Surrender My Love

by Johanna Lindsey

  There were, indeed, many servants about, and all of them were men. The few females were inside the hall, but when Erika had her first sight of them, she could have wished there were not so many.

  Golda she knew she was going to like. The older woman introduced herself and the others, and gave Erika a long dissertation on what had been accomplished since her arrival and what she felt still needed doing. There was nothing subservient about the woman, was instead a brassy forthrightness that said she was accustomed to command, yet was she completely respectful in her manner.

  Magge, now, seemed a good-natured girl, if a little too good-natured. The smile she wore never faltered. And she wisely kept from looking directly at Selig while in Erika’s presence. If the girl knew him intimately, she didn’t want the wife to know it.

  Lida, of course, had to be the one Ragnar had felt Erika would want to get rid of, and rightly so. The girl was incredibly lovely, but more than that, her sexual appeal was blatant in the extreme. Even her clothes were revealing, an outer gown split down the front and rucked back into a wide V, and a chainse that was scooped so low the girl’s breasts threatened to spill out. But more than that, her eyes spoke volumes in the way of invitation, and since Erika and Selig had entered, Lida’s eyes had not left him except for a brief, dismissive glance sent Erika’s way.

  To give him credit, Selig wasn’t paying the girl any attention—which meant absolutely nothing as far as Erika was concerned. Ivarr was there to greet him, and he’d moved off to speak with his friend, leaving her alone to meet the women of what was, theoretically, her hall.

  The trouble was, she doubted she would have much say in this hall. There was even the possibility that she would be made to wear those damned chains again, which would leave the servants in no doubt as to how little authority she possessed. But until that happened, or her husband said otherwise, she would go on as if she had a normal marriage, with the normal responsibilities that came with it.

  “Here, now, out with those muddy boots,” Golda was suddenly shouting. “Clean them or take them off, but you will not be tracking that filth across my fresh rushes.”

  Erika turned to see who the culprit was, and was a little shocked to find that the only one who had just entered the hall from outside was Turgeis. He was late because he had taken their horses to the stable, and it was likely in the stable that he had picked up the filth Golda objected to.

  Turgeis merely gave Golda a hard look, then proceeded to do as he had been told. What Erika found amazing was that Golda had not been the least bit intimidated by him, had actually ordered him; to Erika’s recollection, no one besides her had ever done so before.

  Selig had also witnessed the scene and was just short of laughing over it when his eyes caught Erika’s and he kept his humor to himself, deciding she wouldn’t appreciate it about her friend’s scolding. Why he should consider her feelings on the matter he wasn’t sure, though mayhap it was because he was suffering a little guilt over what he had almost done.

  He had planned to free one of the women to be his housekeeper, with authority over the others, and he had done so. He had a wife to supervise the servants now, but this wife he had had no intention of giving any authority whatsoever, or at least that had been his plan. Now he felt uncomfortable with the notion of denying her the rights that were her due. So he decided to say nothing on the matter and see if Erika would take up the reins of the household without his leave. Golda certainly assumed she would do so.

  If he still wanted revenge, and he was not exactly thinking along those lines now, he could keep it on a more personal level. The fact was, the more time that passed since his marriage, the less Selig was able to retain his anger. His good humor was returning instead, in abundance, to the point where he even found Erika’s displays of temper amusing, and he was having more fun teasing her about what he might do, rather than doing it.

  As he watched her mount the stairs, one of the women escorting her, he was glad he had not set the stairs behind a wall, where they wouldn’t be visible from the hall. Her lifted skirt revealed slender ankles and once, twice, a portion of the shapely legs he had come so close to having wrapped around his hips. She was a woman of volatile passions, with fires easily kindled by a man’s touch. How many men besides him had found that out? The thought was absolutely infuriating.

  “Is it revenge you married her for, or do you just want her?”

  Selig turned at Ivarr’s teasing question, prompted because Selig had been unable to take his eyes off her. He was embarrassed to be caught ogling his own wife, and the more so because he had no answer to give his friend. He simply didn’t know anymore.

  “You do not care for your husband?”

  Erika stiffened at the question, which drew her from her perusal of the large bed. She would learn that, like many of the other furnishings, it had recently come from Hedeby. But the bed, suitable for a lord, was not the only thing that told her she had been shown to Selig’s chamber. His coffer was also there, the one that had been carted ahead by one of the Wyndhurst servants, the one that contained his clothes and hers combined—and those damned chains.

  Golda had asked Magge to show her to her room. Lida had interrupted to say she would do it. Neither of the other two women had objected. Erika had thought nothing of it either, though she should have. A woman like Lida never did anything without an ulterior motive, and Lida’s motive could be guessed at. Erika wasn’t inclined to oblige her.

  “Your question is impertinent,” was all she said, intending to say no more.

  “’Tis obvious you do not,” Lida continued, undaunted, her tone almost purring. “Anyone can see that. And we know he was forced to marry you.”

  “He was forced! If anyone was—”

  Erika cut herself off, furious now that she had taken the bait, despite her resolve not to. She was not going to discuss her husband with this woman. But another reason for Lida’s boldness suddenly came to her.

  “My brother, Ragnar, was here yesterday. Did you make his acquaintance?”

  “Nay. I am saving myself for Selig.”

  Erika’s face reddened. So much for her second assumption. The first had been accurate, and there wasn’t much she could do about it when her own position was so in doubt.

  Still, she was the mistress here, for the moment. “That is Master Selig to you.”

  Lida laughed and couldn’t resist bragging a little. “You will find, lady, that I can call him anything and he will not mind. You will also find that he will be spending his nights with me.”

  To say something like that to the lord’s wife guaranteed some sort of punishment—unless it was true. “Get out of my sight.”

  Lida just smiled and sauntered to the door. There she stopped to glance back, not at Erika, but at the room. Her look was positively possessive.

  “Enjoy this chamber for the while, but know that I can have it for myself whenever I like. Whatever I ask for will be given me by your husband. Do not doubt it.”

  Erika didn’t doubt it. And now she knew how Selig planned to further humiliate her.

  Chapter 38

  SELIG WAS TRYING to honor their bargain, he really was, but it was becoming more and more difficult with each passing day. He had given up his room to Erika, knowing he could no longer sleep with her near and not touch her. But he was getting tired of finding other places to sleep.

  And that damned wench Lida was becoming a nuisance with her stalking him and caressing him at every given opportunity, when all he had done was smile at her once in the way he smiled at any woman. He had actually had to tell her he was not interested. And it was true, though it didn’t end her pursuit, since she chose not to believe it. But her sensual brazenness reminded him too much of himself.

  She was lovely, certainly, exceptionally so, but he had known too many lovely women for beauty to make a difference. And he might need a woman desperately, or so his body kept trying to tell him, but Lida’s hair was not sun-kissed gold, her voice did not
remind him of the north countries and home—she was not the woman he wanted.

  And you are the greatest fool to want your own wife when she happens to be Erika No Heart.

  He could not recall the exact day he had given up denying to himself that he wanted her. What else he felt didn’t bear close scrutiny, for the anger was still there and came at the oddest moments, particularly when he brooded about a future with a woman who didn’t possess any tender emotions. Did he want them, then, tender emotions from her? Certainly not. Just her body would do. Then why, when she ignored him as she had done since he had brought her to his home, did her attitude cause him such frustration?

  After a week had passed, Selig reached the conclusion that he would simply have to brazen his way out of the bargain he had made. He could worry about the rest of his problems later, but this main one had to be eliminated.

  He waited until the hall had quieted down for the night, hoping that Erika would think twice about starting a shouting match that would wake the servants. Golda had been allowed one of the rooms abovestairs; Turgeis had been given another. Yet he found Turgeis asleep on a pallet outside the door his wife was behind.

  Selig had not been abovestairs himself this week to know if this was a typical arrangement or not. He was simply infuriated that tonight he would have to go through the giant to reach his wife. There was no thought of turning around and forgetting about it.

  He nudged Turgeis awake with his boot. “If you think to keep me from my wife—”

  “Be easy, man,” Turgeis cut in as he sat up, then stood up. “I am here to protect her as I have always done. If her husband slept with her, then he could protect her and I could find my own bed.”

  Selig was amused by what was clearly reproach. “Just who do you protect her from?”

  “Anyone who would do her harm. Anyone.”

  Selig flushed at the implication. “I have never harmed her.”

  “So she also claims, but there is harm that is not physical,” Turgeis replied, then shrugged. “Your mother asked me to give you time, saying all was not as it might seem between you and my lady. But Erika is not happy here. If you can change that, do so and quickly. Otherwise—”

  He left that threat open, to be interpreted however Selig liked. But he also gathered up his pallet and entered a room down the hall.

  Selig watched him go with some disgruntlement. So he was to be trusted? He doubted it. If Erika called for her giant, Turgeis would come running, and he’d already had a taste of what the man’s fists could do.

  Without further thought on the matter, he entered his chamber, expecting to have to wake his wife. But the men’s voices had disturbed her sleep. She was sitting up in bed, wearing a chainse for modesty, just as she had done every night they had spent at Wyndhurst. He would have to see about having some comfortable sleeping robes made for her. Nay, that was a stupid thought. He would prefer she slept in nothing at all, just as he did.

  She seemed surprised by his appearance. “What do you here?”

  “Is this not my room?”

  “I have not noticed that it is.” The dryness in her tone grated, but the indifference that followed was much worse. “But if you wish to use it as such, I will, of course, sleep elsewhere.”

  “Nay, you will sleep here as well.”

  She thought about that for a moment, before her expression turned mulish. “Then you can make use of the floor this time. I have grown used to the bed.”

  That brought a smile to his lips. She didn’t understand yet why he had come. He was pleased to explain. “And I have yet to try the bed. We will share it.”

  He took a step toward the bed. She threw back the covers and jumped out the other side of it. “Just what do you mean by ‘share it’?” she demanded.

  “You will sleep on one side, I will sleep on the other, and occasionally we will find ourselves in the center of it—together.”

  She didn’t grasp his meaning immediately, but when she did, she gasped. “Nay, we will not!”

  “You married me,” he reminded her.

  “With an agreed bargain,” she reminded him back.

  “That bargain has been satisfied in full.”

  Another gasp. “My part has, but yours has not. You would break your word?”

  He sighed in exasperation. Brazening was not so easy against such stubborn tenacity.

  “Recall your own words, wench. Your demand was that I not touch you afterward. You did not say forever afterward. Afterward was only directly after the wedding and not a day more than that, yet have I given you much more than that. But no more.”

  She was growing alarmed, and her voice rose accordingly. “You twist my words to suit yourself!”

  “Nay, I merely interpreted them differently.”

  “You do this for more revenge. Admit it!”

  His voice turned soft, his expression sensual. “I do this because I want you, Erika, heart or no heart. We can at least have this between us.”

  “You think making love will make things different between us? Do you forget why I am here?”

  He was trying to, but she wasn’t letting him. He didn’t say that, though, didn’t answer her question at all. “Turgeis claims you are not happy.”

  “Ah, now I see. ’Tis your exalted opinion that making love with you will make me happy.”

  He grinned despite the derision in her tone. “It will not make you unhappy, wench.”

  She was afraid he was right, and that was the problem. She had been furious with him all week for flaunting his leman beneath her nose. And now he expected her to forget about that, to lie down and play wife to his husband? Not likely.

  She had spent each night imagining him with that slut Lida, and waiting each morn to be told to move out of his room so he could share it with another. That she hadn’t been displaced yet meant nothing. It could still happen. Or mayhap he thought to share the room with them both now.

  She was seeing red before her thoughts had finished. “I am not interested, so go back to your other women.”

  “I have known no other women since we wed.”

  Since they had met, would be more accurate, but that would have sounded too absurd coming from him, was absurd, especially as he had had ample opportunity. He just hadn’t taken it—because of her.

  “I am to believe that,” she scoffed, “when every time I turn around, that black-haired wench is practically in your lap? Hah!”

  Contempt now, and it had him flushing when he was not at fault. “I never slept with Lida. Ask her—nay, do not,” he amended. “She might lie. You will just have to take my word for it.”

  “Hah!”

  That second “Hah!” got him angry, enough to say, “As it happens, the other wenches are unavailable this eventide. ’Tis not a good time of the month for one, and the other is already taken for the night.”

  “So abstain,” she raged at him. “Can you not go without for one damned night?”

  He hadn’t meant to admit it, it just came out. “As I have gone without for every night since I met you, nay, I cannot go without for even one more night. I am your husband, like it or not. Tonight you will be my wife in every way. So get you in that bed, wench, to await me. Do not make me put you there.”

  He had never taken a woman in anger and wasn’t going to start now. It was not in his nature to be aught but tender with a woman, but he wasn’t taking any chances with Erika. His temper had to cool first.

  He sighed and moved to one of the two windows that flooded the room with light in the daytime. A stool was before one, and he rested his foot on it. Did she sit there often, pining for the life she had left behind?

  The silence thickened behind him. She had not gotten into the bed.

  After a while more, he said, “This can be a new beginning, do you let it.”

  She didn’t answer him, but he did hear the bed creak under her weight. He turned around to see her sitting there watching him. And as he gazed at her, she lay back against the pill
ows. He sucked in a sharp breath. His heart began to pound to a new drum-roll. His body thickened and filled to the passions of the moment.

  His step was hesitant as he approached the bed, fearful that he mistook her actions. Yet she waited; she didn’t move. But he was still nervous, never so nervous, not even with his first woman so many eons ago. He knew not why this was so important, just knew that he didn’t want to frighten her with the feelings that were overwhelming him.

  He should have extinguished the candle by the bedside, but he didn’t. He wanted to see as well as feel again the body that had consumed so many of his dreams. She was so lushly made, his wife. And as he joined her on the bed and gathered her into his arms, he could feel every curve against his own body and knew ecstasy.

  For a while all he did was hold her to him. He was in a ravishing frame of mind, unique for him, but he had it under control, prayed to keep it so. He was afraid to speak; words had never been gentle between them. But without words, he knew not if she lay there resentful, in mere acquiescence, or because she did, in fact, want a new beginning. He could pretend it was the latter.

  Erika didn’t know what to think when he just held her. He was allowing her too much time to reconsider. She shouldn’t have given in like this. It was crazy to hope for something better out of her marriage when there was so much bitterness behind them.

  Yet his anger had reached her. If he hadn’t shouted at her, she wouldn’t have believed him. But she did believe him, and the long abstinence he had claimed made a world of difference to what she was feeling.

  That “I want you” had affected her more strongly than she had realized. Her own anger had masked it, kept it from taking over. But once her anger dissolved with his confession, she was helpless against those feelings.