Beyond the Sea Mist

by Mary Gillgannon

  “I will wash.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But you must leave first.”

  “Nay. I’ll stay and watch you.”

  “I have to relieve myself. Do you also wish to watch me do that?”

  She knew a sense of satisfaction when his face flushed with embarrassment. Aye, that was the way to be rid of him.

  “There’s a chamber pot in the other room. Under the bed. I’ll wait here until you are finished.”

  Curse him! He had answer for everything. She walked stiffly into the other room and stared at the bed. Now, what should she do? If she stayed here, he would eventually come after her. With the bed right there, it would be far too easy for him to...

  She took a sharp breath. It was too much to endure. She had to fight not only him, but her own desires. A lump of emotion built in her throat. She felt the tears coming. No matter how hard she fought them, she couldn’t keep them from seeping from her eyes.

  She sat down on the bed as the waves of anguish washed over her. Even when she angered Magnus, he managed to remain calm and considerate. It wasn’t fair she couldn’t have him, that she dare not give in to her feelings. She loved him, there was no doubt of it. The thought of never seeing him again filled her with a grief so sharp it was like a knife to her belly.

  Yet, she must not forget her duty...her duty...

  “Ailinn. Sweeting. What’s wrong?”

  His tender words provoked even greater despair. She cried harder. When he sat on the bed beside her and put his arms around her, the tears became a flood. She put her face against his chest and sobbed.

  He held her until her weeping began to ease. Eventually, embarrassment overtook her distress. She pushed away from him and went into the other room to wipe her face and nose on the drying cloth.

  When she looked up, he was there. He looked so big and solid...so wonderful. She wanted to collapse into his arms and let him hold her forever.

  The pathetic direction of her thoughts almost shamed her into crying once again. What was it about this man? She’d never met anyone like him before. He looked so powerful and fierce--and he was, when it was necessary. But underneath that brute masculinity, he could also be gentle and kind. She’d met a man she believed could make her happy for the rest of her days. And—somehow, some way—she must give him up.

  She took a breath, fighting the wretched tears that threatened once more. At last, she had the composure to face him. She met his gaze. “I love you, Magnus. I wish it weren’t so, but ‘tis true. Yet, even though you are dearer to me than anyone alive, I can’t ever give you what you wish. I can’t be your meek, compliant thrall. No matter where you take me or how kindly you treat me, I’ll always seek to return to Ireland. I have no choice. I have a duty to avenge my family. It may make no sense to you. You may never understand how a woman could feel this way. How I burn with hatred toward my enemies. A hatred so fierce that it consumes me, leaving me with very little to give you, or anyone else.”

  She touched her belly. “Even if your seed should grow inside me and produce a child, I fear I couldn’t love it as I should. For always, I would be thinking of how I must return to Ireland and take back my family’s lands and kill those who stole them away. Even if I knew for certain I would die doing these things, I would still have to try. ‘Tis in my blood. I’m a Donovan. My ancestors were warriors and kings. I must not shame them.”

  Despite the grim things she was saying, all Magnus could think of was how magnificent she looked. So proud and determined. So bold and defiant.

  He’d been a fool to think he could possess something so rare and fine. Women like Ailinn weren’t destined to end up as the concubine—or even wife—of a farmer’s son. She was meant to wed a king, or at least a jarl.

  But what was the difference between a jarl and someone like him? It was only wealth, and the power that came with it. And he had wealth now. Two ships and a decent amount of silver. There wasn’t any reason he couldn’t wed Ailinn. Except for what she’d just told him. He would always come second to her goal of returning to Ireland and reclaiming her heritage.

  If she were a man, he would be in awe of her fortitude, her single-mindedness. But why should he feel any different because she was a woman? If he accepted that her pride and determination was part of what he loved about her, why should he condemn her for what he would find noble and worthy in a man?

  He smiled at her. “I love you, too, Ailinn. And admire you. If you were a man, I would be in awe of you. But you’re a woman.”

  He felt the fire race through him even as he said the words. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. Even being captain of a fine ship. He had that, and it was nothing compared to his yearning for Ailinn.

  He looked her straight in the eyes. “I understand that you can’t forsake your plan to avenge your family. And so, I’ve decided what I must do.”

  Chapter 18

  Ailinn’s heart pounded with dread and expectation as she watched Magnus. Had he decided to sell her after all, so she wouldn’t bedevil him any longer? Or, perhaps he’d take her back to Ireland. She wasn’t certain it mattered what he decided. Either way, her heart would be shattered. Either way, she would lose him. She swallowed hard, fearing what he would say.

  He took a step toward her. “I'll take you to Ireland.”

  Even though it was what she wanted, Ailinn felt her insides clench with despair.

  “And I'll stay with you there for awhile,” he continued. “You need a strong warrior to fight for you. I’ll do my best to help you regain your family’s lands.”

  Ailinn stared at him. He was an exceptionally generous man, but this...this was too much. She couldn’t let him risk his life and give up his dreams for her. “Nay,” she said. “’Tis not right. ’Tis not your battle.”

  He took another step nearer. “You have no say in my decision. Since this is the only way I can ever hope to make you happy and content, this is what I must do.”

  She felt the tears threaten once again. Despite his harsh tone, she knew his decision for what it was—a gift of love.

  “Magnus...I...” What could she say? How could she respond to such an amazing offer? Then another thought came to her. “’Twill be very dangerous. It’s possible—even likely—you’ll be killed. I couldn’t bear that.”

  He raised his brows. “And you think I could bear to lose you? Perhaps we’ll both die. Perhaps not. If we use the wealth I have left to hire warriors to aid us, we might have a chance.”

  “But what about your crew? What about the Dragonsbreath and the Seawolf?”

  Magnus shrugged. “The ships mean less to me than you do.”

  Ailinn knew a sense of amazement. How had she been fortunate enough to have this fine man fall in love with her?

  “For that matter...” Magnus began to pace. “Some of the crew might decide to join in the fight. Many of Croa’s men are more warriors than seamen. If they knew they might obtain a share of the spoils...” He stopped pacing and met her gaze. “If we defeat your enemy, then we can claim his land and property—isn’t that true?”

  “Aye,” Ailinn answered. “I want only what belonged to my family...and also to see MacTighe suffer the same fate as my brothers and father.”

  “Land and property should be more than enough to tempt some men, especially those who’ve been sailing the seas for many years.”

  Of course, Magnus thought, there would be men like Vibold who knew nothing else but being a seaman. They would never agree to live on land. But the others... A plan formed in his mind. He would offer the men the choice of joining his warband or staying on the ships. But someone must take charge of the vessels. Whom could he trust? Orm, certainly, but he didn’t know if his friend would want the responsibility. Orm was more a follower rather than a leader...

  But those decisions could wait. This was the night he’d dreamed of for so long, and he wasn’t going to waste it thinking about practical details. Now that he’d given Ailinn what she wished, t
here shouldn’t be any obstacle to enjoying each other a while longer. As he allowed himself to contemplate the delights ahead of them, his gaze fell on the food and he realized how hungry he was. Their lovemaking had been strenuous, and he hadn’t eaten for many hours. He motioned to the table. “Let us eat.”

  She nodded.

  He pushed the bench by the bathing tub over to the table and gestured for her sit down. Then he went into the other chamber and put on his trews. When he returned, she was daintily chewing on a piece of the roasted fowl. “There’s also cheese seasoned with garlic,” he said. “And curds with bilberries.”

  “And fresh bread,” she said, gesturing. “You don’t know how wonderful this is, Magnus. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten well.” She made a face. “Croa hardly gave us anything but saltfish and water.”

  Magnus sat down beside her and began to eat. The food tasted delicious. But even more satisfying was the look on Ailinn’s face. He poured her some wine in the other beaker. She lifted the beaker, but rather than drinking, stared at it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “’Tis beautiful,” she said. “Such a pale green, like sunlight on pond water.”

  “Have you never seen glass before?”

  She shook her head. “Where does it come from?”

  “They make it somewhere in the south.” Magnus searched his memory. “There’s a settlement called Agrippina that’s well known for it.” He lifted his own beaker, and admired the way it reflected the light of the candles. “Odd to think that something so rare and beautiful could be made from something common and ordinary.” When Ailinn gazed at him quizzically, he added, “Glass is made out of sand. Somehow they heat it until it turns clear. Then the craftsman blows into it to make the shape.”

  “The Norse of York must live very well,” Ailinn said. “Even the kings in my land don’t have such fine things.” She took a swallow of the wine and nodded approvingly.

  “The source of Norse wealth is trade. The man this house belongs to is far away right now, seeking out new luxury goods he will sell here in York and elsewhere.”

  “Is that the life you sought? To be a trader?”

  “Aye. Although I thought it would take me many years to save up enough silver to purchase even a small trading ship.” He smiled at her. “I have you to thank for my good fortune. If not for you I would still be a hired crewman on Sigurd’s ship. Instead, I possess two fine vessels.”

  “Which you may well end up losing if you go to Ireland to fight for my family’s lands.” Her expression was grim.

  He shrugged. “I like the freedom of the sea, but having observed the men who live out their lives on a ship, I’m not certain it’s for me. If I were my father’s eldest son and had a claim to his lands, I probably would have been content to stay home and farm.”

  Was that true? Magnus wondered. There was a part of him that had always sought out adventure. Would he be happy with a settled life?

  He looked at Ailinn and decided that he would. With her at his side, he believed he could be happy anywhere. “Although I’ve seen little of Ireland except the eastern coast, I’ve heard many tales of how rich its lands are. Rich enough to provide us with a good living, if we can regain control of what MacTighe stole from your family.”

  Ailinn nodded and took another bite of the delicious bread spread with cheese. It was difficult to believe her fortunes had turned around so completely. She’d gone from being the captive of cruel Croa to being rescued by this exceptional man. Magnus had risked much for her, and was willing to risk even more. What if he were wounded or even killed while fighting MacTighe? He would have given up everything for her.

  That he was willing to do this for her sake was amazing. She would have to repay him somehow. A smile quirked her mouth. She knew exactly how to do it. As soon as they were finished eating, that is.

  They devoured all the food, then drank more wine. Ailinn had enjoyed the beverage only a few times before, at special feasts and celebrations. But even she could tell this was very fine stuff—rich and sweet, and near as potent as mead. Her whole body felt warm and languid. When she looked over at Magnus, she saw he also appeared very relaxed. His eyelids drooped and his smile was lazy.

  “Perhaps we should take the rest of our wine into the other room,” she suggested.

  “Aye,” he agreed. He got to his feet and picked up their beakers.

  “I’ll join you in a moment,” she said, wondering if he would be willing to leave her alone.

  He didn’t hesitate, but immediately started toward the door to the other chamber.

  Ailinn got to her feet. Going to the bathing tub, she lifted the shift and quickly washed off the remnants of their lovemaking in the now tepid water. As she moved the bath cloth over the tender flesh between her legs, she could feel herself becoming aroused. Despite a slight soreness, her body was ready and eager for more of Magnus’s attentions.

  But it was she who would attend to him this time. She must repay him for all he’d done for her. Unfortunately, she had limited knowlege about pleasuring a man. She would have to try different things and see what he liked. The thought of it brought a smile to her lips.

  When she entered the bedchamber, he was lying on the bed, naked and clearly ready for her, his phallus thrusting upwards spectacularly. She stared at him, her mouth going dry as she contemplated what was to come. To ease her apprehension, she focused her gaze on his face. His eyes were heavy-lidded and a slight smile curved his well-shaped lips. She recalled his delightful kisses and started toward the bed.

  “Your shift,” he said. “Take it off.”

  She gave him a teasing look. “What if I don’t wish to?” She glanced down at the glistening white fabric. “’Tis so pretty and so very, very soft, like swans’ down.”

  “That’s why I chose it,” he said. “It reminded me of your skin. There were many other fine garments I could have purchased for you—perhaps we’ll go back to the shop and buy some of them before we leave York. But I liked the idea that you would wear this shift next to your naked body.”

  She wriggled slightly, enjoying the feel of the fabric against her body, grazing her nipples and gliding over her buttocks.

  “You torture me,” he said with a grin.

  She cocked her head and gave him a sly look. “’Tis merely the beginning. Before the night is over, you’ll be my thrall.”

  She wasn’t certain why she’d said that. Her plan had been to offer to do whatever he wished. But somehow this felt right. She moved closer to the bed. Although there was no music, she pretended she was dancing. Small, subtle movements. Arching her back so her breasts thrust against the shift. Raising her arms and moving her body from side to side. She turned and shifted her hips so her hair swung back and forth in a slow rhythm.

  “Mmmm,” he muttered. “Take off the shift and do that.”

  She felt a twinge of embarrassment at the thought of how she would appear, her naked buttocks displayed to him enticingly. But she had decided to please him.

  Still swaying, she grasped the lower portion of the shift and pulled it over her head. Flinging it aside, she continued her dance. As she moved in a slow circle, she began to feel hot all over. Her breasts ached with the awareness of him looking at them. Between her legs, she was throbbing and wet.

  She tingled with amazement at what she was doing. It must be the wine. Her thoughts seemed vague and blurred, yet all her senses were heightened. The smell of food and wine lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle scent of Magnus’s skin. She was keenly aware of the way he looked as he lay on the bed. The raw masculinity of his features. The rippling planes of muscle in his upper body. The light brown hair that swirled around his nipples and continued down his belly. His long legs sprawled across the blanket. The ruddy rod of flesh that rose up from between them.

  The sight made her mouth go dry and filled her with a deep yearning. She wanted to be joined with this man. She wanted...

  He must be dreaming, M
agnus thought. Surely this could not be Ailinn the haughty princess dancing naked before him. She looked so beautiful. Her fair skin glowed and her vibrant hair shimmered with red-gold lights. And her body—so graceful and lissome and yet so lushly female. His breathing came fast and his loins tightened with excruciating arousal. He wasn’t certain how long he could endure this—to look but not touch. He fought to savor every detail, to burn this image upon his memory so he would be able to recall it forever. No matter what happened, they would have this night. He meant to love this woman every way imaginable. Before dawn came, he would know her body as well as he knew his own. “Come closer,” he urged.

  Ailinn realized there was no way she could get closer without climbing on the bed. Recalling how he’d straddled her, she took the same position, kneeling between his outstretched legs. Arching her back, she continued her slow, languid movements. She felt his gaze on her breasts, and she brought her hands to them, cupping the soft flesh so the nipples jutted out. She could feel her aureoles forming tight, throbbing peaks. His nostrils flared in response and his muscles in his face clenched in a fierce expression.

  She shifted her hips back and forth and moved her hands down her body, caressing herself. With her fingers, she outlined the curve of her ribcage, the shape of her waist, the contour of her hips. Then, boldly, she brought her hands down to her legs. She stroked her thighs, then slid her legs wider apart and placed her hands on either side her maidenhair. Widening her stance even more, she leaned backwards, displaying her intimate parts.

  She heard his breath catch. His breathing quickened. She wondered how much longer he could bear for her to tease him like this. For that matter, she wasn’t certain how much more she could withstand either. She ached with desire. The tension had built inside her to an explosive level.

  In a last daring move, she brought her hands between her legs and placed her fingers on either side of her womanhood. She could feel the swelling heat of the petal-like folds surrounding the wet slit between. As she remembered how he had kissed and sucked her there, she met his gaze, offering herself. This was her gift to him, her repayment for all he had done for her.