‘No. You are more use to me alive. All the same, it is a beautiful sword.’
‘It is called Dragon Tooth.’
‘An apt name.’ Elgiva laid the weapon back where she had found it.
‘So it is,’ he agreed. ‘It was wrought by a smith of great renown among my people. He made it for Lord Ragnar, and he gave it to me.’
‘A handsome gift. He must have favoured you highly.’
‘He was like a father to me.’
Elgiva looked at the sheathed blade and thence at Wulfrum. The blue gaze that met hers was implacable. Elgiva shivered. Suddenly a lot of things had become clearer.
‘And when King Ella slew Ragnar, you sought to avenge his death.’
‘Of course. I swore the blood oath along with his sons. With my sword brothers. It was a matter of honour.’
‘A matter of honour to slay King Ella, perhaps,’ replied Elgiva, ‘but to slaughter the innocent too?
‘Kings are not as ordinary men. The decisions they make fall on all their subjects for good or ill. When Ella threw Ragnar into the snake pit, he not only murdered a great warrior he added grave injury to that insult—a warrior must die with a sword in his hand or he cannot enter Valhalla. Ella denied him that right and in so doing he sealed his own fate and that of his kingdom.’
Elgiva bit her lip, knowing there was more than a grain of truth in his words. Besides, for years Northumbria’s rulers had been involved in petty disputes. Had they only joined forces, the Vikings might have been repelled. As it was, the land was overrun and its people conquered. Guessing the trend of her thoughts, Wulfrum frowned.
‘There is no use repining. What’s done is done.’
‘Indeed, but do not expect a conquered people to enjoy their situation.’
‘I do not, but I expect to be obeyed.’ Wulfrum’s voice was quiet, but every word carried weight. ‘The conquered must bend to the yoke.’
‘Aye, my lord, for who would dare do other?’ The tone dripped sarcasm.
‘I think you are not conquered, lady.’
Elgiva glared at him. Undismayed, he let his gaze travel over her appreciatively. The pelt she had wrapped about her left her arms and shoulders bare and stopped short mid-thigh, revealing a shapely pair of legs, and he was reminded of those other more intimate places beneath. He resisted the temptation.
‘Come, do not deny it.’
‘Whatever you say, my lord.’
‘The man who would be your lord, Elgiva. Only I think another stands between.’
Genuinely puzzled, she could only stare at him.
‘Don’t pretend you don’t understand. I refer to your former betrothed.’
‘Aylwin?’
‘He.’
‘How can he stand between, my lord? He is gone.’
‘And yet you have not forgotten him.’
‘No. How could I?’
‘Then you were fond of him,’
‘He was a good man. I respected him.’
‘More than that, I think.’
Elgiva began to feel uneasy, wondering at the tenor of his questions.
‘He was a friend of my father’s. Since his death, Lord Aylwin considered it his duty to help our family.’
‘Indeed. And what of your brother?’
‘He died in a hunting accident two months ago.’
‘And yet the neglect I see around this estate goes back further.’
‘Osric had no interest in anything save his hawks and his hounds.’ She hesitated. ‘You have seen how things are at Ravenswood. I could not bear to see it so neglected. The only way to change things was to marry a man who would restore the place to what it was when my father was alive.’
He heard the sadness in her voice and understood. He too knew what it was to lose a father. Yet her brother must have been a wastrel indeed, to let so fair an estate fall into rack and ruin. In that moment he had an insight into her predicament and knew it would have been hard on a woman alone.
‘So after your brother’s death you were left alone.’
‘Save for Osric’s sons,’ she replied. ‘The children whom Sweyn would have murdered.’ The contempt was clear, but he could understand it.
‘Did your brother make no attempt to find a husband for you?’
‘No.’ She did not qualify it, hoping yet to keep the conversation away from Aylwin. ‘I told you, he had no interest in the matter.’
‘Very remiss of him.’
Elgiva felt her blood race, more than ever aware of that searching blue gaze. Why should he care about her relationship with Aylwin?
‘A woman alone would find herself in an unenviable position,’ he went on. ‘Particularly a beautiful woman with wealth and land.’
‘I did not choose the circumstances.’
‘No. What woman would?’ He paused. ‘You would seem to have been fortunate in your friends.’
‘As you say, lord.’
‘But this Aylwin was much more than a friend, was he not?’ The blue gaze grew warmer. ‘You loved him, didn’t you?’
He saw the momentary flicker of surprise on her face and knew a moment’s triumph. His guess had been right, then. Her reluctance for him stemmed from her love for another.
‘Some marriages are made for love, my lord,’ she replied, ‘but precious few.’
The irony was pointed and his jaw tightened in response.
‘True,’ he replied. ‘And yet that has never been grounds for a wife to deny her husband.’
‘You think I denied you because I loved Aylwin?’ Elgiva wanted to laugh, but it caught in her throat like a sob.
‘Is it not so?’
She shook her head, unable and unwilling to explain. Wulfrum smiled grimly.
‘Then let us put it to the test.’
Without warning, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed, spilling her on to the coverlet and pinning her there with the weight of his body, clamping her wrists in strong hands. For a moment he was silent and Elgiva remained quite still, waiting, praying, striving to keep her breathing even, to ignore the pleasurable warmth along the length of her skin. It seemed as if every part of their bodies touched. If he pressed his advantage now, she could not stop him. For a fleeting second she wasn’t even sure she would try. Appalled, she pulled herself up abruptly. He was the enemy. There could be no warmth between them.
Unable to follow the thoughts behind the smooth brow, Wulfrum frowned. For all that they afforded pleasure, women were subtle and devious creatures, not to be trusted like men. Elgiva’s golden beauty made her more dangerous than most. He knew that she had told him some of the truth, but he was not naïve enough to think she had told him everything. However, it answered some of the questions that had been puzzling him in the past few days. He would discover the rest by and by. In the meantime he was in a highly desirable position.
Elgiva saw his expression change and tensed beneath him, putting up a token resistance to the kiss he took next. His mouth on hers was gentle, but it would not be denied, forcing hers open, demanding her response. It seemed to go on for a long time. Then he drew back a little, looking into her face.
‘Give yourself to me, Elgiva.’ The tone was more a plea than a demand, his voice husky with desire. Her body tensed further. Seeing her expression, he masked disappointment with mockery. ‘No? I thought not.’
She met his gaze and tried to ignore the dangerous thumping of her heart.
‘I will never give myself to you.’
The blue eyes burned. ‘Did you give yourself to Aylwin?’
For a moment she was thrown. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was jealous. It was tempting to lie, to tell him she had belonged to his enemy, but somehow she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.
‘No.’
‘He was a laggard, then.’
‘He showed restraint out of respect. I cannot expect you to understand.’
‘I understand, all right—you didn’t want to bed him.’
Her cheeks grew warm, partly for the accuracy of that shot and partly for the assurance with which it was delivered.
‘Come, admit it.’
‘I admit nothing except that I loathe you,’ she retorted.
If she expected him to become enraged, she was mistaken.
‘No, you don’t.’ He smiled and reached out, taking a lock of her hair between his fingers, testing its softness. ‘And you will come.’
Her jaw tightened. Did this arrogant barbarian think she would fall into his arms just because he willed it?
‘You are thinking you will never do that, isn’t it so?’
The blush on her cheeks was sufficient answer and his smile widened.
‘Never is a long time, Elgiva, and time is all on my side.’
Then she felt his weight shift and she was no longer pinned. In trembling relief she massaged her bruised wrists and watched him leave the bed to cross the floor and retrieve her gown. Then he tossed it to her. She caught it awkwardly.
‘Put it on.’ He saw the fleeting expression of surprise in the amber eyes. ‘Yes, I’m letting you go—for now.’
Nothing loath, Elgiva rose and struggled into the gown, conscious the while of his watchful gaze, but she could think of nothing to say. Then, having dressed, she moved to the door. It was still closed and the wooden bar heavy and awkward. As she struggled to lift it, Wulfrum moved. Two large hands covered hers. Elgiva froze. Had he changed his mind? She looked up at him to find out. The mocking smile was back, but he lifted the heavy bar. Weak with relief, Elgiva swallowed hard. However, he held the door closed a moment longer.