Gwendolyn suddenly turned her head away. Her lower lip trembled with emotion, hot tears streaking unchecked down her face. She quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand, but it did little good. Her fair cheeks simply grew wet again.
So, it has been that all along, Anora thought, tears welling up in her own eyes. She knew her sister's pain must be great, for she had rarely seen Gwendolyn cry. She only hoped it was not too late to make amends.
Anora again took her sister's hands in her own, her emerald eyes soft and pleading. "Gwendolyn, listen to me. 'Tis true that I love Wulfgar more than life itself, but that does not mean you hold any lesser place in my heart." Her voice caught with emotion. "Please . . . please share in my happiness, Gwendolyn."
Gwendolyn swallowed hard, overwhelmed with remorse at her sister's words. She had been so selfishly concerned with her own feelings that she had never even spared a thought for Anora's. She could feel the sense of betrayal that had gripped her these past months melting away, replaced by an even deeper humility. Somewhat wistfully, she wondered if she would ever find a love as strong as that which shone from her sister's eyes. Aye, she could only hope . . . She met her sister's gaze unflinchingly. "Forgive me, Anora," she murmured. "Truly, I do wish you well."
Smiling through her tears, Anora hugged her sister. They both began to giggle, out of relief at first, but then with a joyful hilarity that echoed about the small room. A soft rap on the door went unanswered, until finally it grew into a loud, insistent knock. "Come in!" Anora managed to choke out, wiping the tears from her eyes.
Edythe's graying head peeked around the door. Her tone was gruff, but her eyes were twinkling. "If my ladies will only regain their composure, so I may speak," she said with feigned exasperation. When at last they had suppressed their laughter, she went on. "Lady Anora, your mother has requested your presence in the great hall. All is in readiness and your betrothed awaits!" With a wink and a merry smile, she closed the door behind her, then suddenly opened it again. "And that goes for you as well, Lady Gwendolyn!" Then she was gone, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the corridor.
"Oh, Gwendolyn, I cannot believe this moment has finally arrived!" Anora exclaimed breathlessly, her eyes wide with excitement. "Do you think he will be pleased with how I look?" she asked nervously, smoothing the fine pleats of her sapphire tunic.
"You are only the fairest maiden in the land!" Gwendolyn laughed and squeezed her sister's arm reassuringly. "Come, we must not keep the guests—or Wulfgar—waiting."
Hesitating at the door, Anora turned suddenly to look at Gwendolyn. "Tomorrow morning, before the games begin, would you like to visit the grotto?" she asked excitedly. "It would be nice to see it together for one last time, and we would have another chance to talk." She knew how much their secret place meant to Gwendolyn, and she could not think of a more meaningful gift for her sister.
Startled, Gwendolyn smiled in agreement, a warm glow of happiness spreading through her at Anora's thoughtfulness. "Aye, we could leave before sunrise, and be there and back before anyone even notices we have been gone!" she exclaimed.
Giggling brightly at the thought of their adventure, they walked quickly down the corridor, arm in arm.
Chapter 5
"My Lord Godric and Lady Bronwen, you do me a great honor to prepare such a banquet," Wulfgar stated graciously, taking his seat to the right of the earl, at the main table. Situated at one end of the great hall and raised on a dais, the main table overlooked the vast expanse of the hall and the four long tables that stretched across its length.
"The honor is indeed ours," returned Earl Godric diplomatically, grasping Wulfgar's wrist firmly in a gesture of goodwill. Having dispensed with the initial amenities, he nodded for the several hundred guests in the hall to be seated.
Conversation and eager laughter resumed as the lords and ladies, seated at separate tables in the Anglo-Saxon style, made themselves comfortable. The evening promised to be quite a memorable one. The very fact that King Edgar had arranged the marriage of an English noblewoman to a prince of the Danelaw lent a heightened air of excitement to the evening.
The magnitude of the wedding festivities was also a choice topic of furtive discussion. It was clear to the guests that no expense had been spared, fueling the rumors that Wulfgar Ragnarson was as wealthy as he was powerful. The night's feast would be followed on the morrow with a tournament of games and wrestling matches, and would culminate in the wedding ceremony and celebratory feast on the third day.
The festive scene in the large hall was illuminated by great blazing torches and thick tallow candles set in candlesticks of beaten gold and silver. Magnificent tapestries graced the massive timbered walls, depicting fierce battles and deeds of bravery from days gone by. The earthen floor had been swept and then strewn with fresh rushes. Bunches of lavender and sage hung drying from the rafters, their sweet fragrance melding with the pungent smells of roasting venison and fowl that wafted from the kitchen.
Servants rushed to and fro, endlessly filling and refilling goblets from the huge kegs of ale and mead set against the walls. Even a few of Earl Godric's favorite hunting dogs had been allowed to join in the celebration. They lay in wait under the linen-clothed tables, their tails wagging playfully, eager for any stray morsels that might be tossed their way.
Earl Godric looked out over the teeming hall, his expression growing increasingly impatient. "It seems our daughters have seen fit to keep us waiting," he whispered gruffly in an aside to his wife. "By God, Bronwen, if Anora has changed her mind at this late hour . . . !" Unable even to consider the possibility, he quickly turned his attention to Wulfgar, who was inscrutably observing the crowd of guests.
Aware of the flirtatious glances being cast his way by several bold ladies at a nearby table, Wulfgar averted his gaze to find the earl regarding him closely.
"Humph! Lord Wulfgar, I take it your needs and those of your men have been seen to adequately?" Slightly embarrassed, Earl Godric wondered if he would ever become used to the fact that his daughter's soon-to-be husband was a Dane, and a powerful one at that.
Surmising the earl's thoughts, Wulfgar smiled faintly. His features relaxed. "Aye, more than adequately, my lord," he replied, a twinkle in his eye. What an understatement! he thought fleetingly. Eager to please, the earl's lusty servant girls had amply seen to his men's needs all afternoon!
Wulfgar looked at his men, who sat at their own table warily watching the festivities. He was glad there would be entertainment during the feast. Somewhat uncomfortable himself amid all these Anglo-Saxons, he could well imagine the thoughts of his battle-hardened warriors as they sat among the people who had been their enemies for the last hundred years. Yet his oath of allegiance to King Edgar was their oath as well, and they were foresworn to maintain the peace. Wulfgar smiled grimly. He hoped that tonight the musicians and jugglers would be enough for a diversion to prevent any provocations or insults between his men and Earl Godric's thanes.
Earl Godric chuckled heartily at Wulfgar's answer, and slapped him approvingly on the shoulder. "More ale!" he shouted.
Lady Bronwen glanced down the length of the hall, but there was still no sign of her daughters. Growing somewhat nervous herself at Anora's delay, she wondered if Gwendolyn might have something to do with it. As much as she loved her daughter, she was very aware of her willful and mischievous nature. She started to rise from her chair to go look for them, when a roar of approval went up from the guests. Spying her daughters at the foot of the stairs, she breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to Wulfgar. "My lord, your betrothed awaits her escort," she announced softly.
Gwendolyn and Anora stood for a moment at the end of the vast hall, blushing at the obvious stir they were causing among the guests. Resplendent in their silken tunics, they were bathed in an ethereal glow from the myriad candles, their silver-blond hair shimmering and catching the light.
Many of the guests, first-time visitors to the earl's stronghold and having only heard of his daughters' legendary beauty, stared awestruck as the sisters began to walk toward the dais. Truly, they made a dazzling pair!
Anora could not tear her eyes away from Wulfgar's tall figure as he made his way toward them. His steel blue eyes, boldly taking in every aspect of her appearance, seemed to devour her. Feeling suddenly as if her heart would stop, she forced herself to breathe steadily. Her memories of him had not done him justice. Sweet Jesu! she whispered to herself. She had never seen him look more strikingly handsome!
His tall, lean body was clothed in a forest green tunic richly embroidered with gold threads. Stretched tautly across his broad shoulders and muscular chest, the tunic fell to his knees, meeting the tops of fine leather boots. Wide gold bands glinted brightly at his wrists, and a heavy gold chain and medallion hung around his neck. At the center of the medallion was a blood-red ruby that sparkled in the candlelight. A wide, metal-studded belt encircled his waist, from which hung the scabbard of his dress sword. Resting one hand on the silver-engraved pommel, Wulfgar looked every inch the virile warrior as he walked toward his betrothed with agile grace.