The Viking’s Touch(25)

 With an effort she kept a hold of her temper. ‘Made because Drakensburgh needs a fair and capable man to govern it.’

 ‘He’s a Viking adventurer, no more. Shall such a man be set above us?’

 His nearest companions began to mutter again.

 ‘That he shall,’ replied Wulfgar, ‘when he is the son of an earl. I am the eldest son of Wulfrum Ragnarsson. My birth is the equal of your former master, my skill in battle well proven.’ He surveyed them coolly. ‘And if you remain at Drakensburgh, you will swear fealty to me.’

 A tense silence followed this, but his words had given them pause. Most lowered their eyes. Thorkil looked around uncertainly. Wulfgar’s blue gaze fixed on him.

 ‘One last thing: I shall overlook your swinish manners on this occasion, but if you ever speak to Lady Anwyn like that again I will personally remove your tongue.’ He glanced at Ina. ‘Get the oaf out of here.’

 Ina nodded, looking coldly upon Thorkil. ‘Aye, my lord. I’ll warrant a dunking in the horse trough will help sober him up.’ He spoke quietly to the men nearest him. They crossed the hall and, seizing hold of the protesting offender, dragged him from the room. No-one made any attempt to prevent it.

 ‘Now,’ said Ina, ‘where were we?’

 ‘Tomorrow I shall hear the oaths of those men intending to stay.’ Wulfgar smiled faintly. ‘In the meantime, let the celebration continue.’

 The conversation resumed and men turned again to their cups. Anwyn let out a long breath. It was over and with less dissension than anticipated. She threw a quizzical look at the man beside her.

 ‘Did you mean what you said just now, about removing Thorkil’s tongue?’

 ‘I never make empty threats,’ he replied.

 ‘I think I would not like to be your enemy.’

 ‘You are not my enemy, Anwyn. You are my wife.’

 The word sent a frisson down the length of her spine. She had been so preoccupied with breaking the news of her marriage that the other implications hadn’t really sunk in—until now.

 ‘You did not tell me that you were the son of an earl.’

 ‘You did not ask,’ he replied.

 Suddenly it became clear how little she really knew about this man. He aroused her curiosity as no other ever had, but would they be together long enough for her to discover the answers?





As the hour advanced and the noise in the hall grew loud, Anwyn rose to take her leave. Wulfgar rose with her. She turned to say something, but the words never materialised as, without warning, she was seized by the waist and lifted into his arms. He strode with her towards the door to the sound of accompanying laughter and cheers. Good-natured ribaldry followed them out into the night. Anwyn struggled ineffectually, her heart hammering in her breast. All too soon they reached the door of the bower. Having carried her inside, he heeled it shut behind them and, setting his burden down, barred it securely. Then, taking hold of her wrist, he led the way to the chamber he had visited once before. He drew her in with him and then pulled the screening curtain across the entranceway.

 For a moment or two husband and wife faced each other in heart-thumping silence. Wulfgar smiled wryly.

 ‘I apologise for the rough-and-ready nature of our departure back there, but I needed to make it convincing.’

 Anwyn stared at him. ‘Convincing? I think it was certainly that.’

 ‘Good. They would not understand else.’

 ‘Understand what?’

 ‘If I had let you leave alone.’

 ‘No. I suppose not.’

 He paused, surveying her steadily. ‘It will be necessary for us to share this chamber tonight.’

 The fluttering sensation in her stomach intensified. ‘Did we not have an agreement?’

 ‘We still do. I’ll not take anything that isn’t freely given.’

 For a moment she wasn’t sure she had heard him aright and then, as the meaning filtered through, that he meant it.

 ‘You don’t believe me,’ he said.

 ‘It is outside my experience that a man should consider my wishes in the matter.’

 He smiled rather ruefully. ‘Have no fear, Anwyn. Your wishes shall be respected.’

 Some of the tension went out of her. Wulfgar looked around and his gaze came to rest on the bed.

 ‘Which side do you like to sleep on?’

 The question took her aback. ‘I…er, the right.’

 He nodded and began to undress. She watched him unfasten his belt and then peel off tunic and shirt to reveal the powerful torso beneath. The lamplight gleamed softly on the silver arm rings that partly concealed the pale lines of old scars. More were visible across his ribs and chest where a line of dark hair led the eye to a tapering waist and long, hard-muscled legs. As he reached for the fastenings of his breeches Anwyn turned away.

 A short time later she heard the bed creak beneath his weight and then the faint rustling sound of the coverlet as he settled himself. She drew a sharp breath and began to unfasten her girdle.

 Wulfgar propped himself comfortably against the bolster, surveying the proceedings on the other side of the room. He saw her lay the gown carefully across the wooden chest nearby. Moments later it was joined by the undertunic. Then only the linen shift remained. The fabric was fine, suggesting the lines and curves concealed beneath. Shorter than the other garments, it also afforded an agreeable view of lower leg and slender ankle, one that he was unashamedly making the most of. He wondered if she would unfasten her hair, but it seemed that was not her intention. To his intense disappointment she crossed to the lamp and doused the flame. The room was plunged in darkness. Moments later he felt the mattress shift as she slid into bed. There followed a small movement as she turned on her side and drew the covers closer. Then there was silence. Wulfrum smiled wryly.

 ‘Good night, Anwyn.’

 ‘Good night, my lord.’

 Anwyn closed her eyes, listening intently, her body tense and waiting. For all his earlier assurances she could not believe that he meant to keep his word. It had all sounded so easy when first the scheme was hatched: a marriage in name only; two people who would inhabit different rooms at night. She had overlooked the obvious, the need to create an effective illusion in the minds of others. Wulfgar had not. Her cheeks grew hot when she thought just how convincing his behaviour had been that evening. None witnessing it could doubt his intention. After all, he was her husband. It was his right to take her whenever he wished. No man there but thought he would prosecute that right. Anwyn grew hot. If he so chose, there would be nothing she could do to prevent it. He was big and frighteningly strong.

 Just for a moment her mind went down that route; the result set her flesh tingling. She knew then that if he reached for her she would not try to prevent it; that some part of her wanted him to. She swallowed hard. It was madness to think like that. This was a business arrangement, nothing more. He had already told her that he could not give his heart, that he would not stay for ever. If she let desire rule her head now, the consequences would be dire; her heart already told her that this man had the power to hurt her badly, and in ways that Torstein never could.

 More minutes dragged by, but still nothing happened, and presently her straining ears caught the sound of slow, regular breathing. Some of her tension faded. He had meant what he said. She ought to have been relieved, but the feeling now was more akin to sadness.





Chapter Thirteen

When she awoke the following morning it was to see that the space beside her was empty. Automatically she reached out and touched the place where he had lain, but the sheet was cool. He had been gone some time then. Of course, there had been no reason for him to stay. Anwyn sighed. Climbing out of bed, she bathed her face and hands and then began to prepare herself to meet the day.

 Having dressed and arranged her hair, she went to check on Eyvind. He was playing with the wooden horse that Ina had carved for him. He looked up and smiled as she entered and then resumed his game. She had a few words with Jodis and then went to the hall to check on the servants. However, cleaning up was well underway by the time she arrived and the trestles neatly stacked along the walls. Anwyn summoned one of the men.

 ‘Do you know where Lord Wulfgar may be found?’

 ‘No, my lady. He rode out this morning with a dozen men. I have not seen him since.’

 ‘No matter.’ Anwyn turned away. Wulfgar had said nothing to her of his intentions, but then she had been asleep when he left. Feeling a little discomfited, she put the matter from her mind and turned her attention to the various household tasks awaiting her attention.





Wulfgar signalled to his escort and then reined in before the gates of Ingvar’s fortress at Beranhold, his practised eye taking in the details of the ditch and palisade that formed the outer defences. Moments later the guard’s challenge rang out.

 ‘Tell your master that Lord Wulfgar desires speech with him. I will await him here.’

 As the man disappeared from view Hermund looked at his companion.

 ‘He may refuse to talk.’