Читать книгу Longing For Her Forbidden Viking - Harper St. George - Страница 14

Chapter Three

Оглавление

A fierce wave of protectiveness overcame Aevir. It was so sudden that it staggered him, forcing him to take a step back from the lovely green eyes staring up at him with such a tender plea in their depths. The eyes of a girl who could potentially be in league with Godric’s hatred towards them, he forced himself to remember. A girl Aevir should not want nearly as much as he did.

‘I cannot marry you,’ he said.

Her smile widened, surprising him. ‘Ah, then I suppose I’ll be forced to find another.’ She shrugged and made a show of looking towards the warriors moving about behind him as if she had expected him to refuse her all along.

Was she really that determined to thwart her father’s wishes or was this some elaborate trick to get close to a Dane warrior? He couldn’t decide. He, who had made his living from his ability to size up his opponents and potential employers, couldn’t determine if the girl before him was authentic. He couldn’t look past his desire for her to see the truth and it made her dangerous to him. Rolfe didn’t seem to think the sisters were a threat. He had told Aevir in no uncertain terms that the girls were as much victims of their father’s hatred as the Danes. Perhaps he was right and Aevir simply wanted her to be a spy so that he could rid himself of his fascination with her.

Giving her a nod, he went to turn away. Let her deal with her own problems. She was not his concern. Except as he turned, his gaze fell to her mouth one final time and he saw that her lips were trembling. Her eyes were unnaturally bright in the torchlight, unshed tears flickering in the shadowed night.

Odin save him, he wanted to help her.

Nay, the pure and undiluted truth was that he simply wanted her. Before he realised what he was doing to stop himself, he palmed her jaw, gently stroking her lush bottom lip with his thumb. Her mouth was as soft and warm as he remembered. He half-expected her to pull away, but she simply stared up at him, mute in her misery.

Why did that misery twist something deep inside him?

‘I can help you another way.’

‘How?’ Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Part of him wanted her to refuse him. A bigger part of him thrilled that she might accept him. ‘Become my concubine.’

Her lips parted in shock and he forced himself to stop touching her lest he take her mouth beneath his.

‘Lord Vidar will hardly allow... Father would... I...’ Her gaze dropped to the ground and she crossed her arms beneath her cloak, pulling it tight around her shoulders.

She wasn’t the type of woman to become a warrior’s concubine. She wasn’t sophisticated or particularly wise in the ways of the world. Her life had revolved around her farm and village until she had come to Alvey. Good sense demanded that he rescind the offer, but he couldn’t. The need to have her was too great. ‘Is it such a shock? You know that I want you.’

She glanced at him, her eyes taking in his torso and drifting downwards until she realised what she was doing and looked away again. She wanted him, too. Whether she admitted it to herself or not, she was tempted to accept his offer.

‘I’m not certain that I understand.’ She whispered now, as if worried they might be overheard. ‘How would the arrangement help me?’

‘You would be under my protection. I would compensate Godric so that he would not force a marriage on you. You would stay in Alvey until I make my home elsewhere.’

‘And I would...?’ She swallowed visibly. ‘I would...?’

‘Share my bed, see to the care of my clothing and supplies, all the things a wife would do. In return I would provide for you and protect you.’

‘And what about after?’ She finally looked back up, meeting his eyes.

‘After?’

‘I believe that such arrangements are not permanent.’ It was too dark to see clearly, but he would have sworn her face had reddened.

The truth was that he hadn’t thought that far into the future and he’d never kept a woman beyond several weeks before. This would be something new for him. Shrugging, he said, ‘I would reward you for your loyalty and leave you with enough to see you well until...’

‘Until I find another protector.’

He gave a short nod, not at all liking the thought of her with another man. By the time that happened, however, he would likely have tired of her.

After a pause, she said, ‘Lord Vidar would never allow it.’

He shook his head. ‘He might not prefer it, but he would relent.’

Aevir was certain that he could gain the Jarl’s cooperation as long as her father and betrothed were compensated. They would be the biggest hurdle to the arrangement and he wasn’t at all certain he could overcome their objections. But he was willing to try...for her.

‘Aevir,’ she said and then paused to take in a breath. ‘I believe you know that I... I favour you very much.’

Her gaze dipped as she admitted that and the urge to crush her to him was nearly overwhelming. Instead, he grinned and said, ‘I know that you do. Give me an hour in my bed and you’ll have no more hesitation.’ He had no doubt that he’d overcome any objection she had.

A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her lips. ‘If your kiss is any indication, then I believe you. But I’m afraid it’s only a temporary solution. Once our arrangement ended, I’d be back in this position.’

‘How?’

‘My family would disown me if I accepted such an arrangement, leaving me obliged to accept the suit of any man who offered. What if there were no other man I favoured?’

‘I would hardly leave you destitute. You would receive a generous settlement,’ he explained.

Her face jerked to the left as if something about that had hurt her. ‘You speak of it so coldly.’

He let his fingertips come to rest on her cheek, unable to keep himself from her. ‘There would be no coldness between us, Ellan,’ he whispered.

‘Nay, I know that,’ she said, her gaze coming to rest on his. He only realised then how much closer he had moved towards her. Her breath touched his. ‘And that’s my fear. It would be too devastating in the end.’

He wanted to kiss her, to reassure her in some way, but he couldn’t. His heart pounded and blood rushed in his ears. She was right. It was why he should turn away right now and leave her behind. ‘Ellan...’

Something shifted in her eyes and she straightened her spine. His fingers dropped to his side. ‘Thank you for your generous offer,’ she said. ‘But I find that I would prefer marriage and the permanent security it would provide.’

It was no less than he had expected, but still the bitter tang of disappointment touched the back of his tongue. He meant to leave it, instead he said, ‘The offer is open if you change your mind.’

Her lips parted, but no words came out. He took advantage of her loss of words to ask what he should have asked before offering her the position of his concubine. Questions he had meant to ask when he found out she had spoken to Godric. The fact that he was willing to have her regardless of that potential threat was testament to how far he had fallen under her spell. The pull she had on him was nearly irresistible and he couldn’t explain it. He didn’t know her, but it felt like he was supposed to know her.

‘You’ve heard the rumours about your father plotting with the Scots?’ At her nod, he continued, ‘Do you know anything about that?’

‘Nay.’ She gave him a bitter smile. ‘Believe me when I say that I would be the last person he told if he was involved with the Scots.’

If what she said about her relationship with her father was true, then he could believe that. Still, he pressed onwards, looking for some point of weakness in her assertion. ‘But do you suspect that he would?’

The conflict she suffered was plain on her face. ‘I’m not certain. I suspect that he’d go to any length to fight you. He despised the Danes before...but his hatred deepened when my mother ran off with one.’

‘Ah.’ It was a piece of the puzzle he’d yet to place about Godric’s supposed rebellion. ‘I suspected his hatred ran deeper than that of a warrior fighting for his home. When did she leave?’

‘I was a child still.’

The shadowed look that came over her face told him there was much more to the story, but he wouldn’t press. The less her knew about her personally, the better it would be for both of them. He had begun to suspect that being near her would affect him far greater than he had originally intended.

‘A man from your village, Osric, was found meeting with the Scots a few days ago. Many see this as evidence that your father is involved, too. What do you think?’ He stared at her face, looking for any signs of lying.

‘Osric wouldn’t have approached the Scots on his own, but what you’re saying is...well, it would mean Father is guilty of treason. Do you think Father would do that?’ The distress on her face looked very real.

‘I don’t know Godric well enough to say with certainty.’ But he would have bet everything he owned on the fact that the man was involved with them. He was less certain about the man’s daughters, however. ‘He’ll be questioned about his involvement very soon and then we’ll know the truth.’

She seemed unsettled, but there was nothing about her expression that suggested complicity. Perhaps Rolfe was right about the sisters after all.

‘I should get inside.’

He nodded and stepped to the side. ‘Goodnight, Ellan.’ She murmured a reply and hurried away towards the hall. He didn’t say it, but if Godric was found guilty, then Rolfe or even Jarl Vidar would become her new guardian. There was every chance that her betrothal would be cancelled. If she spent the winter in Alvey, Aevir knew that he would have her in his bed before the spring thaw.

Before he had to leave to marry his own Saxon.

* * *

Ellan hurried to the alcove bedchamber she had shared with Elswyth until her sister’s marriage only days ago. It was a tiny space that held a narrow bed, a small table and a stool. Once, Ellan had thought it tiny and cramped, but it had seemed vast and lonely ever since Elswyth had moved to Rolfe’s chamber. She hadn’t realised how she would miss her sister’s calm and reassuring presence until she was no longer there every night. How Ellan wished that Elswyth was there now. She would crawl into bed and pull the blanket over them both as she told her what Father had said. Perhaps she would even share with her Aevir’s shocking proposal.

A curtain separated the alcove from the rest of the upstairs area. Ellan went to tie it closed behind her and let her gaze linger on the shut door of her sister’s room. The need to talk to her was nearly overwhelming, but Ellan managed to control it. Elswyth was married now. Not only that, but she had had her own confrontation with Father tonight about her marriage. She needed time alone with Rolfe.

A feeling of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach since Elswyth’s wedding. At first, Ellan had been ashamed of herself for being anything but happy for her sister. Now, as the hollow grew bigger, she understood what the feeling was. It was fear that she was losing the one person she had always been able to trust.

The one person who loved her.

Blinking against the sting of tears, she tied the curtain closed and went through the motions of changing into her nightdress and taking down her hair before plopping down on the bed and curling up under her blanket. Times like this made her miss her mother. Sometimes when she closed her eyes, lay very still and tried very hard, she could almost remember the weight of her mother’s hand on her head, stroking her hair as she fell asleep. Ellan was never quite certain if it was an actual memory or something she had made up to comfort herself as a child.

What would her mother tell her to do? Unfortunately, she hadn’t known her well enough to say. What would Elswyth say? She had a sinking feeling that her sister would advise her to marry the man Father wanted her to marry. Ellan couldn’t shake the feeling that this man would be hardly better than Father in his opinions of the Danes. In her time serving Lady Gwendolyn, Ellan had grown close to her. She couldn’t imagine submitting to a marriage that would see her on the other side of a potential Saxon/Dane battle in Alvey. Father was wrong in his hatred.

Was Aevir right in that Father could be taken prisoner soon? Would that mean the betrothal wasn’t valid? Should she take Aevir up on his offer in case it was?

Heat swept through her at that thought. Deep down inside herself in a place she hardly knew existed, she hadn’t found Aevir’s proposition to be abhorrent. She wanted marriage and a family of her own...but she also wanted to know what it would be like to lie with him. To be protected by him. To belong to him.

Pulling the blanket up to hide her face from her wicked thoughts, she tried to drive the memory of his intense stare from her head. It didn’t work. Being alone made him much more vivid in her mind. The way he had towered over her outside the hall after Elswyth’s wedding, for instance. Had he been someone else she might have felt intimidated or even afraid, but because it was him she had felt protected, even cared for, though that sentiment was absurd. He wanted her in his bed, not his heart. She wasn’t a complete dolt when it came to men.

Why then did she feel this inexplicable draw to him and the promise of more lurking beneath the surface?

That thought, along with those of her uncertain future, left her unable to find a peaceful sleep. When she finally drifted off it was to unsettling dreams of both her father and Aevir.

* * *

It seemed that she had only just found sleep when strange sounds from below brought her awake. She lay in her bed for a moment, wondering if she had imagined them.

Nay, they were real. Several voices from the main room rose up to where she slept. They were urgent, but she was too groggy to untangle the meaning of the Norse words. Boots hurried across the floor, moving back and forth. Something was wrong. It couldn’t be morning yet.

Her eyes felt grainy as she rubbed them and sat up to untie the curtain. Danes were below, appearing to finish a quick meal of pottage and leftovers from the night before. The door to the outside opened, revealing a sliver of dark grey as a warrior hurried out. It was too early in the morning for this much activity.

Grabbing her blanket, she wrapped it around herself as she hurried to Elswyth’s room. When no one answered her knock, she pushed it open to find that the room was empty. Her heart sank as a heavy feeling overcame her. Something was dreadfully wrong. Perhaps Father had taken off with Elswyth. She could think of no other reason her sister wouldn’t be in her bed at this hour.

The need to know sent her hurrying to the chamber Lady Gwendolyn shared with her husband. The door was cracked, so she pushed it open.

‘Lady Gwendolyn?’

A serving girl sat just inside the room, bringing a finger to her lips for quiet and glancing towards where their baby, Tova, slept.

‘Do you know what’s happening?’ Ellan whispered.

The girl shook her head and closed the distance between them. ‘Nay, the Lady sent for me only moments ago. I believe she’s at the stables with Lord Vidar.’

Her worst fear was confirmed—why else would they be at the stables at this hour? Ellan thanked her and hurried down the stairs to the main room. Men scurried around as they finished their meal and donned their armour. Much fewer now than a few moments ago when she had first looked down. Most of them seemed to be outside—she could hear the horses being brought out, their hooves stamping the frozen morning earth.

Fear thrummed through her veins as she thought of her sister being forced from the man she loved. Had Ellan done this? Would it have happened if she had stayed with Father last night and agreed to leave with him?

From the corner of her eye she caught a movement that seemed familiar. Aevir stood beside a table, a bowl in front of him with the dregs of his quickly eaten meal, stuffing a pouch with more food. He wore the leather tunic he always wore when he was travelling, except he was also wearing chainmail. His sword was at his side, ready to be strapped to his back.

‘Aevir, you’re leaving?’ She hurried to his side.

He glanced at her, sparing a moment to take in the fact that she wore only a nightdress and a blanket. No doubt her hair was a mess from her unsettled sleep, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that at the moment. Going back to packing the food away, he said, ‘I’m tasked with putting an end to the Scots trespassing once and for all.’ At her puzzled look, he explained, ‘We’ve received word that Scots were sighted between here and Banford.’

Relief swept through her and she nearly sat down as a breath left her body. This was nothing to do with her sister and Father after all. ‘Oh, I thought...’

He paused and his gaze settled on her face. ‘What?’

Shaking her head, she gave a half-hearted smile and said, ‘It doesn’t matter. Travel safely. I’m certain of your victory.’

He flashed her a grin that made her belly flip pleasantly as he closed the flap on the pouch and tied it off. ‘I’m glad to have your confidence.’

‘Will you come back?’

He shook his head. ‘Not for a bit. After finding the trespassers, my men and I will guard the border until deep winter sets in.’

This might very well be the last time she saw him with her future so uncertain. She wasn’t sure where she would be in a few weeks. A sense of loss welled inside her. She wanted to say something profound, something that would let him know her feelings, except her feelings were that of an infatuated farm girl and would probably be an embarrassment to them both.

‘Have you seen Elswyth?’ she asked instead.

His brow furrowed as he ducked into the long strap attached to the pouch, leaving it to rest at his hip. ‘No one has told you?’ he asked.

Shaking her head, she said, ‘You were the first person I spoke with since coming downstairs. What has happened?’ She found herself grabbing his forearm, as if holding tight to him could keep anything bad away. ‘Has Father taken her?’

‘Nay. Ellan...your sister has left.’

Longing For Her Forbidden Viking

Подняться наверх