Читать книгу One Night With The Viking - Harper George St. - Страница 9

Chapter Two

Kadlin closed her eyes as she turned over in bed and fought the waves of nausea that rolled through her. She pressed her forehead against her arm and waited for it to pass. It had been the same every morning for the past week. Wake up to let Freyja out and then stumble back to bed, too dizzy to stand upright and fight the nausea that threatened to make her empty the contents of her stomach. Even before the nausea and vertigo, her breasts had been very sore. She had tried to attribute the strange soreness to her monthly ague, only the bleeding had never started, and now, she couldn’t deny it any longer.

It was time to admit that she was with Gunnar’s child.

The acknowledgement made her flop on to her back and stare at the ceiling. Her hand went to her belly, hoping to find some evidence of their child. It was a ritual she had repeated nightly in her chamber from the first moment she had even begun to suspect. So far, it seemed as flat as it had ever been. But that was all right, because today she could finally admit the truth to herself. Today made seven straight mornings of nausea.

When she’d invited him into her bed, she’d only thought that she’d been risking her heart, not a child. How naïve she had been. A laugh shook loose from deep in her belly and escaped past her lips as she threw her head back. Freyja scratched at the door to get in, startled by her mistress’, voice, but she ignored her. Her sweet maid, Edda, was a fool. Kadlin didn’t know the specifics behind the girl’s service to her family, but she had long suspected that Edda’s father had grown impatient with the young woman’s promiscuity and sent her away to toil under the watchful eye of Kadlin’s mother. His plan had met with little success, because the girl left a string of admirers in her wake. Thinking that Edda must be knowledgeable in the ways of men and women and child-making, some time ago Kadlin had asked her if it was possible to avoid motherhood while still enjoying a man. Even then, Kadlin’s thoughts had been of Gunnar. She’d been so certain that if she could seduce him, then he would admit his heart belonged to her. Edda had assured her that a virgin couldn’t get with child her first time with a man. That terrible logic had seemed so profound and true at the time. Now it just seemed horribly stupid and irresponsible.

She should have never listened to her. Kadlin frowned as she recalled exactly what had happened that night and realised that perhaps she was being unfair, perhaps it wasn’t entirely Edda’s fault. She had pulled Gunnar down for more kisses and had touched him until he had hardened again beneath her palm. It had been her own whispered pleas that had coaxed him to take her again...and then yet again. Perhaps it had been the second or third time with Gunnar that had done the trick and not the first.

Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t care. He wasn’t here and he would never be here. She had been so sure that once they had lain together, he would admit his love for her.

Pressing her palms to her forehead to ward off the tears that threatened, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to stop the painful memory of how their night had ended. Yet it refused to be stopped and brought with it a fresh wave of pain, jagged along its edges so that it tore at her anew. She’d dozed and awakened to find him dressing, his back to her as he pulled up his trousers. Still floating in the lingering aura of bliss, she had asked him to stay.

‘I never made you any promises.’ Those words still made her wince. When he’d turned, his eyes had been flat and cold, as though he was looking at a stranger. She hadn’t thought that promises had been necessary. Deep in the marrow of her bones, she knew that Gunnar was meant to be her husband and she was meant to bear his children. It was a truth as obvious to her as her own name. There was no doubt that he felt it, too, so she hadn’t even expected him to attempt to deny it.

‘We were meant for each other.’ Her words only amused him. His lips tipped up in that infuriating smile he had perfected long ago.

‘I’m not meant for you. I’m leaving, Kadlin, and I won’t be back. Go on with your life and marry a man who wants you.’

What happened afterward remained a blur. She was sure that she had protested, had argued that he didn’t mean those words, but nothing had chipped away at the wall he had so quickly erected between them. In mere moments, he had left her life as quickly as he had returned to it.

Her face flamed with the memory and a pain-filled groan escaped her chest. She was the fool. She had been too confident that his love for her was as true as her love for him. He’d given her no reason to put her faith in him, but she’d done it anyway. And now he was gone and she would have his child. Her eyes fell closed and she imagined snuggling the babe to her breast while Gunnar looked on, his eyes bright with love and tenderness for them. She would give anything to have him there. To be his wife. To tell him the joyous news of their child and watch him smile as he drew her into his arms. There was no one else she wanted as husband and father to her children. No one. Gunnar had always been the one to fill that role in her fantasies.

Soon, she would have to tell her parents. She didn’t want to dwell on the look of disappointment sure to cross her father’s face. But she didn’t have to tell him yet, so she vowed to simply enjoy the knowledge that Gunnar’s child slept in her womb beneath her heart. Later, she would decide what to do.

* * *

But later came much sooner than she expected. Kadlin was scarcely able to savour the pregnancy for three weeks before a decision was made for her.

‘Hush, little one, Mother comes.’ Her baby brother fussed and sucked at his fist as Kadlin swayed and bounced, trying to find a rhythm that would soothe him until their mother could free herself from the children that ran around her. Kadlin smiled as she watched her four little sisters, the youngest one only three years old, chase their mother across the field. They were like beautiful miniatures of the woman as they ran in descending order of size. What had been a berry-picking excursion had quickly become a game of chase the mouse. Just last year her two brothers would have joined in the fun, but they considered themselves too old for such nonsense now, though they watched closely from their place guarding the baskets.

Kadlin laughed from the shade of the birch and cuddled the baby close, her thoughts on her own child. Though she was still happy, she was no closer to determining a solution. It would be later in the summer before a boat left so that she could send word to Gunnar, but even as she thought it, she realised it wasn’t something that she could do. He had left her and made it clear that he wouldn’t return. He wouldn’t care about a child and she was too prideful to risk yet another rejection. Try as she might, she couldn’t forget the hardness in his eyes that night.

‘You are beautiful with a child in your arms, Kadlin.’

The unwelcome voice made her gasp as she turned around to face the one who’d intruded on her privacy. A man with a blade-straight nose and vivid blue eyes approached. Since many of the men were across the sea, the jarl had thought it prudent to send out a contingent of men to help keep order on his lands. Her father had appointed Baldr to lead those men and he must have compensated him well to make him stay instead of seeking out his fortune like the others. Baldr frequently sought her out, making her wonder if he and her father had ever discussed her hand as part of their arrangement. Though he was handsome, there was a cruelty in his face that made her unconsciously hold her breath every time she spoke to him.

‘Hello, Baldr. I wasn’t aware you had returned.’

‘Just late last night. I looked for you this morning, but didn’t find you. Were you ill?’

Kadlin swallowed and spoke the lies that were coming too readily to her lips. Everyone noted her morning absences. ‘I’ve been unwell, but as you can see, I’m feeling much better.’

He nodded and smiled a smile that was a bit too knowing. When his gaze swept over her torso, lingering on the extra fullness of her breasts, she adjusted the infant to hide them. ‘Aye, that’s what your pretty maid said.’

Her heart sank. Nay, Edda, not him. Edda was the only one who had begun to suspect that she was with child. Kadlin had caught the maid sneaking glances at her waistline more than once in the weeks since her morning sickness had begun. No one else had even bothered to question her chastity, but the girl had every reason to suspect. That very morning, she had come in late with Kadlin’s washing water, knowing that Kadlin would still be abed. Edda had looked dishevelled and flushed, making Kadlin wonder if she’d just come from a lover.

She took a step backwards and couldn’t stop her eyes from cutting as harsh as her words. ‘Do you think bedding my servant will make you more appealing to me, Baldr?’

He laughed, a short hissing of breath that barely escaped his chest, and took slow steps towards her. He stopped just before her and reached to touch her hand, a lock of glossy, dark hair falling across his forehead. ‘Men bed her because her beauty is second only to yours. But you must know that they also do it because they know it’s as close as they’ll get to bedding you.’ His fingertips trailed from her hand to the expanse of flesh exposed above the bodice of her gown.

She jerked away, causing his smile to widen. ‘But that isn’t really true any more, is it? Someone bedded you and now his seed has taken root.’

‘You’re depraved.’

‘I want you as my wife, Kadlin, even with that bastard in you. I’ll accept it as my own. That’s more than you’ll get from anyone else. More than you’ve got from the bastard’s own father.’

Those words cut a little too close to the truth. ‘Leave my sight!’ The infant startled at her harsh words and then began to cry. She held him tighter to her chest, but didn’t take her eyes from the man before her. ‘I will never want you, Baldr. Never!’

He glanced behind her to the others who had surely noted her outburst. ‘It matters not what you want, Kadlin. If it’s the jarl’s wish, you’ll accept me into your life.’ His lustful gaze raked her body before settling on hers again. ‘And into your bed.’ With that promise, he turned on his heel and left.

Fingers shaking with a mixture of anger and fear, she handed the baby over to her mother only moments later. She was out of time. Her father would know before nightfall and she had no idea what to do. The worst of it was that she couldn’t even dispute what Baldr had said. Gunnar wouldn’t acknowledge their child. He didn’t want them.

Ignoring her mother’s questions, she ran all the way back to the longhouse and shut herself inside her chamber where she gave in to the despair that had threatened her all along. And waited for the summons she was certain would come from her father.

* * *

It came later that night.

‘What have you done?’

It was the second time her father had asked that question, but she still had no answer for him. She stood just inside the door of her parents’ chamber; it was closed tight behind her to keep the conversation as confidential as possible in such close quarters. The only sounds were the sighs of the baby sleeping peacefully on the bed and her mother’s soft sobs from her chair beside her father. Seeing the tears on her mother’s cheeks made her throat ache with her own unshed tears.

‘What man did this to you?’

She risked another glance at the face she held so dear, only it wasn’t the kind face of the father she cherished. His cheeks were aflame with his fury, and his greying, golden hair was dishevelled, as if he’d raked through it with his hands countless times. Everyone said that he indulged her, that he favoured her too much, and perhaps they were right because she’d never seen him so angry.

‘Leif, calm yourself. Can’t you see that she’s afraid?’ Her mother’s soft voice broke the tension and she held out her hand to Kadlin, but Kadlin couldn’t make her feet move her forward to accept it.

The jarl cursed under his breath and raked a hand through his hair. When he looked up at Kadlin, the anger had receded a fraction, replaced with concern. ‘Were you forced?’

Kadlin shook her head and found her voice. ‘Nay, Father, I was not forced.’

‘So it’s true.’ He sighed as if he’d been hoping that the information he’d been given was wrong. ‘Seduced, then?’

Again she shook her head, nay.

The anger returned. ‘Give me his name.’

‘What will a name do? He’s gone, across the sea with everyone else.’

‘Oh, Kadlin.’ Her mother brought a hand up to cover her lips as she processed those words before continuing. ‘Why? If there is someone you favoured you could have come to us and we could have arranged a marriage before he left.’

Addressing her mother, she spoke evenly. ‘Because you would not have arranged a marriage for us so easily. And because I wasn’t even certain of him myself. I hadn’t seen him in years.’

The jarl shook his head. ‘I have brought countless men before you and you’ve eschewed them all. All of them! Even Eirik. And you ask me what will a name do? I want to know this paragon of masculinity who stole your good sense and virginity when not one of the men I brought before you even turned your head. A name, Kadlin.’

She drew herself up to her full height and took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if her father could kill him now, and besides, he was gone, never to return. She would never see him again, never touch him, never laugh with him. The ache in her throat threatened to choke off her words when she spoke. ‘It was Gunnar. Gunnar is the father of my child.’

Her parents sat in a stunned silence that was only broken when her mother broke down into sobs again. Her father was unnaturally still before he finally spoke. ‘You gave yourself to a bastard?’

‘He is acknowledged, Father. It’s not as if he’s without a family. Besides, he cannot be blamed for the manner in which he was conceived. I want to marry him.’ Nay, that wasn’t right. Not any more. When would she learn to think of him as part of her past? ‘I wanted to marry him. I don’t know why this comes as such a surprise. As a child, I spoke often of marrying him. But it’s been years since I’ve seen him and I needed to see him again to be sure.’

But her father shook his head. ‘Kadlin...he is not for you. Aye, his father has acknowledged him and raised him, but he has no future. No lands, no place in the world except to swing a blade and count his treasure.’

‘Aye, Father, that’s right. He has treasure from his excursions. He leads his own ship. He has the means to support me and a family. Why was he such a bad choice?’ Not that it mattered now with him long gone, but she couldn’t stop the unreasonable well of anger that rose within her. If her father had sanctioned her choice all along, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. Perhaps they could have married years ago.

‘Why was he such a bad choice? Tell me this, Daughter. Where would you live with him? Does he have a home? A hall to keep you warm in the winter, a place to keep your children protected as they grow? He is not that type of man, Kadlin. He’s transient. He lives on only what his father’s good conscience has provided for him and when that ends he will pass his winters in hovels or whatever place he has managed to come by through pillaging, where he will live in constant fear of being killed. And one day he will be killed and what do you suppose would become of you? You would be passed to the next man in line, or perhaps taken as a triumph of his murderer, and you would live with him until he, too, is killed and so on and so forth until you, too, are gone. By then your children will have been scattered to the whims of life. Is this how you envision your future?’

Kadlin shook her head to deny the harsh future he described. ‘Nay, you are wrong.’

‘Am I? Then let us go back to the essential question. Has he offered you marriage?’

She swallowed past the ache in her throat and forced the word out. ‘Nay.’

‘He beds a woman like you, a prize that every bachelor wants, and doesn’t even have to speak of marriage to do it?’

‘Stop it, Father!’ She held her hand up to ward off his words. ‘None of this matters now. I loved him and he left me! Does that make you happy? There will be no marriage. I gave myself to him and he didn’t want me.’ Her voice broke on that last word and tears spilled down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her middle in some attempt to hold herself together, as the pain threatened to rip her apart. Her mother’s arms joined her own and she turned into the woman’s embrace, seeking some nameless solace from the pain of the gaping wound in her heart.

‘You’ll marry Baldr.’

‘No—’

Her father shook his head. ‘Don’t attempt to sway me, Kadlin. He’s offered and I see no other choice. Your child needs a father, a name.’

‘Please, Father.’ Pulling away from her mother, she ran and fell to her knees before him, bringing his hand to her cheek. ‘Please, not him. I don’t like him.’

He smiled wryly and brushed his fingers across her cheekbone, the anger momentarily gone from his eyes. ‘You don’t like any of them, Kadlin. But you must accept that your child needs a father. Do you want him to be a bastard like Gunnar? You’ve seen how difficult his life is. Do you want your son to have the same life? Always at a disadvantage because of the accident of his conception?’

She closed her eyes against the pain of his words, more tears escaping down her cheeks. ‘You know I don’t.’

‘Then marry Baldr. He has promised to care for you and the child.’

‘Nay, Father. He is a cruel man. He frightens me.’

The anger completely left him then to be replaced by something that was even worse. Pity. He cupped her face with both hands and placed a kiss on her forehead. ‘I would do anything to spare you from this pain. If he were here now, I would kill Gunnar myself for leaving you to face this alone. It only proves that I was right about him.’ Taking a deep breath, he ploughed ahead. ‘You will be married now. You have no choice.’

She trembled as a deep, wrenching sob struggled to find purchase in her throat. Her father’s words hinted at a truth she had tried so hard to deny. Gunnar must have known that a child was possible. He must have known that she loved him. He must have known how his leaving would destroy her. But she had to make a choice for her child now. ‘I’ll marry Dagan, but not Baldr.’ Dagan was a childhood friend she had known almost as long as Gunnar. He was kind and good, a fine warrior who planned to leave for the Saxon lands before winter. Though the thought of marrying anyone except Gunnar tore out her heart, if she would marry anyone else it would be Dagan. He would understand that she needed time before...before she could truly be a wife to him. The very thought of it caused another tear to leak down her cheek.

‘Dagan?’ Her father looked pensive and then nodded. ‘He’s from a strong family. He will agree to this?’

‘Aye,’ she whispered. Dagan had hinted at the idea of marriage before and she had turned him down gently.

Her father nodded. ‘Before the next moon you will be married.’