The Viking's Defiant Bride(44)

‘Only yourself.’

They kissed, Elgiva holding him close. Then he buckled on his sword and slid his knife into his belt. The second, slimmer blade was slid into his sleeve.

‘It never hurts to be prepared,’ he said humorously, seeing the direction of her gaze.

Elgiva took a deep breath, her heart hammering. ‘Wulfrum, I must tell you…’

He smiled. ‘Tell me what?’ Then he saw her unwonted pallor and the anguish in her eyes and his smile faded. ‘My love, what is it?’

‘Be vigilant on this journey. I think Aylwin is planning your death.’

For a moment or two there fell a silence so intense that Elgiva could hear the blood pounding in her ears. Throughout, Wulfrum’s gaze never left her face.

‘How can you know this?’

‘Because he…he as good as told me.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘How could he have told you?’

‘After he escaped from Ravenswood he took refuge in the forest but…’ she licked dry lips ‘…he returned.’

‘Returned? When?’

‘After his escape. He came here twice, the last time when Halfdan’s messengers were here.’ She paused. ‘He told me that he planned to unite the rebels and take back what was his.’

‘Did he so?’ Wulfrum was very still, his expression stony as the implications sank in. ‘And all these months you have aided and abetted him behind my back.’

‘No. I urged him to flee and prevent more bloodshed. I had to try. I had no choice.’

His brow darkened further. ‘No choice?’

‘I owed him that much, Wulfrum.’

‘What did you owe me, your husband?’

‘I wanted him to abandon all hope of revenge. I never meant to hurt you.’

‘No? Yet knowing he wanted revenge, you still waited all this time to tell me.’

The tears started in her eyes. ‘Forgive me. I did not tell you earlier because I could not.’

‘Could not or would not?’

‘Both, since you will have it.’ She swallowed hard. ‘There is more.’

Wulfrum remained silent, waiting.

‘I warned him of the plan to seek out and destroy the rebel group. That was why the men you caught were not his.’ Elgiva closed her eyes a moment, waiting for the explosion of rage. It never came, but the calm was infinitely more chilling.

‘Why have you chosen to tell me these things now, Elgiva?’

‘Because I don’t want any more secrets between us.’

‘And I am supposed to trust you from now on?’ The coldness in his voice was worse than anything she had anticipated.

‘I can only beg your forgiveness and ask you to try to understand.’

‘I understand, all right. You love him.’

Elgiva’s head jerked up. ‘No. I have never loved him. I love you.’

He laughed then, a harsh sound as cold as the expression in his eyes. ‘You speak of love! I trusted you and you betrayed me.’ Taking a step closer, he seized her shoulders in an iron grip. ‘How else have you betrayed me with him, Elgiva? What else have you not said?’

She stared at him in shocked disbelief. ‘Nothing. You cannot think so.’

‘Why not? How was it—a passionate woodland tryst with the fugitive lover? It would be a fitting revenge, would it not?’

Elgiva, at first appalled, felt her own anger rising at the injustice of this.

‘That’s not true.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No, and you know it.’

Wulfrum’s eyes glinted. ‘I know only that I was a fool blinded by your beauty. A fool who believed you when you spoke to him of love.’

‘The words were true, Wulfrum, I swear it.’

‘If they were true, you could not have protected him. You could not have betrayed me.’ He paused, his face white with anger. ‘By rights I should kill you now, you faithless whore!’

‘Do it, then!’ Before he was aware of her intent, Elgiva had seized the dagger from his belt and held the point to her breast. ‘If you really believe I have cuckolded you with Aylwin, then it is your right. All you have to do is lean upon the point.’

Her gaze met his, unflinching. In it she read anger and pain, a hurt far deeper than she could ever have guessed. His hand closed round hers and the blade touched her throat. He would kill her, then. Suddenly she didn’t care. She had lost his love and the look in his eyes was more than she could bear. Unheeded, the tears flowed down her face as the silence stretched between them. Then, without warning, his grip changed, sliding to her wrist before tightening with brutal force. Elgiva gasped. The dagger fell to the floor. He flung away from her and retrieved it.

Elgiva lifted a hand towards him. ‘Forgive me.’

Wulfrum made no answer. Casting her a last contemptuous look, he grabbed his cloak and strode to the door. He threw it open with a crash and marched out. In sick horror she heard his receding footsteps and then only silence. Gradually, from outside, the sound of horses’ hooves impinged on her consciousness and she ran to the window. Through her tears she watched in hopeless longing as Wulfrum mounted and moved to the head of the column. Elgiva willed him to look her way as her hands clenched over the wooden sill. Almost as if he sensed the intensity of her gaze, he glanced up once and their eyes met. Her heart skipped a beat. Let him smile, she thought, let him give some sign that he forgave her. His expression was forbidding as he held her gaze for a moment, and then he looked away, touching his heels to his horse’s sides. Elgiva felt her throat tighten. She watched until he was out of sight and then she wept.



Wulfrum rode fast and his men, seeing that flinty expression, left him alone with his thoughts. In truth he had only one: Elgiva. Their conversation had shaken him to the core and the knowledge of her deception turned like a knife in his guts. For a moment back there he had wanted to kill her. He had no idea what had stayed his hand or how he had governed his ire. It burned still and for some considerable time after until eventually fresh air and exercise tempered it a little. Even so, the memory of the scene was bitter. Her look as he left haunted him. His last words to her had been spoken in anger, anger born of pain the like of which he had known only twice before. He wanted to believe it was all baseless, but he had the evidence of her words. Why had she kept silent so long, only to tell him now? Who could understand the workings of a woman’s mind? What traps did subtle beauty lay for the unwary? How could he have been so naïve as to fall for melting looks and tender words of love? And yet she had seemed so sincere. Had she meant any of the things she had said? Once he had thought so, but now…

For a long while he rode thus, his brain a ferment of tormented thought. Then, as his rage cooled and he grew calmer, his mind began to clear. In truth, he had been much to blame for allowing himself to grow too fond, to let beauty blind him. He had known from past experience that loving made a man vulnerable and in so doing he had broken a cardinal rule. His marriage to Elgiva had been made for political reasons by and large, something he had forgotten. Only a fool would think a woman could take an enemy to her bed and love him.



In the days that followed Wulfrum’s departure, Elgiva kept herself busy about her household tasks, but she found herself thinking about him all the time, wondering what he was doing just at that moment. She had no doubt that he would receive a warm welcome from Halfdan and his mind would be filled with men’s business, leaving no time to think of anything else. While their days would be filled with council matters, the nights would be left to carousing. There would be women too, young and attractive and only too pleased to be the object of attention to a handsome earl. And he was handsome, dangerously so. Elgiva bit her lip. So many times she had relived that last quarrel and seen again the hurt in his eyes. He had trusted her and she had betrayed that trust. It mattered not that her motives had been of the best. It was betrayal. Now he had gone with his heart full of anger. Would he seek his pleasure elsewhere? Out of sight, out of mind, the proverb said. For her part it had proven manifestly untrue. Now each day passed much the same as the one before it with nothing to break the monotony. Sometimes she would hear a footfall behind her and turn round, half-expecting to see him there, but it would be Ida or one of the other men. Most acutely she was aware of how big their bedchamber seemed without him. She could not but recall the scenes that had taken place there. Now all that remained was echoing emptiness.

‘You miss him, don’t you?’ said Osgifu. They were sitting outside the women’s bower, spinning. Elgiva’s attention never left the yarn, but a telltale blush crept into her face.

‘Yes.’

‘Well, ’tis only a week he’ll be gone and the time will pass swiftly enough. Then you might regret that it was not longer.’

Elgiva burst into tears. In a moment Osgifu was beside her.

‘What is it, child? What’s wrong?’

Between sobs she managed to glean an account of the events that had preceded Wulfrum’s departure.

‘I wanted things to be right between us, for there to be no more lies. Now I’ve made it a hundred times worse. I have never seen him so angry. He looked at me at though he hated me.’

‘His pride has been hurt and he’s jealous. It’s a dangerous combination, but he’ll get over it.’