A Heart Unconquered
Widowed Saxon Lady Ediva Dunmow will do anything to protect her peopleâeven marry one of the invading Norman knights. The king sees it as a way to keep Ediva, her lands and her tenants subdued. But Edivaâs embittered heart, still healing from the abuse of her first husband, will not yield so easily.
Marriage never held any appeal for Adrien de Ries. Yet it is his kingâs will, and perhaps his Lordâs, tooâthough he finds his faith tested daily by Edivaâs staunch refusal to trust him. As a knight, Adrien survived many battles, but the fight to win Edivaâs heart may be his most challengingâand rewarding.
âYouâre crying.â
Blinking, Ediva lifted one small hand to her cheek.
Adrien sat down beside her. He took up her hand and held it quietly. âI have seen you on the parapet. Youâd mentioned that you dreamed of running away.â
âI thought about escaping to the forest. I wondered how long I could survive there.â
âWhy didnât you try?â
She looked at him, her eyes softened by tears. âIf I left, my husband would have turned his rage on my people.â
âGanute is gone, Ediva.â Adrien squeezed her hand firmly. âHe canât hurt you anymore.â
âAnd you, Adrien? Youâre a soldier, with violence in your blood.â
âTwas true. In the past, heâd justified his nature and work well enough and not given it another thought.
Until now, sitting beside Ediva with her questioning eyes and her pain so deep he feared no one could heal her.
At a loss, all he could do was lift her hand to his lips and kiss it.
Prologue
November 1066 A.D.
Ediva Dunmow had been told she was blessed to have her husbandâs body returned. For at Duke Williamâs order, the English whoâd died at Hastings were to remain on Senlac Hill.
But the only reason she had sent Geoffrey, her steward, for the body was to prove the vile man had actually died.
Now, as she stood over her husbandâs grave, the wind turned raw and rain threatened. The villagers and tenants had just paid their last respects to their fallen lord and then gathered to hear her speak. Anxious for security, they needed to know that Duke Williamâs army wouldnât ride into Essex to kill them all, a punishment perhaps for Ediva retrieving Ganuteâs body.
And perhaps they, too, needed to know that Ganute was truly dead and gone. He may have reserved a special brutality for Ediva, but heâd been cruel to all. And his cousin Olin, now standing beside her, showed hints of the same temper.
Enough was enough.
Stiff-shouldered, Ediva lifted her hand and the murmurings fell silent. Her veil and long, blond braids billowed in the strong breeze, as did her cloak. But she stood resolute, refusing the wind its due. âI will protect you. I will allow no oneânot even Duke William himselfâto plunder this land.â
Cold, chapped faces showed disbelief like the trees showed bare branches.
âI will!â She pulled in a breath, and then, finding her cloak cumbersome, threw it off. It sailed off like a crispy leaf, and with a cry, Margaret, her maid, rushed to retrieve it.
âHow can you keep us safe?â a male voice from deep in the crowd called out.
âHave I not survived all these years?â She shot the chaplain a biting glance, but from where he stood within the keepâs shadow this short, raw day, his expression was hidden from view.
Heâd often said âtwas her penance to endure a harsh husband, for she was a sinful woman. Well, that ability would prove to be her strength. She knew how to survive. Sheâd kept herself alive through all the abuses of her husband and had protected the maids from similar attacks in her stead. And now that Ganute was gone? Sheâd cower no longer.
Ediva faced her people. They dared not believe her yet. But that would change. âI promise that I will protect you. You wonât be hurt in any way, even if it costs me my life!â