The Viking's Defiant Bride(29)

‘And providing for his wife.’

‘Yes, that too. One day many of these men will have wives and when they wed they shall have land to farm. There is plenty for all and it is good land, rich and fertile.’

Saxon land, thought Elgiva, but she kept the thought to herself. With this gift he had ensured a good future for Hilda, as well as for her husband. It might yet turn out well. Certainly the matter had been settled more advantageously than she could have hoped yesterday.

Wulfrum sensed a slight softening of her mood. Her body no longer tensed against his arm and, though they regarded him appraisingly, the angry spark was missing from the amber eyes. Now that he was close he could detect the sweet smell of herbs and beneath it the warm scent of her flesh, subtle and arousing. He bent his head and let his lips brush hers. Taken by surprise, Elgiva did not fight. The kiss grew more insistent and her heartbeat quickened as pleasurable warmth swept through her. When he straightened she was pink-cheeked with confusion. Casting a swift glance around her, she could see their embrace had not gone unnoticed.

‘My lord, your men…’

‘Let them watch.’

He kissed her again, slowly, felt her lips yield to the pressure of his and tasted the sweetness of her mouth. Gods, how he wanted her, wanted to throw her down and make love to her till she begged for mercy, but he knew he couldn’t. The damned place was a little too public for that and Elgiva far too shy of him anyway. Reluctantly he drew back, his gaze searching her face. There was a strange expression in those amber eyes, one that he couldn’t quite fathom. What was she thinking? He would have given gold to know. Controlling himself with an effort, Wulfrum slackened his hold.

Elgiva turned away in confusion, shocked by her own reaction to his kiss. The first had been stolen, the second had not. She should have felt disgust, but she had not. On the contrary, what she had felt was stealthy and growing warmth. Almost she had wanted him to kiss her again. The realisation burned as his former words returned to haunt her: You will come. Humiliated by the memory and by her weakness, she detached herself from his arm and turned away.

‘What are you afraid of, Elgiva?’

‘Nothing.’ The assertion was belied by the rosy blush on her neck and cheeks.

‘Liar.’

‘It is the truth.’

‘Is it?’ He drew closer and she saw him smile.

‘I…it’s the herbs. I was but part way through my work when Hilda came in. I must go and finish it. I don’t want the plants to spoil.’

The smile widened, telling more than words of his scepticism and his enjoyment of her evident confusion. However, he made no further move to hold her and she turned and walked away, trying to gather her scattered wits, determined to put as much distance between them as possible and aware the whole time that Wulfrum watched her retreat. And it was a retreat. She acknowledged it to herself. Another few minutes and he would have kissed her again and she would have let him. Recalling the dangerous power of his kisses, Elgiva shivered. She would not allow him to manipulate her again. He wanted her surrender and meant to have it, to conquer her as finally as he had conquered Ravenswood. It was a challenge to him, nothing more, and she would not yield herself up as a prize. Women meant nothing to Wulfrum other than as a pleasing diversion, a distraction, and it seemed she was his latest amusement. To her horror Elgiva felt hot tears prick her eyelids and she hastened into the storeroom before anyone could notice.



Later, when she had calmed down, she cursed herself for her stupidity in seeming to give the incident too much significance. Certainly Wulfrum made no mention of it when they met that evening in the hall, and, if he was angry, he gave no sign. He greeted her with courtesy as she took her place beside him and to her eye appeared quite unruffled by an experience that had shaken her to the core. It seemed to her that it was the practised ease of a man completely familiar with women who took what he wanted and moved on. He might be her husband, but it was foolish to think she could ever mean more to him than any other woman. The only difference was that she belonged to him. He could take her whenever he chose. When she returned his kiss, he must surely have scented victory. Her own weakness appalled her. Had she so little resolution after all, that a man could conquer with a kiss? Elgiva bit her lip. She could still feel the warmth of his mouth on hers. What a fool she was. He would never regard her as anything other than a trophy.





Chapter Ten




As the days passed the brooding atmosphere lightened in the warm sunshine and, as the threat of death and destruction receded, the people in the village began to go more freely about their business again. Now the work was in full swing, for, apart from all the necessary repairs, there were crops and livestock to be tended and the work had to be supervised. Since the steward had been one of those killed in the fighting when the war band struck, Wulfrum needed to find another and soon. He decided to consult Elgiva.

‘Whom shall I appoint?’ he asked. ‘Who seems to you to be the best candidate?’

Recovering from her surprise she gave her answer without hesitation. ‘Gurth. He’s got a good head on his shoulders and he’s hard-working. I know my father always considered him to be reliable and honest too.’

Accordingly Gurth was summoned to appear before Wulfrum in the great hall. A short, stocky individual of middle years, with grey in his hair and beard, Gurth was, nevertheless, an impressive figure, for he had about him an air of quiet assurance. He stood calmly enough before Wulfrum, though he eyed his men with some inner unease, clearly wondering what he could have done to draw such unwelcome attention. He glanced once at Elgiva, though her face gave no clue as to the reason for his presence here, and then listened carefully as Wulfrum spoke. As he heard the words, Gurth could ill conceal his surprise and pleasure.

‘I need a man I can trust,’ said Wulfrum. ‘My wife seems to think you are that man.’

‘The lady honours me,’ replied Gurth.

‘Will you serve me in the office of steward?’

All eyes were on Gurth and, in the brief silence that followed, he was aware of the intentness of their gaze. It was possibly coincidence that several of Wulfrum’s men rested their hands on their sword hilts. However, Gurth was no fool and this was a considerable promotion. It didn’t take him long to make up his mind.

‘I will, my lord.’

Wulfrum smiled. ‘It is well. You will commence your duties immediately and you will answer directly to me. Tomorrow early we will ride out. I want to know every detail of this estate down to the last cow and chicken, the last sack of oats and sheaf of hay.’

‘It shall be as you wish, my lord.’

There being little else to say, Gurth was dismissed shortly afterwards. He made his bow and left the hall.

‘I think he is a good choice,’ said Wulfrum as the man disappeared from view.

‘Well, if he isn’t, I’ll spill his tripes for him,’ replied Ironfist.

Seeing Elgiva’s startled look, Wulfrum concealed a grin. ‘You need have no fear, my lady. If he serves me well, Gurth will thrive.’

‘He will serve you well,’ she replied.

‘Good, for I would have this estate restored to order.’

‘I also. As it used to be when my father was alive.’

‘I promise you it will be so again.’

Elgiva believed him. Already the signs of his rule were everywhere in building and repair work. It gladdened her heart to see it. More than that, it pleased her to know he had asked for her advice and acted on it.

‘Gurth will be a real asset,’ she said. Then, throwing her husband a sideways glance, ‘Would you really have Olaf kill if him if he were not?’

‘Of course. I will have no truck with treachery or incompetence. Olaf here will keep an eye on the man, and he does not suffer fools gladly.’

‘Gurth is no fool.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. In that case he may live.’

Wulfrum caught Ironfist’s eye and the two of them laughed out loud. Realising too late they had been teasing her, Elgiva glared at them.

‘Why, you…’ Words failed her.

Wulfrum’s amusement increased. Elgiva shook her head, annoyed with herself for falling into the trap, and annoyed with him too. Then the funny side of it struck her and she began to laugh, albeit unwillingly. Wulfrum stared at her in surprise and his own laughter faded a little—he had not thought her beauty could be improved. Seeing her now, he knew he had been wrong. Feeling the intensity of that look, Elgiva felt suddenly self-conscious and her own amusement ebbed. It was definitely time to leave.

‘My lord, I fear I am no match for you today. With your leave, I have matters to attend to.’

Disappointed, he nodded. ‘As you will, my lady.’

She nodded to Ironfist and then crossed the hall and made her escape, knowing as she did so that every step was observed.

In fact, Elgiva had not lied when she said there was work to be done and she determined to turn her attention to it now, returning with swift steps to the bower. She entered and heard the door shut behind her. A man, garbed in the manner of a serf, stood in the shadow behind. Elgiva caught her breath.

‘Who are you? What do you want?’

‘Do you not know me, Elgiva?’ He lowered his hood and she found herself staring at Aylwin.