My Lord Viking

by Ferguson, Jo Ann

  “If you will not stay with me tonight, I shall not let this moment pass without taking advantage of every opportunity to hold you.”

  “You are insane.”

  “You are not the first in this house to think so.”

  She looked hastily away. If she did not know better, she would begin to think that he could hear through closed doors and read the thoughts that only she was privy to. She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his brawny shoulder. On this one thing, she had to agree with him. To let this chance pass unsavored would be wrong.

  When the rain stopped striking the brim of her bonnet, Linnea opened her eyes. Voices came from every direction as Nils set her on her feet in the center of the foyer.

  “Linnea!”

  She looked up to see Papa coming down the stairs at a speed that would have earned her a reprimand.

  “Linnea! My dear girl! Look at you!” Her father hugged her close. “We were so fearful for you when the storm blew up and no one knew where you were.”

  “Niles brought me home from the shore.”

  When Lord Sutherland grabbed Nils’s hand with both hands, Linnea was amazed to see tears glistening in Papa’s eyes. “I am so grateful to you, Barrington, for watching over my daughter. I thank whatever Providence that brought you to Sutherland Park now.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Nils said, smiling.

  Linnea avoided his eyes. Papa would be shocked to discover that the force that had swirled Nils forward in time had been created by Freya and Loki. She put her hand to her head. Was she beginning to deem all of this silliness to be the truth? She wondered how she could accept that Nils was from the past and still question what he believed was true.

  “By Jove, you should have heeded your wife, Sutherland,” said a man who was coming down the stairs at a much more sedate pace. “She said your daughter knew enough to come in out of the rain.”

  “Barely, I am afraid,” Linnea replied.

  Her father put his arm around her shoulders. “Linnea, this is Dr. Varian Foster, who has just arrived from York. Foster, my youngest.”

  Linnea held out her hand. Seeing water dripping from it, she shook it before offering it again, “May I add my belated welcome to Sutherland Park, Dr. Foster?”

  “Thank you.”

  Her father grinned. “Dr. Foster, this is Niles, Lord Barrington. I know you have been waiting anxiously to talk with him.”

  “With me?” Nils asked, his eyes widening. “Why?”

  “Dr. Foster is an expert in the study of the Vikings. He is very eager to speak with you about all you know.”

  Sixteen

  Linnea stiffened as she glanced at Nils. An expert on Vikings? Here? Now? For the first time, she was tempted to believe that what Nils had told her about Loki was true. Only a vengeful god could have orchestrated Dr. Foster’s arrival at this time.

  She shook such thoughts out of her head. Indulging in such silliness would betray them more quickly than anything else. But the same question heckled her. How could she believe that Nils was from the past and yet discount the fact that any other aspects of his time might have slipped with him forward to her time.

  Nils’s smile did not waver, but she recognized the glint in his eyes. She had seen it on the shore when she found him injured. It had been there as well each time he spoke of the past and the battles he had fought and the vow he had made. Although she doubted if Papa or Dr. Foster took notice of that dangerous shimmer, she tensed.

  “I would be honored to speak with you at your convenience,” Nils said with a bow of his head toward Dr. Foster. “I am glad to meet someone who shares my interest in that subject.” Smiling at Linnea as if there were nothing amiss, he added, “Linnea has proven to be an apt listener when I speak of that time in history.”

  Dr. Foster chuckled. “It is a unique woman who is fascinated with such an intellectual subject.”

  “You will find that my daughter is quite unique.” Papa gave her shoulders a squeeze.

  “Thank you, Papa.” She kissed his cheek, wishing she could confide in him. She had missed his good counsel in this puzzling situation, because she had always been able to ask for his insight before this. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I shall change from these soaked clothes before Mrs. Gerber grows more upset about me dripping on her freshly mopped floors.”

  “Do not fret about that,” her father replied. “Go up to your rooms, and I will have hot water sent for you. You do not want to take a chill.”

  She nodded. Going to the foot of the stairs, she put her hand on the newel post and turned. “Papa—”

  “Do not fret, child. I shall have Mrs. Gerber make sure there is enough hot water for Lord Barrington as well. You know that Sutherland Park treats our guests as family.”

  When Dr. Foster laughed and added something, Linnea paid no attention to his words. She tried to catch Nils’s gaze. He seemed totally engrossed in the conversation. Knowing that she could not loiter here like a naughty child eavesdropping on her elders, she slowly put her foot on the first riser.

  Its faint squeak, so commonplace that she had not noticed it in years, must have caught Nils’s ear. He glanced toward her, and the memory left by the heat of his kisses surged through her anew even though he turned back to answer a question she had not heard Dr. Foster ask.

  She took the glow of Nils’s amethyst eyes with her as she climbed the stairs. Storing the memory in the most treasured section of her heart, she began to strip off Nils’s coat as soon as she had closed her bedroom door.

  Olive came forward to help. She said nothing, which warned Linnea that her maid was not at all pleased with the results of this afternoon’s walk. When Olive stamped about the room as if she were trying to rid it of crawling insects, Linnea was as silent. Anything she said could be the wrong thing. If she showed too much interest in who Dr. Foster was and what he was doing here now, she would arouse Olive’s curiosity.

  Although she would have liked to linger in the warm bath, Linnea redressed quickly. She twisted her wet hair at her nape and nodded when Olive asked if she would like some hot chocolate to chase away any residual chill.

  Linnea waited until her maid had left, then slipped out of her room. She clung to the shadows left by the storm as she walked along the corridor. Hearing Lady Sutherland’s voice from the floor below, Linnea hurried toward the guest wing. She did not want her mother to guess where she was going.

  Her own words to Nils on the shore returned to taunt her. If she was discovered sneaking to Nils’s room, she would destroy the Sutherland family’s reputation as well as her own. She knew that, but she must speak with Nils when no one else could hear.

  Reaching his door, she knocked quietly. She waited, then knocked again. When Jack did not answer it, she looked both ways along the hall before opening it.

  She froze when she heard a voice within. Nils was talking to someone. Jack? If so, why hadn’t Jack come to the door when she knocked? Jack was taking his duties as Nils’s valet very seriously. Mayhap Nils was giving him a list of instructions, and Jack was concentrating on that instead of her knock.

  Her eyes widened when she realized Nils was not speaking English. He must be mad! If someone overheard him...

  A finger tapped her shoulder.

  Linnea nearly bumped into a table by the door as she whirled to see who was behind her. She pressed her hand over her frantic heart when she saw Jack’s quizzical expression. “You startled me!” she said.

  “Forgive me, my lady.” He rubbed one foot against the back of his other leg. “I just wanted to give you a warning.”

  She looked past him, scanning the corridor. It appeared empty, but someone could have seen her skulking here.

  “He does this often,” Jack went on.

  “He?”

  “Lord Barrington. He talks to himself like that a lot. ‘Tis strange, because he uses funny words that sometimes sound like English and sometimes sound like gibberish.” He stared at the floor. “I watched one
time, and he kept looking at the window and talking.”

  “All the time?”

  “No.”

  “Jack!” She remembered what Olive had told her about how Jack was distressed that Nils was acting oddly. Mayhap it had not been just gossip. She had to know for sure. “Please tell me. It might be something left over from his injuries.”

  “Do you think so?” The lad’s smile returned. “You may be right about that, my lady. He did take quite a blow to his head.”

  Linnea listened by the door. “Whatever it is, he has stopped now. While I speak with him, bring some wine to take away the chill.”

  “Olive said she was bringing hot chocolate.” His eyes twinkled.

  “For me. Lord Barrington will prefer something stronger,” she replied with a smile. Olive might be reluctant to play a part in this charade, but Jack reveled in every minute of it.

  Jack turned, then paused. “Almost forgot. This came for you.” He pulled a crumpled page out of his pocket.

  “Thank you.” Linnea’s smile tumbled away as she opened the folded sheet to see Randolph’s scrawl. He would be calling soon. Blast! She did not need the problem of him pestering her for an answer as well.

  “Anything I can do, my lady?”

  She patted Jack’s shoulder. He had been such a good ally through all this. “Get the wine for Lord Barrington.”

  Although she suspected he would have preferred her to ask him to slay some mighty dragon or take on some other great task, he nodded.

  Linnea drew in a steadying breath as she knocked again on the door and pushed it a bit farther open. “Niles?”

  “Come in.”

  Slipping past the door, she drew it closed behind her. She looked about but did not see him. “Niles?”

  “Here,” said Nils as he stepped out of the bathing room. He wore black breeches but nothing else. The dark color accented his bronzed skin and drew her eyes from his tawny hair. Her gaze swept down along his strong chest that had been so enticing against her skin. “I thought you would have been calling before now.”

  “We must talk.” She clasped her hands behind her back. Did he know that the topmost button on his breeches remained undone? A flame coursed up her face, and she tried to submerge the myriad of emotions flooding her. She told herself that nothing mattered except Dr. Foster who might see the truth about Nils Bjornsson that no one else had.

  “I suspected you would wish to.”

  “Now that you are done speaking with whomever you were talking to before.”

  His good humor vanished as his brows lowered in his most forbidding expression. Seizing her arm, he pulled her closer. “You heard that?”

  “I heard you speaking.”

  “Did you see anything?”

  She tried to pull her arm away. When he released her, she was amazed enough to blurt out, “I did not peek into your bathing room if that is what you are asking.”

  “I know that.” His laugh was as stiff as his lips. “If that had been true, you would be that most alarming shade of a new sailor cooked red by the sun on his first voyage.” He finished buttoning his breeches as casually as if he always dressed in her presence. “The color you are now, Linnea.”

  “Stop teasing me! Jack has heard you talking here in whatever tongue you use.”

  He whirled her back to him. His mouth slanted across hers, his tongue probing into her mouth. She fought the enchantment that lured her into softening in his arms as she explored the expanse of naked skin that was separated from her by only the breadth of the water clinging to it.

  “That is the tongue I use,” he whispered as he brushed her neck with eager kisses.

  “You know that was not what I meant.”

  “It is the only one of which you must speak.”

  “Jack is bothered by your conversations with someone who is not here,” she murmured, struggling for every word as he nibbled on her ear.

  “Then he should pay them no mind.”

  “Olive is certain you are mad.”

  “She is right.”

  Pulling away, Linnea stared up at him. “She is?”

  He herded her closer again. “I am mad. Mad for you, unnasta. I want you.”

  “Nils, not here.”

  “Ah, I have ruffled your English sensibilities again.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Give me one good reason why you should not come into the other room with me and be my lover.”

  “Jack will be returning soon with the wine I asked him to bring for you.”

  He laughed. “He will wait if the door is locked. That is not a good reason, unnasta.”

  “Then let me give you a truly good one.” She put her hands up to keep him from kissing her. When her fingers brushed his bare skin, she moaned and brought his mouth to hers. She needed to be held like this. She needed the thrill of his touch and the joy of his soul-deep kisses.

  His voice was unsteady as he whispered, “Are you arguing against or for becoming my lover?”

  “I want...” She ran her fingertips along his stern brows. “I want what you want, Nils, but there is Dr. Foster to consider.”

  He trailed beguiling fire along her neck. “I do not want to consider anyone but you now that you are here where I had only dreamed you would be.”

  “Don’t jest about this.” She stepped back and turned away before the promise of passion in his eyes urged her to toss aside all good sense. “If I had not thought the situation was critical, I would not have...”

  “You do not need me to tell you that you would not have come here otherwise.” He ran a damp finger along her arm. “However, you are more than welcome to play valet for me while Jack is doing a few errands.” When she looked at him, he gave her his most roguish smile. “I knew you would be calling on me as soon as you were done with your bath. Despite your English ways, you seem to find excuses to circumvent them when you feel a need to.”

  She sat on the chaise longue. She tried to keep her eyes aimed at his, instead of letting her gaze wander along his water-jeweled skin. Each drop accented his undeniable strength.

  “I cannot stay long,” she said.

  “So say what you came here to say.”

  “You should leave Sutherland Park posthaste, Nils.”

  He reached for his shirt. Pulling it on, he said, “I know that. I have asked you to go with me to complete my quest.”

  “No, I mean you should go now. Today. Go to London. I will try to join you there as soon as I can, but you should not stay here when you may say the wrong thing and create suspicions in Dr. Foster’s mind.”

  He laughed, closing his shirt and reaching for his waistcoat. “What could I do that would cause any sane man to believe I had lived a thousand years ago and suddenly found myself in this time?”

  “I don’t know. There might be something. You will have to watch every word you say.”

  “As you will.”

  “Yes.”

  “Linnea, you should know by now that I do not back away from a challenge.”

  “This is more than a challenge.”

  “Do not let him worry you.”

  “But he is worrying you.”

  He paused in buttoning his waistcoat. Facing her, he said, “I thought I had hidden that well.”

  “Mayhap you have, but I know how I would feel in these circumstances.”

  “And how is that?”

  “As if, suddenly, I were the prey of a woods-wise hunter.”

  Sitting beside her, he brushed a strand of damp hair back from her face. “Unnasta, one is always both the hunter and the prey.”

  “Mayhap in your time, but not in mine.”

  “No? I think Tuthill’s attempts to court you would have persuaded you that you are the prey, even as you control the hunt.”

  She looked down at her hands, which were clenched so tightly that her knuckles had bleached. When he put his wide hand over them, she whispered, “I try not to think of it that way.”

  “But you are his prey.”


  “I know how to handle Randolph,” she said more forcefully. “What worries me is Dr. Foster.”

  “He has no reason to suspect I am anything other than what I say I am.”

  Linnea came to her feet. “Nils, you are making every effort to pass yourself off as a man of this time and this place.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “You have betwattled my family and friends into believing you are what you say you are, passing off your so-called odd ways as idiosyncracies.”

  “But you fear this Dr. Foster will see my ways as what they are.”

  “Don’t you?”

  He slid his hands up her arms as he drew her down to sit on his knee. “I have thought about little else since the man was introduced to us.” His grin returned. “Except for now when I can think only of how sweet you smell and how soft you are and how much I want you.”

  “Nils!”

  He laughed. “Again you sound like the teacher who is disappointed in her recalcitrant student.”

  “You must realize the threat to you. Dr. Foster is going to ask questions about you and this information that you have been spouting.”

  “Spouting?”

  “Papa has spoken to me of the interesting conversations you have shared.”

  “Your tone suggests I should have been more reticent. It might have been possible if your father’s mind was less keen and his interests less varied.”

  “I know.” She put her hand on his arm, not surprised that it was as rigid as it had been when she had found him on the shore.

  Standing, he set her on her feet. “Don’t you think I recognize that this situation is as dangerous as when I was lying on the beach waiting for death? If I am shown to be a liar in your father’s eyes, I shall be banished from Sutherland Park. Then it will be impossible for you to help me in my quest.”

  “What has been said has been said,” she replied quietly.

  “A wise way of summing up the situation.”

  “So what you must do, Nils, if you will not go by yourself to London—”

  “Going is futile unless you come, too.” He pounded his fist against his palm. “You are right. I have no place to begin the search in London without your guidance.”