelled from Tyr’s household. It was doomed from the start. Revenge and spite had driven them together, and guilt had torn them apart. Rejected for the second time in the span of a year, Frieda had been only too willing to spread her legs for the next best man she could find, a soldier from a nearby steading.

When she’d realized he didn’t have the wealth and influence she had grown accustomed to as Tyr’s mistress, she left the Trondelag. And no promises had been made between Aaron and her. He knew she wasn’t pregnant when they parted. If she had been, he would have found a way to mend their relationship. He’d been the worst kind of fool most of his life. Dipped his wick in treacherous water and now he’d drown for it.

Shaking his head sadly, he knew what he must do to protect himself. There was no alternative; she chose to make this a public issue, now he’d challenge her claim. “I deny your accusation. You never sent word to me about a pregnancy.”

Frieda sobbed. The small crowd murmured with sympathy.

“How can you refuse this woman?” Kara asked.

Aaron stared down at her. “Do you take the word of a stranger over me? Trust me when I say this is nothing more than well-practiced theatrics. This woman has waited a long time to snare me.”

“Why?” Kara asked. “What does she have to gain, but rejection and humiliation, if she lies?”

The conversation they’d had concerning rape in camp echoed through his mind. Of course she’d take sympathy on a woman left out in the cold. “I assure you, there is no truth in what she says.”

Doubt and deep displeasure showed on her face. “Jarl McNally,” she said too formally, colder than he’d ever heard. “I could forgive a philanderer. Men wander bed to bed. I know. I have two elder brothers and an unmarried father. But to deny this woman without further inquiry—without speaking to the child or questioning her kinsmen—I’ve never witnessed anything so contemptible in my life. If you don’t offer them shelter and comfort, I will.”

Through each damning word, he prayed for strength. Her insults pelted his body like jagged stones. Condemned before he was given a chance to explain? He watched helplessly as Kara hurried to his accuser’s side. What could they possibly have to talk about? The obvious answer made him sick.

Without further discussion, he strode out of the great hall.

“We cannot allow that woman’s lies to take root in Kara’s heart.” Rachelle wrung her hands. She knew the truth. Frieda had played a large role in separating her from her husband four years ago.

“I cannot stand in judgment until I hear both sides of this story.” Tyr cradled her hand in his. “Aaron bedded her for months. The childbelongs to someone—what if he is Aaron’s son? Will you have me reject our own blood?”

A fair question. But Frieda’s past behavior cast more than doubt on her. Regardless of the truth, the innocent child could stay. Relieved most of the guests had departed, Rachelle considered what to do next. Welcoming Frieda into her household would take every ounce of patience and tolerance she possessed. Rachelle had forgiven Aaron because he was a kinsman. The woman, however, remained nothing but her husband’s former lover.

Tyr kissed her cheek. “The truth will come out.”

She nodded. The truth was what she feared most.

Kara stroked the curly hair of the little boy sprawled across her bed. His blue eyes were heavy with sleep. Frieda sat in a chair beside them, sniffling and dabbing her eyes dry on a borrowed kerchief.

“I never considered it,” she wheezed. “After all the time we spent together, how cruelly he’d reject me.” She looked pitifully at her child. “And our beautiful son.”

Kara couldn’t believe how callously Aaron had responded, either. Admittedly, any man would have been shocked, but his latest action had nearly succeeded in plucking Aaron right out of her heart. That could behersitting in that chair a few months from now. “What’s his name?”

“Wray.”

Kara grinned. “Be at peace. As soon as I’m free to leave, if you have nowhere else to go, accompany me to my father’s house. We are always in need of experienced maids.”

“You’d do that for a stranger?”

“I would.” She scooted off the bed. “Now sleep. Tomorrow is another day.”