“She thought to do Cailin a bad turn when she encouraged Berikos to put her in my bed the night I first came here,” Wulf said. “She knew that the Dobunni ways were not Cailin’s customs, and hoped to shame and degrade her by using me as her weapon.”
“I know,” Corio said softly. “Had it not turned out as it did, I would have strangled Brigit with my own two hands.”
Wulf Ironfist looked intently at the younger man. For a brief moment he saw something in Corio’s face that he had never seen there, but it was quickly gone. “You care for Cailin,” he said.
“I offered to make her my wife shortly after she came here, but she did not love me, at least as a man. She said she felt for me as she had her brothers.” He grinned wryly. “Now what man in love with a girl wants to hear that he reminds her of her kin? You do not remind her of her brothers, I will wager. Do you love her? I know you are good to her, but one day that will not be enough for Cailin. She is more Celt than Roman. She needs to be loved, not simply made love to.”
The big Saxon thought carefully. He had not considered loving Cailin. The kind of love that Corio was speaking of was a luxury between men and women. A man sought a wife who would be a good breeder, a good helper, and perhaps if he were fortunate, a good friend. Love. He turned the word over in his brain as if he could examine it. Did he love her? He knew he wanted to be with her whenever he was not about his duties. Not just to make love to her, but to be with her; to see her smile aimed in his direction; to smell her fresh fragrance; to talk with and nestle with her on a chilly night. He thought of the mixed feelings he had had of late when other men looked admiringly at his pregnant wife. He was proud, yet he was a little jealous, too. He considered what life would be without her, and found he could not even imagine such a thing now. The realization stunned him, and he heard himself say to Corio, “Yes, I do love her,” and the mad thing was that as the words rang in the springtime air, he knew in his deepest heart of hearts that it was true!
“Good,” Corio said with a smile. “I am glad you love her, because Cailin loves you.”
Corio’s declaration surprised Wulf Ironfist. “She does?” he said. “She has never told me so, even in the heat of passion. How is it you know she loves me? Has she said it to you?”
He shook his head. “No, Wulf, but I see it in her face each time you pass by; in her eyes as they follow you about the hall; in the way she smiles so proudly when you are praised in her presence. These are all signs of her feelings for you, but because she was so sheltered by her family, she is not aware yet of what these feelings within her mean. She will be one day, but in the meantime you must not hide your feelings from her.”
“I told her I would not take another woman, even when she and I could not love for the sake of the coming child. It seemed to please her very much,” Wulf Ironfist told Corio.
Corio laughed. “You see!” he said triumphantly. “She is jealous, and that, my friend, is the sure sign of a woman in love.”
The two men walked, still conversing, into the hall. Cailin was seated by her loom weaving cloth. She looked up, and a welcoming smile turned her mouth up prettily. “Wulf! Corio.” She arose. “Are you hungry, or thirsty? May I get you something?”
“We leave tomorrow for your villa,” Wulf began.
“I am coming with you,” Cailin said.
“You cannot,” he told her. “This is man’s work.”
“Neither my father’s lands nor my cousin’s are defended. There was never any need for that kind of defense. You will meet with no resistance, I promise you. Quintus Drusus will protest, but even his father-in-law, the chief magistrate of Corinium, will not deny me what is rightfully mine.”
“You will not be safe,” Wulf Ironfist said, “unless I kill this Quintus Drusus. Remember, he had no mercy upon your family.”