My Lord Viking

by Ferguson, Jo Ann

  The sound rushed through him like the pounding of strength that filled a warrior’s body in the moments before he entered battle. This was the call to rush to a ship that was waiting in the fjord. His comrades would scurry from their cottages, so the hillside was dotted with the light from a score of torches. With each man came his family to wish him good fortune and good hunting on this journey to distant shores.

  It was the call to battle.

  His battle.

  In this place he had visited before but in this time he had never imagined.

  * * * *

  “Do you want to raise a cloud with us, Niles?” Lord Sutherland held out an open box.

  Nils reached for the odd article that he had seen the other men holding in their mouths while they burned one end of it. By Thor’s hammer, he should have asked Linnea to explain what the purpose of the odious smoke was.

  “It may not be as finely rolled a cigar as what the earl is accustomed to.” Tuthill’s cool voice held a challenge, although Nils was not sure what setting fire to a rolled collection of leaves was intended to prove.

  Tuthill should not be pouting like a child. Through the afternoon and even at dinner, he had used every opportunity to turn the conversation to Dr. Foster’s research. The professor had gleefully prattled on and on about his work and peppered Nils with questions. While he attempted to answer them without revealing the truth, Tuthill had ogled Linnea. Maybe Tuthill had expected Nils to retire for the evening when Dr. Foster had. Instead, Nils had joined their host and his son and Tuthill here in the book-room in the hope that Linnea might come to bid her father good night.

  He needed to talk to her. Odin’s words were a warning that there was little time left. They must go to London posthaste.

  “I cannot say what an earl should or should not like, for I have not led an earl’s life long,” Nils said in response to Tuthill’s sharp comment. Nils might as well be honest when he could. Even a hint of the truth might unnerve Tuthill enough to keep him from getting too close to the whole of Nils’s past. “However, I assume that because Lord Sutherland is offering these to us they meet his standards.”

  Lord Sutherland’s brows shot up. “You are only recently in receipt of your title? Who held it before? Mayhap I knew the previous earl.”

  “I doubt that. My uncle was seldom anywhere but at his dirty acres.” He chuckled as he recounted the story that Linnea had devised for him. Determined to stick to the simple facts, because anything intricate might trip him later, he said, “I fear I have inherited more than his title, for he also was fascinated by the past. He traveled often in pursuit of his studies, but only through books. In that way, we differ. I like to see the places I am studying, so I have been wandering throughout this part of the island in search of the sites I have read about.”

  Tuthill took a brand from the hearth and lit his cigar. Holding it out to Nils, he said, “You will find it smokes more easily if you clip off an end first.”

  “Here.” Lord Sutherland took the cigar and snapped a small tool against its end. “You would need three hands otherwise, my boy.”

  Nils noticed how Tuthill stiffened when Linnea’s father addressed Nils in such a friendly tone. “Thank you, Sutherland.” He held the cigar between his fingers as Sutherland did.

  The smoke was acrid. It twisted up and around his face like a savage cat trying to claw its way up through his nose and into his brain. He started to draw in a deep breath, then halted. The odor now was burning in his chest. Holding the cigar up to his lips as the other men did, he began to cough.

  Tuthill sneered, “Too strong for you, Barrington?”

  “A tickle...in my throat,” he gasped, not wanting to admit the viscount was correct. He picked up his glass of wine and downed half of it in a single gulp. It eased the fire in his lungs, but the smoke still curled up and around him from the cigar. Setting it down beside his glass, he stood. “Pardon me.”

  “Are you all right, my boy?” Lord Sutherland asked.

  “I am fine.” That was a blatant lie. “I will return after a visit to the necessary.”

  His host chuckled and waved his hand to dismiss him. “Hurry back. I want your opinion on where best to direct Dr. Foster tomorrow to keep him out of what little hair I have left.”

  “Of course.” Nils walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  Retching, he rushed to the far end of the hall and threw open the doors that led to a balcony. Fresh air! He wanted fresh air. He gulped mouthfuls, then sat on the stones and looked out to sea. Leaning his head back against the wall of the house, he sighed. He must be more careful. Another mistake like that could divulge the truth.

  “I shall close the door, Mama. I—Niles!” Linnea slipped out the door and, closing it, dropped to her knees beside him. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are a rather bilious shade of green.”

  “No doubt.” He held up his sleeve and sniffed it. Choking, he offered it to her.

  She sniffed and pulled back. “Cigar smoke! I hate its smell. It makes me nauseous.

  “Apparently it does the same to me.”

  Linnea stared at Nils’s strained face. Egad! She had not paused to guess that he never had smoked before. Tobacco would have been unknown in England in his time. No wonder he appeared such an odd shade.

  She did not intend to, but she began to laugh. Once she started, she could not stop. She pressed her hands to her side as her laughter stitched a pain in it.

  “Your compassion is touching,” he said dryly.

  “I am sorry.” She sat back on her heels. “But I find it so amusing that a man who has fought incredible battles, sailed across the sea in a ship that is not much bigger than a carriage and four, and can make a ram’s horn into a musical instrument is laid so low by the smell of a cigar.”

  “It is quite ironic, isn’t it?”

  “You will need to accustom yourself to the smell. Gentlemen often smoke cigars and pipes in London.”

  His eyes glittered strangely as he rose to his knees. Taking her hands, he pressed them to his chest. “Unnasta, let us leave for London tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” She stared up into his eyes that burned with his obsession. “Nils, I told you why we must wait until Papa goes to Town.”

  “Bring Olive with you. Then you are not traveling alone.”

  “But—”

  “Bring Jack as well. Between them, they will provide all the chaperones you require.” He released her hands and gently clasped her face. “Unnasta, if you bring them with us—”

  “Even if Mama and Papa would consider allowing us to travel so, it does not matter. I promised Randolph I would be by his side to greet his guests at an assembly he is having on Saturday evening.” She drew his hands down from her cheeks. “That is only four days from now. Once I have done that, we can talk more about this.”

  “Are you so sure that we will be able to talk more about this then?”

  “Of course. After the assembly—”

  “Where Tuthill expects you to announce that you will marry him.”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, he expects that.”

  “He will not appreciate having his betrothed leaving for London with another man.”

  “I did not say that I would marry him.”

  “You did not say that you would not.”

  She gripped his hands tightly. “Nils, I must go to this assembly. Mayhap I will be able to find the way to tell Randolph the truth in a way that will not hurt him. ”

  “Forget Tuthill. It is imperative that we leave posthaste.”

  “Nils, I promised him.”

  He slid his hands out of hers and sighed. “As you promised to help me?”

  “It is a pledge I intend to keep.”

  “But, Linnea, you do not understand. We must leave without delay.”

  “Why? What has changed so much that we cannot wait a few more days?”

  He stood. “You would not
believe me if I told you, Linnea.”

  “You sound frightened.” Coming to her feet, she clutched onto his arms. “I never thought I would see you frightened.”

  “Nor did I. I thought no one was braver than Nils Bjornsson, who was respected by his allies and feared by his enemies.”

  “But?”

  He clasped her elbows, drawing her to him. “But what happened to me today, what I saw and heard, you will not believe.”

  “I am trying, Nils.” She leaned her head against his chest. “I wish I could believe.”

  “It may not matter if you believe or not.” He rested his head atop hers as he told her of Odin’s words to him. He paused, then said, “If I do not complete my quest soon, all may be lost.”

  She stepped back. “But I promised Randolph.”

  “I know.” He slanted his mouth across hers for only the length of one beat of her swift pulse. “I will not ask you to break any promise you make.”

  “I will help you. Let me think of a way to persuade Mama and Papa to let me escort you to London. There must be a way.”

  “I hope so.” He turned and looked out at the sea rising and falling in its endless rhythm. “I hope there still is a way to complete my quest.”

  “And if you don’t?” She tried not to let too much hope enter her voice. If he did not fulfill his vow, he would have to stay here...with her.

  “I don’t know.”

  Nineteen

  “An outing? How wonderful!” Linnea tried to sound enthusiastic. It was not easy when all her thoughts were focused on how bleak Nils’s face had been during their short conversation on the balcony the previous night.

  Minnie smiled. “Yes, I thought it could be just Martin and me and Randolph and...” She hesitated, then said, “Niles.”

  “What?” Linnea realized Minnie was staring past her. Twisting to look over her shoulder, she saw Nils entering the room. She understood why her sister-in-law’s mouth was open and her eyes wide.

  Nils was dressed to take a ride about the countryside. His elegantly cut coat did not give any hints that it had been remade for him from one of Martin’s. Somehow, the shoulders of the coat had been widened to accommodate his broader ones. His nankeen trousers that hooked beneath his brilliantly polished shoes accented the lean strength of his legs.

  “Oh, my!” Minnie whispered.

  “What is wrong?” Linnea asked.

  Her sister-in-law shook herself, looked at Linnea and quickly away, but not before guilt flashed on her face.

  Putting her hand on Minnie’s arm, Linnea murmured, “It is not a horrible thing to look at other men when you are wed. After all, men look at women all the time.”

  “Linnea!” Minnie giggled, then put her hand over her mouth to hide the sound as Nils came closer.

  “Will you share the jest?” he asked.

  That set Minnie off onto another round of giggles.

  Linnea chuckled as she said, “It was something I doubt a man would understand.”

  “Or something he would be wise not to delve too deeply into?”

  “Exactly.” Putting her arm around her sister-in-law’s quivering shoulders, she said, “Minnie was just speaking to me about an outing she thought we might enjoy.”

  “An outing? Where?”

  Minnie composed herself enough to say, “An al fresco meal.”

  “By the shore,” Linnea hurried to explain when she saw the confusion on Nils’s face. “We would take the food there and eat on blankets.”

  “And this is something you enjoy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even when you get sand in your food?”

  Linnea laughed. “The idea is to enjoy the sunshine and the water and to get away from the decorum of eating here in the house. We have the opportunity to set aside the napery and eat with our fingers.”

  “Ah, I understand,” he said, although she was not sure if he did.

  Minnie stood. “I shall let Cook know. Randolph should be here soon. He told Martin that he would be calling before midday today.”

  Nodding, Linnea waited until her sister-in-law was out of earshot before she asked, “Were you planning to go for a ride, Nils?”

  “Yes.”

  “To London?”

  “There is no reason to go without you.”

  “I have already spoken to Mama. She is willing to listen, suggesting that Minnie might like to go to Town to visit some friends. It is a wondrous idea. Minnie loves any chance to go to London to call on the friends she has made. Having Minnie with us will give countenance to the whole arrangement.”

  “Or I could simply abduct you from the spot where you stand.” He stepped so close that his beguiling strength seemed to overmaster her. “I could sweep you up into my arms and run out of this house with you.”

  “You could,” she whispered, losing herself in the mysterious depths of his glorious eyes.

  “I would toss you into a carriage and shout the order to take us to London without delay.”

  “You could.”

  His finger traced an aimless path along her shoulder. “It is not a short journey, so we would have to find a way to spend the time.”

  “We could speak of how best to find the knife.”

  “Or we could become lovers.” A roguish smile tilted his lips. “The motion of a carriage would not be as wondrous as making love with you on the deck of my ship, but it would do.”

  “Would do?” She laughed, trying to ignore the images his brazen words suggested.

  “I would and so would you.”

  “You presume much, my lord Viking. I am no frightened lass hiding from your rapacious pursuits.”

  He laughed. “When I hold you, you would see that the pursuit is over and the prize has been won. Or I simply could toss you over my shoulder and take you to your room and show you there what you have denied us.”

  “You would not dare.” When he smiled, she whispered, “You would not, would you?”

  A devilish twinkle brightened his violet eyes as his arm crept around her waist. “You have changed me, unnasta. In times past, no Englishwoman would have dared deny me any request I made. Then, if we had met, you would have gladly taken me to London to keep me and my comrades away from your home and family.”

  “Then, if we had met, I would gladly have seen you with a blade driven deep into you.”

  “True.” He whispered against her ear, “A knife is not what I would like to drive deep within you, unnasta.”

  “Nils!”

  His hushed laugh sifted through her, as electrifying as if she had tried to capture a bolt of lightning in her bare hands. “Be honest. Tell me, unnasta, that you have not had thoughts of the ecstasy we could share, and I will speak of them no more.”

  “I have had such thoughts.” She stroked his wind-scored cheek. “Many, many times.”

  “Then we should—”

  Linnea heard the same footfalls Nils had. Stepping away from him, she hoped no one detected her high color as she went to speak with her brother and Randolph, who must have just arrived because he was smoothing wrinkles from his coat. She tried to heed what they were saying and to answer, but she was too aware of Nils. He was more than an arm’s length from her, but her skin tingled as if he held her. When he spoke with her brother about whether to take horses or to walk to the spot where they would be having their meal, she could have sworn she was a marionette and he was the puppeteer. She seemed somehow connected to him with invisible strings that pulsed with all the longing that she could no longer deny.

  She wondered how much longer she would be able to hide this desire for a man who should not even be here with her. And what would happen if she did not keep denying it...

  * * * *

  Sunshine burnished the sand to brilliant off-white. This cove was not the one where Linnea had found Nils, for the walls of the cliffs were higher but not as steep. This cove was on the opposite side of the boulders that had not been by the sea in Nils’s time. Two open carriages
waited by the boulders. On the cove’s far side, trees grew nearly to the tide line, offering some respite from the hot sunlight.

  Linnea sat beside Minnie, her parasol knocking her sister-in-law’s if she was careless. The wool blanket beneath them itched, and she would have preferred soft sand to dig her toes into. But Minnie came to the strand only when she could have these comforts, so Linnea acquiesced.

  Farther along the shore, Martin and Randolph were fishing. She could not remember the last time her brother had caught any fish in this cove, but he relished the chance to try. She considered telling him that Jack regularly pulled fish from the next cove. She did not. Although Nils had been all alone on the deserted beach when they found him, something from his time might linger beneath the waters where a chance cast could find it.

  Linnea laughed as Scamp ran past, showering her with sand. Calling the puppy’s name, she was surprised when he trotted back to her. He usually paid her little attention. When he raced past her again, she heard a laugh behind her.

  She smiled at Nils. No wonder Scamp had seemed to obey her. He adored Nils. Did Scamp believe in his puppyish brain that Nils was his pet because Scamp had found him on the shore?

  “You are a troublemaker, pup,” Nils said, holding out his fingers for Scamp to sniff.

  Scamp’s tail wagged so rapidly that it was a golden blur as the puppy stuck his head under Nils’s hand in a plea to be petted.

  “He makes his wants known, doesn’t he?” Nils squatted beside the puppy which jumped up to put front paws on Nils’s knee.

  “He does.” Linnea stretched to stroke Scamp’s silken head.

  Nils put his fingers over hers, caressing them as gently as she was the puppy. “We could learn a lesson from his honesty.”

  “A hazardous lesson.” She glanced at Minnie, whose eyes were closed. Was her sister-in-law asleep?

  “Nothing is gained without some peril,” Nils whispered.

  “Is that the creed of the Norrfoolk?”

  His fingers entwined with hers as he leaned closer to her. “It is my creed.” He yelped when Scamp began digging furiously in the sand, spraying it over him.