Marrying Her Viking Enemy

by Harper St. George

  Glancing back to Lady Gwendolyn and then Vidar, he could practically feel the noose of matrimony tightening around his neck. He wouldn’t shirk his duty, but neither would he welcome it. His only choice was to make certain of the only thing he could control. ‘I would choose my own wife.’

  ‘Of course,’ Lady Gwendolyn was quick to acquiesce. In a softer voice she added, ‘But you would have to choose someone beneficial to uniting our people.’

  He gave a nod, his gaze once again shifting over to Elswyth of its own volition.

  The victorious glance that passed between Vidar and his wife wasn’t lost on him. They had already discussed his marriage, it seemed.

  ‘Thank you, Rolfe,’ Vidar said. ‘You’ll be well-rewarded for your duty. With things to the north unsettled, it goes without saying that sooner rather than later would be best.’

  ‘Aevir will be called to marry as well?’ Rolfe and Vidar had known Aevir for several years. He was a renowned warrior who had fought in the south as the battle had been waged for East Anglia. He’d gained a reputation there for his fearlessness in battle and had gone on to fight for Jarl Eirik for the past couple of years. Yesterday when he’d ridden in with Rolfe had been the first time he’d set foot in Alvey. Rolfe knew the man had vowed never to settle down because of some trauma from his past, so he lived a life that was never settled, always moving from place to place looking for the next fight. Rolfe liked him and respected him, but he found it hard to believe the man was ready for marriage.

  ‘For the right woman it could be well worth it.’ Aevir shrugged. ‘But it’s too early in the day to speak of women.’

  ‘The right woman?’ Rolfe asked, unable to believe his ears. Aevir was actually considering marriage.

  Still smiling, Aevir shrugged. ‘The right lands and riches to be more specific.’

  That sounded more like what Rolfe had expected. Still, the idea of marriage without affection was hard for him to accept. He had pledged his loyalty to Jarl Vidar and would do it if his duty called for it, but it wasn’t what he would choose for himself. Aevir had no such pledge holding him here. ‘And what of the woman herself? Her face?’ Her heart. Rolfe didn’t say that part, but he could not imagine sharing his home and future children with a woman who was cruel or less than honourable. Someone like Hilde.

  ‘What does a face matter in the dark of night?’ Aevir laughed, but when he glanced away there was a hollowness in his eyes. It was the same empty resolve he brought to battle that made him a great warrior. Rolfe didn’t think it would work so well in marriage. ‘Her lands and wealth will suit me much better than a fine face.’

  Rolfe shook his head, but he hadn’t expected anything else from Aevir. The man would sell his hand like he sold his sword, it seemed. He wouldn’t be the first man to do so. Once more he found Elswyth across the field. This time he watched her arrow fly and stifled a smile at her hoot of triumph when her aim proved true. She fascinated him and their banter the night before had come easily and naturally. She wasn’t afraid to challenge him. He had no idea if she’d be suitable based on Lady Gwendolyn’s requirements, but she was the only one who had stirred an interest in him in a while.

  ‘Do you need to find your nursemaid to check your wound?’ Aevir teased, following Rolfe’s line of sight.

  ‘I’d forgotten how insufferable you were,’ Rolfe growled, which resulted in Aevir’s bark of laughter.

  Vidar had walked away to speak with his wife, but stepped up to them now, his gaze roaming across the field to where his wife’s charges practised. ‘Godric will arrive in about a fortnight and I hope to negotiate his blessing for a marriage. I’ve already allotted the silver needed.’

  Elswyth had just landed another arrow in the target while a girl he assumed to be her sister cheered her on. Aevir’s face shone with interest as he watched her, and Rolfe felt the hair on the back of his head bristle in warning. Aevir’s interest in Elswyth alone would have raised his ire, but to have Godric’s name spoken in regard to her did not bode well for Rolfe’s intentions.

  ‘The sisters will be available?’ Aevir tipped his head towards Elswyth and her sister.

  ‘Aye, but only one of them need marry... Elswyth is the eldest. I’d prefer it if one of you marry her. The match will go far to ease our troubles in Banford,’ Vidar added in a low voice.

  Rolfe froze, his hand clenched tight around the hilt of his sparring sword. The girl was Godric’s daughter. When she’d said she was from the north, she meant Banford. She meant the very village he’d put a torch to only two days ago. The very village that seemed to turn out traitors one after the next.

  ‘You would give the traitor silver and allow him to keep his lands?’ asked Aevir.

  Vidar’s brow furrowed. ‘Traitor may be harsh. Remember that we only have rumours that Godric’s been in contact with the Scot King. We’ve seen no evidence. We do know that it will be in our favour to tie him to Alvey with his daughter’s hand. We need him on our side.’

  The very idea of giving tolerance to the man who was likely at the centre of every conspiracy with the Scots didn’t sit right with Rolfe. ‘You can’t deny that Durwin’s presence with the Scots is strong evidence. Everyone knows how close he and his brother were to Godric.’ He knew in his gut that the connection was there. Rewarding Godric’s tricks with a fortuitous marriage for his daughter would not solve their problems. Indeed, such a marriage could be disastrous for all parties involved.

  ‘Aye, it’s a strong indication, but not evidence. We’ll see how he feels soon. He’ll arrive in a fortnight and give his permission for Elswyth’s hand unless he’d prefer to insult his Lady,’ said Vidar.

  ‘Is that why his daughters are here?’ Rolfe asked. Now that he knew who Elswyth was he was shocked to find Godric’s daughters within the confines of Alvey. Shocked because if the man had truly gone against Alvey, his daughters would have been locked within her walls and at the mercy of the very Danes he claimed to despise. The man had to be a fool and she had to be a spy. There would be no other reason for Godric to allow their presence here.

  ‘They’re distant relations of Gwendolyn’s on her mother’s side. Gwendolyn hoped to gain the girls’ co-operation by inviting them here. I’d hoped that since he allowed them to come here, he had accepted that we are here to stay. She hasn’t mentioned marriage to Elswyth yet, but she will now that you’re both here.’

  Both. Thinking of her with Aevir didn’t sit well with him, but he pushed the thought aside to consider the issue of Godric. Sending his daughters to work for his Lady could have been a very solid offering of truce. Or it could have been a very clever way of appearing contrite while using them for his own gain. If Rolfe had to guess, he would assume the latter.

  ‘Which other brides are we to consider and which lands come with them?’ Aevir asked.

  ‘We’ll discuss the properties and dowries tonight. It’s only fair that you know beforehand to help you decide which girl to win over.’

  Aevir shook his head and laughed. ‘Is enticing her necessary? The girl will marry who her father says she will marry, will she not?’

  Vidar grinned. ‘That’s not how Lady Gwendolyn would prefer the marriages to happen. She wants the women to have a say in their choice of groom.’

  ‘It’s only a bride, Jarl.’ Aevir shrugged. ‘What does it matter if she approves or even if I approve of her? Isn’t it merely an arrangement for loyalty and coin?’

  Rolfe and Vidar exchanged knowing glances. They’d had a very similar conversation when it was Vidar arriving to wed Lady Gwendolyn. Vidar had been of a similar opinion.

  ‘The girl must approve of her groom,’ Vidar said again and, like lightning drawn to the highest point on a plain, Rolfe found Elswyth again with his eyes.

  He tried to see her through the eyes he’d had the night before. Eyes that hadn’t known her parentage. The belt around her waist emphasised h
er lean figure, and the curve of her hips. She was soft in all the places a woman should be soft. The blush on her face last night when she’d gazed upon his nudity confirmed her interest in him as a man. If she was a spy, perhaps he’d have better success seducing the admission out of her.

  Once realised, the thought took up residence in his head and refused to leave. As arousing as the idea of having her beneath him was, the task left a bitter taste. If she were a spy for her father, then it would confirm Godric’s intention. And Rolfe would have lost the only woman to challenge him in a long time.

  She let another arrow fly and this time hit the target dead centre. Despite himself, pride swelled in his chest. It was unreasonable that he should feel anything for her already, but there it was. He told himself it was lingering affection for the woman who had tended him last night, the woman who had sparked his interest before he’d learned her true identity. The wind tugged at the hair in her loose braid, sending a few dark strands to fly free across her face. It was actually a very lovely face, with soft lips and gently sculpted cheekbones. When she brushed the strands back, she looked up and caught him watching her, but the distance was too great for him to discern her thoughts.

  Lady Gwendolyn had walked back to the sisters and started working with the other, drawing Elswyth’s attention. Free from her stare, he caught Aevir watching the sisters. ‘Leave her be, Aevir.’

  ‘I rather like looking at the pair of them.’ His friend grinned.

  ‘They haven’t the land or the riches you desire.’

  Aevir stared at him in shock. ‘You’re declaring yourself already, man?’

  Rolfe shrugged. ‘Nay.’ The word sounded weak. He had enough riches from his years of fighting at Vidar’s side to see him well into his old age and he didn’t particularly need or want lands. For whatever reason, he’d liked Elswyth last night before he’d found out who her father was. If she was here with honourable intentions instead of as an emissary for her father and he had no choice but to wed...why not let it be to her?

  ‘Let’s not quibble over women,’ Vidar said. ‘There are more than enough to go around. Besides, Aevir, I need you to go north. Watch Banford. Our skirmish with the Scots is bound to have an effect. If Banford is co-operating with them, they’ll be communicating now.’

  ‘I can go,’ Rolfe offered. He felt responsible for the situation and he would see it through.

  ‘Nay, stay and recover. Right now we’re only watching. You need to be well for the fight, if there is one,’ said Vidar.

  Aevir nodded. ‘Of course.’

  ‘You’ll leave tomorrow. We’ll talk more tonight.’

  Aevir agreed and then left them to finish sparring with some of his warriors.

  Vidar chuckled when they were alone. ‘It’s good that you want her. I only hope she feels the same.’

  Regret twisted inside him. He liked her well enough, aye, but why did she have to come from Banford? Some men married and were able to keep their hearts out of it. Rolfe didn’t think he was one of those men. A few moments with Elswyth last night had already touched him far too deeply. Rolfe knew himself well enough to know that if he allowed himself to become infatuated with her, then his judgement could be compromised. If it had happened with Hilde, it could happen again. ‘Do you not suspect her of being a spy?’

  Vidar was quiet as he pondered that for a moment. ‘Until last night she had barely deigned to speak to a Dane—aside from me—the entire time she’s been here. It seems her father’s attitudes have indeed been ingrained in the girl. I pondered early on in her visit that he’d sent her to poison us with the meals she helped prepare and was gratified when that didn’t come to pass.’ Then he shrugged as if her being a spy was nothing. ‘Let her tell him of our warriors and our power. Perhaps the information will spur him to our side.’

  ‘I would find out the truth of her intentions before marrying her.’

  Vidar was quiet for a moment before finally nodding. ‘How would you do that?’

  Rolfe hardly thought Vidar would agree to seduction. Elswyth was his wife’s relation and under his guardianship, spy or not. ‘I’ll ingratiate myself to her...see if I can get her to open up to me.’

  ‘She’d hardly be a good spy if a little kindness gets her to spill her secrets,’ Vidar said as if he suspected Rolfe’s plan.

  ‘She’s a farm girl. She’ll hardly be experienced enough in spying to mislead me.’

  ‘And if she’s innocent?’ Vidar’s voice was even and quiet.

  Rolfe paused, nearly choking on the words he was about to say. ‘Then I’ll marry her. But if she’s not, then we have proof of Godric’s treachery.’

  ‘It’s a solid plan.’

  ‘I’ll have your word that she’ll be mine and you won’t offer her to Aevir.’

  Vidar grinned. ‘She will be yours, though you’ll have a fight on your hands if she ever finds out about your actions in Banford.’

  Vidar was right. If her loyalty to her family and village was even half as fierce as Rolfe suspected, then she would hate him for what he had done. ‘Then we have no choice but to make certain she never finds out.’

  Chapter Four

  Notch the arrow. Pull back. Focus on the target. Let it fly.

  It was a ritual that quieted Elswyth’s mind and one that she’d come to appreciate. It allowed her to ignore the very real possibility that, with threats from the Scots and possibly the Danes, she’d have to use her newly acquired archery skills in the near future. Lady Gwendolyn and Ellan had moved farther down the field to work on her sister’s aim, leaving Elswyth to her ritual. Ellan was enthusiastic, but lacked the interest required for hours of daily practice. Elswyth, on the other hand, loved losing herself in the steady rhythm of repetitive training.

  She wasn’t surprised that Rolfe came to a stop near her after the women had drifted away. He’d been watching her from across the field for nearly the entire practice. Her traitorous arm trembled at his nearness, forcing her to take in a deep breath to steady herself. He had a large presence and it wasn’t simply due to his size, though that alone would have been intimidating. There was something about him that announced his arrival without him even having to say a word, as if he commanded the very air around him the way he commanded his men.

  She let the arrow fly and it landed just to the left of the centre of her target. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. She had placed the sack fifty paces out, so she’d count it as her furthest success so far. ‘Good morning, Dane.’

  ‘Saxon.’ She didn’t look at him, but the smile was evident in his voice. ‘You’re very good. How long have you been an archer?’

  The next arrow made a soft whooshing sound as she drew it out of the quiver on her back. She took her time notching it, letting her thumb brush over the roughly carved wood as she pondered his question. It was simple enough to answer, but she couldn’t help but wonder why he was asking. Did he suspect something of her? What exactly did he want with her? Had she imagined the way he’d talked with her last night had been a sign of something more than benign friendship he was offering? Was she even capable of leading him down that path in the hopes of gathering more information from him? She wanted desperately to prove her loyalty to her father, but she wasn’t very good at artifice.

  Last night Rolfe hadn’t come out and said anything inappropriate. If anything, she was the inappropriate one. But there had seemed to be something more. Even across the field this morning, when he’d looked at her, there had been an intensity there that hinted at an interest that was more than friendship.

  Why her? Pulling the arrow back, she let it fly to land in the sack, but still outside the target. Evidence of how he unsettled her.

  Dropping her arm, she finally turned to look at him. He was dressed casually today in trousers with a simple tunic, leaving his muscled arms revealed even though the morning air was quite brisk. His dark blond
hair was pulled up again in the barbaric style he’d worn yesterday with ropes of it pulled back from his face and secured at the crown of his head. The dimple in his cheek shone when he smiled at her and it nearly hurt to look at it. How could a man so potentially dangerous to her family appear so attractively virile? The ever-present knot of unease tightened in her belly. ‘I’ve been practising archery only since Ellan and I arrived in Alvey.’

  He raised his chin a notch and gave her an approving nod. ‘You’re a quick learner.’

  He said it as if the trait met with his approval and that approval filled her with pride. Instead of commenting on his statement and facing that emotion, she asked, ‘How is your shoulder?’

  Part of her had wondered in anticipation if Lady Gwendolyn would direct her to tend to him again that morning, while another part of her had been busy coming up with a bevy of excuses that would get her out of the task. In the end it hadn’t mattered, she’d left the little alcove she shared with Ellan at the same time a serving girl had emerged from his chamber. The white hot flair of jealousy she’d experienced had been quickly extinguished and tucked out of sight. What did it matter to her if someone else tended him? It particularly did not matter that the girl had emerged with mussed hair, making Elswyth wonder exactly how long she’d stayed in Rolfe’s chamber and to which part of him she had attended.

  ‘It’s sore but improved.’ His honesty impressed her. Most men she knew would not admit to any ailment. Her older brother Galan had once walked on a broken foot for three whole days before it had swollen so large that his shoe had to be cut off. Only then had he admitted he ‘might have twisted it a bit’.

  ‘Is there any inflammation? Heat?’

  He gave a quick shake of his head. ‘Not any more than there was, but I’m nearly out of the salve you left. Can you can bring more tonight?’

  She stared at him, weighing the risks of agreeing to help him again. There was no denying the fact that helping him would give her a chance to gather information for Father, but her sense of self-preservation warned her away from him. He unsettled her, making her feel interest when she shouldn’t. Yet, she understood that to refuse would rouse suspicion, so she nodded and said, ‘I’ll prepare more for you.’