Marrying Her Viking Enemy

by Harper St. George

  The tender flesh of her throat worked as she swallowed. Her pulse was a soft beat at the hollow where it met her shoulder. He wanted to nuzzle that depression and lap at it with his tongue.

  ‘Do you truly feel that’s possible?’ From her tone he could tell that she was moments away from telling him aye.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then I—I think that I could see myself as your wife and it wouldn’t be so bad. Except...’

  ‘Except what?’

  ‘I’m afraid to feel more for you than what I already do. When my mother left...it hurt me deeply. I hesitate to open myself up to that pain again and I wonder why you would want me when there are so many other women who would have you.’

  ‘That’s only because you don’t see yourself as I do.’ A fierce need to possess her came over him. Her lips parted on a nearly inaudible gasp as he stepped closer, slowly walking towards her. With each step she moved back until she came up against the wall. ‘You’re a desirable woman, Saxon. Beautiful, kind, fierce when you need to be.’ She blushed and glanced away. ‘And you must know that if we were wed, I would never abandon you.’

  Her gaze darted back to him, wide with an odd fear. ‘I suppose I don’t know that.’

  He cupped her cheek in his palm. ‘If you were mine, I would never let you go.’

  ‘If...?’

  He let out a soft laugh. ‘I admit that I cannot let go of the doubt that you carry Godric’s hatred for us within you.’

  ‘I... I do not. I wanted to, but I can’t.’ She shook her head, and a tear fell. It landed on his wrist and they both looked down to see it shimmering there on his skin. Without even thinking, he brought it to his lips, letting the salt tingle on his tongue.

  ‘Of course you can’t. Hate is not in you, Elswyth, no matter how hard you try.’ He wanted to leave it at that, but he had to know for certain. ‘Have you given your father information about us?’

  She didn’t even hesitate in her reply. ‘He sent me to spy, but I have not seen him since. When he comes I’ll tell him the only logical conclusion from what I’ve seen: We must join with the Danes. To do anything else would be disastrous.’

  None of that was a surprise, but relief lightened the weight on his chest none the less. ‘Have you met with the Scots?’ He sent up a silent prayer to all the gods he knew that she would tell him nay. As long as she had not betrayed them then he could have her. He still didn’t know how he’d have her while keeping his heart away from her, but he’d manage it. He had no other choice.

  ‘Nay...’ She hesitated and looked away.

  He touched her cheek again. ‘But your family has?’

  She gave him a slow nod.

  ‘It’s not a betrayal to tell me that.’ He soothed her. ‘We’ve long suspected their meetings.’

  She swallowed hard and before he could say anything else, she pushed his hand from her cheek only to throw herself into him. Her arms wrapped around his waist and he pulled her against him, closing his arms around her. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in her sweet scent. She felt perfect against him, her softness filling in all the hard planes of his body.

  ‘Why can’t things be simple?’ Her voice was muffled against his shoulder.

  ‘They can be, Saxon.’ They would be, he decided. She was no spy, not really, and one day she would find out about Banford and what he’d done there. One day soon, probably, but by then she would be his. He didn’t fool himself that the knowledge would be inconsequential; only that in the end she would be happy things had turned out the way they had.

  ‘How?’ She looked up at him with shimmering eyes. Emeralds. They were like the deepest, darkest emeralds he’d ever seen. He determined then and there that if they wed he’d find her an emerald some day that matched her eyes.

  ‘One choice at a time. Would you have me as your husband if your father bid it?’

  She held his gaze without wavering as she said, ‘Aye.’

  ‘Then you have to decide if you’d have me if he tells you nay.’

  She dropped her gaze to his chest and he could sense the panicked tension within her. ‘I struggle with being disloyal to my family. After my mother left, well, I suppose I’ve spent my life trying to prove that I’m not like her. That I won’t betray them. This feels like betrayal.’

  Holding her closer, he lowered his voice. ‘It’s not betrayal to want peace.’

  She took in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes.

  ‘You don’t have to decide now,’ he whispered, running his palm down her back. ‘Think about it, but know that if you have me I will protect you always and you will want for nothing.’

  ‘And what of my family?’

  He swallowed thickly, knowing that what he wanted was within his grasp and unwilling to say the wrong thing to have it taken away. But neither could he lie to her. ‘Betrayers will not be tolerated, but I vow to you that I will treat them fairly.’

  She gave him a wry grin. ‘You would treat them fairly even if I did not become your wife.’

  In that moment, he realised something profound about her. She would not take him to simply better her own life. She needed something more, something for her family to push her over the edge. It endeared her to him even more—however, he could not turn his back on traitors, even if they were her blood. ‘What would you have from me?’

  ‘Meet with my father and talk to him. Give him a chance to take your side.’

  It was so simple. No jewels or gold required. She asked him for things that were so easy to provide her. Yet, a vain and undeniable part of him wanted her to want him without conditions, so he said, ‘I vow to do that even if you tell me nay.’

  She smiled and it was so blindingly beautiful that he could only stare at her, taking in her loveliness. ‘Thank you, Dane.’

  He couldn’t help but smile at the word that had somehow become an endearment between them. ‘Don’t answer me now. I want you to think well before you tell me what you’ve decided, so we’ll have no morning sessions for two days. On the third day, I’ll come for your answer.’ She nodded and, unable to resist, he bent his head to whisper into her ear, ‘If you tell me aye, know that I will spend our nights together using my tongue on every part of your body,’ he promised, alluding to the kiss that had brought her to his chamber tonight.

  Her fingers clenched in his under-tunic and she let out a little breath of surprise, followed by a breathless laugh. The sound awakened the beast sleeping within him. He wanted to toss her on to his bed and show her what he meant. To spread her open beneath him and plunder the sweetness between her thighs.

  ‘Kiss me again before I go,’ she whispered.

  Unable to deny that request, his lips brushed across her cheek on the way to her mouth. She turned to meet him, her soft lips pressing to his. He took them hard beneath his, the fierceness of his mood driving him to show her exactly what would be waiting for her if she told him aye. He’d try to be tender with her, but she stirred a longing in him that was too intense to be dampened. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she parted her lips to accommodate him and made a sensual sound when he touched his tongue to hers. All it took was one tentative stroke of her tongue against his to bring him to full arousal. His hands tightened on her hips to pull her closer, practically grinding himself against her. It wasn’t nearly enough and he was on the verge of taking her to his bed when he forced himself to pull away.

  Panting as if she were as affected as he was, she smiled at him. It was the daring and mischievous smile he’d come to associate as being a part of the very fibre of who she was. She stretched up on her toes and gave him one last kiss to his cheek before hurrying from the room, leaving him there gasping for air and wanting her with a madness he’d never felt before.

  Not even with Hilde. Gods help him.

  Chapter Twelve

  By the end of the
first day Elswyth had made her decision. By the end of the second day she had admitted that decision to herself. It hadn’t come as a certainty, but as a creeping and crawling suspicion that choosing not to marry Rolfe was unthinkable. Both he and Ellan seemed to think things were simple, so she had resolved to follow the advice he’d given her. Make one decision at a time.

  Her first decision would be to marry him. Her second one would be how to tell her father about it. He would disapprove. Nay, he would despise her choice. She knew it as well as she knew that Rolfe would do everything in his power to make her a happy wife. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told him that she’d watched how he interacted with those he cared about. He might be a Dane, but he had a kind soul and he would make her a good husband.

  If only her father would see it that way. She’d need help to tell him, which is what had brought her to Lady Gwendolyn’s chamber. An afternoon snow had driven many people inside, and Lady Gwendolyn had disappeared to her chamber a little while ago with Tova. Elswyth could hear the baby squealing in delight from behind the door as she knocked.

  ‘Come in,’ Lady Gwendolyn’s voice called out.

  Elswyth stepped inside to see the lady seated at the table in the chamber, smoothing out a gown she was attempting to embroider for her daughter. Everyone knew that Lady Gwendolyn was the best archer in Alvey, but her skills with the needle were lacking. Elswyth found it admirable that it was a deficiency she was trying to rectify.

  Lord Vidar had been lying on the large bed across the room, tossing his daughter into the air which was the source of her squeals of delight. He stopped when he noticed Elswyth and sat up with Tova in his arms. He held the infant with a tenderness that brought an ache to her heart.

  She thought with a start that if she followed through with her plan to marry Rolfe, she might have her own child by this time next year. Happiness warmed a spot in her chest and she knew that she was making the right decision in her choice of husband.

  ‘Apologies for disturbing you, my lady, my lord, but I wondered if I might talk to you? Alone.’ The last she directed at Lady Gwendolyn.

  ‘You’re not disturbing us.’ Lady Gwendolyn smiled and seemed very happy to toss her embroidery to the side.

  ‘Not at all,’ Lord Vidar added as he rose. ‘I suspect my wife is happy to be distracted from her needlework.’

  Lady Gwendolyn laughed and said with mock tenacity, ‘I’ll conquer that needle if it’s the last thing I do.’

  Lord Vidar gave her an indulgent smile and held Tova against his chest as he bent over to press a kiss to his wife’s forehead. ‘Leave it. You don’t have to learn embroidery if you don’t want to.’

  ‘But I do want to. It just won’t co-operate.’

  He laughed and shook his head as he left with the baby, closing the door behind him.

  ‘Might I see, my lady?’ Elswyth asked as she came to stand beside the table.

  Lady Gwendolyn nodded and handed her the gown with the partially embroidered hem.

  ‘It’s much improved. I can see you’ve started taking note of the pacing we discussed.’ The lines were straight, but the stitching itself was of irregular lengths, but it was better.

  ‘Aye, it’s coming along. I think the trouble is that I’m not accustomed to sitting still for this long. It takes patience that I’m afraid I don’t have.’

  ‘Nonsense, my lady. You have plenty of patience. Look how you taught me to shoot an arrow.’

  Lady Gwendolyn inclined her head. ‘I’m afraid that’s an entirely different kind of patience. Besides, it’s action. Working with thread is simply too tedious for me to enjoy, but I will conquer it before I set it aside. Now...’ she took the gown back and set it along with the thread back into the basket she kept on the table ‘sit down and tell me what you need.’

  Elswyth took the bench on the opposite side of the small table. ‘I’ve come to a decision.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I’m going to marry Rolfe.’

  The woman brought a hand to her mouth, but a smile lurked behind it. ‘Truly?’

  Elswyth nodded and gave her an abbreviated version of the events leading up to her decision. ‘The truth is that I can imagine no one else that I would want to be my husband. I think of returning home when my father comes and there is no one there that makes me feel the way Rolfe makes me feel. Perhaps it’s unfair of me, but I don’t want to be a simple farmer’s wife.’ Rolfe had seen so many things, been so many places, she wanted to spend the years of her life talking and learning about those places. But more than that, she wanted more of how he made her feel.

  ‘I don’t think it’s unfair of you at all. You’ve found someone who is special to you. That is rare and I’m glad you’ve decided to try to hold on to him. I’m even happier that it will mean you will stay here. I’ve become quite fond of you while you’ve been here.’

  Elswyth felt her cheeks turn pink. ‘Thank you, my lady. I’ve come to like it here as well. However, I am concerned with how to proceed. I’m certain you’re aware of the potential issue with my father. I can’t imagine that he’ll agree to this match.’ Would he perhaps even turn his back on her? The very idea made her heart stutter. It wasn’t out of the question, however, because her own mother had done just that. She didn’t know if she could stand losing both of her parents, so she focused on the fact that she was doing this to further peace and save lives.

  Lady Gwendolyn nodded in agreement. ‘Aye, I expect him to put up quite a fuss. However, I know this is the right choice for you, and for Banford, though he’ll be too stubborn to see it at first.’

  ‘At first? Do you think he’ll eventually come around? I don’t want to lose him.’

  ‘I do. It will take time and it won’t happen overnight, but it will happen. Your father cares for you, Elswyth. I don’t think you’ll lose him.’

  Elswyth smiled, the weight of her choice starting to slip from her shoulders for the first time. ‘How do you think we should proceed? Tell him when he arrives and talk him into agreeing to the marriage?’

  Lady Gwendolyn shook her head and for the first time her smile slipped. ‘Nay, I’m afraid that won’t work. I’ve given it some thought—oh, don’t look at me that way,’ she teased. ‘You know how I hoped you’d say aye. I’ve been thinking of how to approach this ever since. I think the only way forward is for you to marry as soon as possible. That way, you won’t have to go against your father’s wishes to marry. He won’t like it, but at least we avoid the situation where he tells you nay and you have to defy him.’

  ‘I can see the wisdom of that, but what happens when he arrives and I am wed?’

  ‘Lord Vidar and I will talk to him.’ Reaching across the table, she patted Elswyth’s hand. ‘We can plan for that a little later, don’t worry. Right now we must plan for your wedding. Have you spoken to Rolfe?’

  Elswyth shook her head. ‘He’s given me a couple of days to think about it. The last time I saw him was two days ago.’

  ‘Ah, that’s why he hasn’t been at the table the past two evenings. I thought you both had quarrelled.’

  Elswyth could feel her face burning again as she thought of their last moments together. That kiss had been anything but a quarrel. She could hardly fathom what he had meant by using his tongue on her body, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said.

  ‘So we should have the wedding soon then?’ Excitement leaped in her belly at the very thought.

  ‘Aye, as soon as possible. Ordinarily, we’d plan something, but I’m afraid, with your father due soon, we can’t wait. There’s every chance that he could come early with the snow falling.’

  The butterflies in her stomach took flight. Rolfe could be hers sooner than she’d dreamed possible. ‘As soon as possible then.’

  Lady Gwendolyn smiled broadly and clapped. ‘How exciting!’

  * * *

 
; Elswyth left Lady Gwendolyn’s chamber a short while later. It was nearly time for the evening meal and she wanted to talk to Rolfe before then. Since her decision had been made, there was no point in waiting until the morning to tell him. Besides, from the open door in the hall she could see that the snow was beginning to stick. They might not even be able to have their practice as planned. She wanted to tell him now and, if she was honest, she wanted to see his face before Lady Gwendolyn or Lord Vidar mentioned it to him first.

  He hadn’t been in his chamber, so she walked through the great hall. Some of the men had started to congregate around the fire, drinking their ale, but he wasn’t among them. Holding her cloak closed, she hurried out into the cold to find him. The wind was strong, promising more cold would be heaped upon them earlier than usual this winter. It had been snowing off and on for days.

  Shivering, she hurried to look for him, finally finding his broad form as he spoke with the blacksmith. She was struck by how jovial their conversation was. Rolfe laughed at something the man had said and laid a hand on the man’s thick shoulder. The blacksmith was a Saxon with bristles of white hair on his head and jaw who was nearing the age when he’d hang up his hammer. He could have hated the Danes like her father did, but here he was laughing with one of them in an easy manner. The sight reaffirmed that she was making the right choice. Saxons and Danes could co-exist peacefully in Alvey and she would do her part to make it so.

  Pulling the folds of her cloak more firmly around her, she came to a stop at the edge of the wooden overhang shielding the forge. The blacksmith saw her first and his attention drew Rolfe’s gaze. He straightened when he saw her, the smile dropping from his mouth as he searched her face for her answer. The blacksmith murmured a greeting, but Elswyth couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to him. She was too drawn to her future husband. The fur he wore across his shoulders made him appear even more powerful than he was. He quite stole her breath away.