The Viking's Defiant Bride(31)

Wulfrum glanced down at her.

‘Don’t be afraid, Elgiva. All will be well.’

Sick at heart, she wished she could believe it.



Later she told Osgifu about Aylwin. The older woman heard her in appalled silence.

‘Aylwin should never have come. God send the Danes do not find out.’

‘God send Aylwin has more sense than to lead a revolt. He and his followers would be slaughtered to a man.’

‘True enough.’ She paused. ‘What will you do now?’

‘Nothing.’

Elgiva sighed. If she spoke, she betrayed her people. If she kept silence, she betrayed her husband. Torn between two loyalties, she dreaded the time when she must be with Wulfrum again, acting a part now, pretending that all was well, knowing it was a lie. He was perceptive and intuitive, and, if the act was not convincing, would know immediately that something was amiss. He was her husband and he had in some measure given her his trust. The knowledge that she betrayed it was like a knife in her heart. She could never have imagined it would cut so deeply.



If Wulfrum noted aught amiss in her manner, he said nothing. Indeed, with the warm weather his days were busy anyway. Under his governance Ravenswood began once again to show signs of its former prosperity. The buildings were restored to a proper state of repair, the fences mended, the land well tended. The crops ripened in the fields and the first hay crop was cut. Under proper tending young lambs grew strong and new calves grazed beside their mothers in the pastures. Even the fruit crop would be good, for the branches of the orchard trees were laden. The air was filled with the drone of bees moving among the flowers and the hives. Beyond it all, the forest stretched in a rolling canopy of unbroken green.

The fine weather drew Elgiva out of doors and she and Osgifu did much of their work in the sunshine before the open door of the women’s bower. Several times they went out to gather plants. Wulfrum made no objection to these small excursions, though each time one of his men was never far behind. To Elgiva it was a salutary reminder of the order of things, yet she gave no sign that she found the presence of the guards irksome, and it would have been futile to protest. Instead, she gave her full attention to the task, returning at length with Osgifu to prepare the balms and potions for which they were renowned. Never by word or look did she give any indication that the forest held more significance than its healing flowers and plants.

However, the knowledge of deceit weighed heavy on her and Elgiva found it harder to sleep. She would lie awake in the sultry darkness, her mind racing, listening to the sound of Wulfrum’s breathing, her skin damp with perspiration from his nearness, part of her wanting him to reach out for her and part of her fearing that he might, every nerve alive to his presence. For all manner of reasons the bed was too hot and eventually, after tossing and turning, she would doze for an hour or two and then waken unrefreshed.



Invariably Elgiva woke early with the sun and, one morning, unable to stay any longer in the stifling heat of the room, she left Wulfrum sleeping and dressed quietly. Then she slipped from the chamber and left the hall, heading for the unguarded postern gate. It was always barred, but that presented little obstacle. Thence the way was clear to the forest. The place she sought was not far off, but it was secluded and there the river flowed over a rocky outcrop into a wide pool beneath. The thought of the cool clear water was more than ever appealing and, at this hour, she could be certain of being undisturbed.

The early morning air was fresh and clear, smelling of damp earth for the dew was yet on the grass. It wet the hem of her gown as she passed and soaked into her shoes. Elgiva smiled, making her way unerringly through the trees to the river. It was narrow and swift flowing, and she followed it a little way before coming at length to the pool. Looking cautiously around to ensure she was alone, she slipped off her clothes and waded into the clear water. It was cold enough at first to make her gasp, but its freshness was delightful after the heat within doors, and, taking a deep breath, she plunged in.



Wulfrum woke early and stretched, yawning prodigiously. For all it was early, the heat in the room was already mounting. He rolled over and reached out a hand for Elgiva. The bed was empty. The knowledge brought him to instant wakefulness. A swift glance around the room revealed that her clothes were missing and the door unbarred. In moments he was out of bed and dressing swiftly before making his way down to the hall. Men sprawled on benches and floor, oblivious to his presence. Of his wife there was no sign. Wulfrum strode to the door and looked about, but found no sign of life or movement. Then he noted the unbarred postern and his jaw tightened. He ran to the stable to saddle Firedrake.

A few minutes later he was mounted and heading out on the track that led to the forest. He had guessed immediately which way Elgiva would go and, sure enough, as he left the hall behind and came into open ground, he found her trail in the wet grass. She had said nothing about wishing to collect plants and none of his men was in attendance. It was a matter he fully intended to take up with the vixen when he found her. Holding the horse to a walk, he followed the trail to the river. There he reined in and, studying the ground, found the print of a shoe in the soft earth, a small foot, undoubtedly a woman’s. Certain now that Elgiva had come this way, he frowned, wondering what she was up to. Even after all these weeks she still had the power to surprise and unsettle. Unpredictability was, he reflected, all part of her considerable charm. He let the horse follow at a gentle pace until the dense growth made riding impractical and he was forced to dismount and continue on foot. The narrow path continued on a little way beyond and presently he saw a rocky outcrop and a waterfall with a pool below where a woman was swimming. Wulfrum grinned and moved forwards to a vantage point where he could watch unseen.



It was some time before Elgiva turned for the bank. However, the sun was getting higher and she knew she should return to the hall before her absence was discovered. Wulfrum might take it amiss that she had gone out without one of his men in attendance but, with luck, she would be back before he woke. She waded ashore and was reaching for her kirtle when some sixth sense warned her of another presence. Her head jerked up and with a gasp of outrage she found herself staring at Wulfrum.

‘You!’

He grinned, unrepentant. ‘I.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Looking for you.’

‘How long have you been there?’

‘Long enough.’ Long enough, he thought, to look his fill at that wonderful body. Despite the kirtle she was holding so close, an agreeable amount was still on view and he was unashamedly making the most if it.

A dark suspicion began to form in her mind. ‘You’ve been watching me?’

‘Yes.’

Unable to think of any immediate or suitable reply, she eyed him warily, only too aware of her present state of undress and that his eyes missed nothing. He surveyed her thus for some moments before getting to his feet. Before he had taken two paces Elgiva was struggling hastily into her kirtle, throwing her wet hair back over her shoulders. Wulfrum grinned. He drew closer, making her aware again of the remoteness of the place and that they were quite alone.

‘I missed you when I woke.’

‘It was hot. I couldn’t sleep.’

‘And you managed to get past my guards once more.’

‘I…I thought there could be no danger here.’

‘You will not do it again, Elgiva.’ The words were quietly spoken, but there was no mistaking the implacable tone.

‘Did you think I had fled, my lord?’

‘No. I trust you more than that. But the times are uncertain and the place remote and I would not have you in danger.’

Elgiva was caught unawares, as much by the sincerity in his voice as by the words themselves. The knowledge of her deceit returned with force. However, there was no time for deeper reflection, for his arms were round her and then his mouth closed over hers. As he kissed her, the familiar stealthy flame flickered into being deep within her. She shivered a frisson that was partly the residual chill of the water and partly fear—not of him, but of herself.

Wulfrum felt her shiver and looked down into her face. However, he could not fathom the expression he saw there. Did she fear him still? He wanted her now, wanted her with every fibre of his being, but he sensed a deep-seated unease behind her reluctance. Drawing back, he bent to retrieve her gown. Elgiva put it on quickly but her wet hair became entangled with the lacing and her cold fingers fumbled the task. Wulfrum’s disquieting smile didn’t help in the least. He watched her struggle for a while. Then she felt his hands on her shoulders turning her gently round. He untangled her hair and laced the gown himself. Then he held out his hand.

‘Come, my lady.’

For a fraction of a second he saw her hesitate before placing her fingers in his. Then, together, they retraced their steps along the path to where his horse was tethered. Wulfrum turned her to face him.

‘Ride with me.’

‘There’s no need. I can walk back.’

‘It wasn’t a request.’

The expression in those blue eyes admitted of no argument. He laced his hands and bent to receive her foot, sending her lightly into the saddle. Then he mounted behind her. For some time neither one spoke and the only sounds were the faint footfalls of the hooves on the turf and the creak of saddle leather. Elgiva’s face was much warmer now, partly because the sun was higher in the sky, but chiefly because Wulfrum’s arm was round her, holding her close, and she was annoyed to find that she liked it. Liked the warmth and the strength of him and the scent of musk and leather she had come to associate with him. Now they evoked other more disturbing thoughts: thoughts of his kiss, thoughts of fear and desire. She had tried so hard to hate him, but knew now that she did not.