‘A word, if you please.’ She made certain to keep her shoulders back and her chin up, but she had to clear her throat to control the tremor in her voice. Both men stood and Sandulf made as if to leave. ‘Please stay. I brought this for you.’
Walking to the table, she handed him a rolled vellum she had prepared. His brows drew together in confusion as he took it from her. ‘It is an accounting of the events in Maerr as I remember them, including Lugh’s involvement. I’ve signed my name and affixed our seal on the chance that it might prove useful to you.’
His eyes widened in surprise as his fingers closed around it. ‘Thank you,’ he mumbled, glancing down at the vellum. When he met her gaze again, his eyes were not filled with disgust. It was progress.
‘Please be careful when you approach him,’ she said. ‘He was a dangerous man when I knew him. If he is insincere in his repenting, then you cannot trust him.’
Sandulf gave her a nod of agreement, seemingly at a loss for words. The vellum wasn’t much, but it had been the only thing she could think to do to help him in his journey. It didn’t absolve her of her guilt, but she hoped it would help him.
Turning her attention to Rurik, his stony expression nearly made the wobble in her voice come back. ‘I have come to a decision and would like to discuss it with you.’
‘You have come to a decision? Isn’t it I who am weighing how to deal with you?’ asked Rurik.
The comment smarted, so she ignored it. From the corner of her eye, she could see Sandulf making his way around the table to leave them alone and this time she did not try to stop him. If she was to receive a chastisement, she would rather it happen in private. With nothing left to hold on to, her fingers fumbled with the hem of her sleeve.
‘If you have a punishment in mind, then I’d like to hear it, but I doubt that you do since you haven’t come forward with it yet.’
‘Perhaps I am biding my time.’ His voice was flat, as if she meant nothing to him, and her heart clenched with the knowledge. This is exactly why she had avoided him.
‘I have a solution in mind if you would hear me out,’ she said.
He paused a few heartbeats before inclining his head.
‘I think it best that one of us leave. Since you are now Lord, it obviously should be me. I do not want to put Glannoventa in jeopardy and any strife between us could do just that. Not only could it make us appear weaker to any enemies who may seek to prey on us, but I believe it will lead to confusion for everyone. I have already heard rumours that there is talk in the village about our discontent.’ Not to mention the fact that she could not survive being this near to him and having him hate her. Every day that passed was like another twist of the dagger in her heart.
‘Where will you go?’ His voice was nearly quiet.
‘I have an older sister near Wexborough where I was born. I can go there.’ She had seven brothers and sisters of all different ages. She had not seen most of them since coming to Wilfrid as a child, but she had no doubt that this was the best way forward. Anything was better than facing Rurik’s indifference. She would float from household to household if she had to.
He seemed to be weighing her words, before he spoke. ‘Cedric told me at some length how much you value your position here. You would leave that behind?’
Unable to withstand the blandness of his gaze, she feigned interest in the map laid open on the table. ‘I cannot pretend my reasons are unselfish... I do want what’s best for Glannoventa and, barring any sort of reconciliation, I believe this is it.’
‘And how is that selfish?’
Was it her imagining it or did his voice sound closer? Treacherous tears burned her eyes, so she did not dare look back at him to check. Swallowing several times against the lump in her throat, she said, ‘That part isn’t.’ Damn tears. She would not cry before him.
‘Then which part is?’ His voice was too low to make out any sort of intonation.
‘The part that cannot bear staying here knowing that I lost you.’ A strangled gasp tore out of her as she tried and failed to hold back her tears. She turned to run, but he was standing in front of her. Right there in front of her with scarcely a breath between them. She sucked in a gulp of air, her fingernails biting into her palms to distract her and stop more tears from falling.
‘You lied to me.’ His voice shook from emotion, but she did not know if it was anger or something else. His eyes burned with it.
‘I am sorry I didn’t tell you.’ The way he was looking at her...it was as if he wanted to devour her. A tender ache bloomed inside her, but she didn’t know if the change in his eyes was her imagining his change in sentiment towards her. ‘I don’t know how to make it right, but you should not suffer any longer. Take Glannoventa. Take Mulcasterhas. Take everything and know that I will live my life being sorry for how I hurt you. I have already arranged an escort with Cedric. I leave in the morning.’
His eyes widened in shock and she used his moment of stunned silence to dart past him. Praying that she would reach the privacy of her chamber before she dissolved into a mass of tears, she ran as fast as she could.
* * *
Annis was leaving. She was giving up the only thing that mattered to her to atone for her lie. To help the people she loved so much. Sigurd had lied more times than Rurik could count, but he had lied only for his selfish gain. To gain Saorla. To gain wealth. To gain power. Never, to Rurik’s knowledge, had he lied to protect anyone but himself. Annis had been willing to tell the truth, but not if that truth would bring potential harm to her people.
Their lies were not created equal. Rurik could not consider them with an equal level of contempt. Perhaps by treating them the same, he was being unfair. The realisation left him momentarily dazed. It only took a few heartbeats to come to his senses, but it was enough time for Annis to slip by him and out the door.
‘Annis!’ he called to her as he followed behind her, but the sound of his voice only seemed to make her run faster. The knowledge that she intended to lock him out spurred him on, his strides eating up the distance so that he reached her door as she was shutting it behind her.
‘Let me in, Annis.’ He shoved his foot between the door and frame just in time to keep it from shutting him out, but he couldn’t quite hold in a grunt as pain shot across his foot and up his ankle.
‘Go away!’ she cried, putting all her weight against the door. It was no use, because he had managed to wedge his shoulder into the opening and make it wider. She stumbled away in dismay, her eyes wet and miserable.
He forced the door closed behind him harder than he had intended. The harsh slam reverberated in the still room. ‘You will not leave in the morning or any other morning.’ By the gods, the very thought of her gone away from him for ever made him grow cold.
‘I cannot stay.’ She brought the back of her hand to her mouth as she sucked in a trembling breath, her chest heaving as she struggled to contain her obvious pain. ‘Rurik, please do not force that on me.’
Watching her and the physical manifestation of her hurt and sorrow play across her face made the nearly unbearable pressure that had been building inside him every day they were apart break open. It splintered inside him, leaving him shaken and weak. He walked towards her, but it became more of a stalking because she backed up with every step until she came up against the wall and could move no farther.
‘Consider it your punishment,’ he said, hardly recognising his own voice.
Anguish slashed across her features, but she was able to hold back more tears as she drew her chin up. ‘Think of the people who count on us. This is not in their best interest. I cannot stay here and cause conflict. I will not.’
Rurik put his hands to the wall on either side of her, leaning close. ‘You do not have a choice, Wife. You will stay here and let me love you every day for the rest of our lives.’ He did not realise how much he meant those words until
they were hanging in the space between them.
Her eyes widened with hope which she quickly suppressed, sending a pang shooting through him. He cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing the ridge of her lower lip. ‘You see, I find that I cannot live without you.’
‘Rurik...do you mean...?’ Her voice trailed off as if afraid to hope.
‘I know now you didn’t mean for that to happen in Maerr. Not at first... I let my anger decide, but after the anger wore off, I knew. And still I couldn’t get past the betrayal that you had lied to me.’
‘I shouldn’t—’
He pressed his thumb to her lips to quiet her. ‘I understand why you did. If I’m being honest, I don’t know how I would have reacted had you told me before the wedding. I know that I wouldn’t have gone through with it. At least not right away.’
Against the pad of his thumb, she said, ‘If Jarl Eirik hadn’t been on his way...’
The corner of his mouth pulled upwards. ‘If he hadn’t been on his way, there would have been no need for us to wed in such haste. I can’t forget that, or how glad I am that we wed.’
‘Do you mean that?’
‘Yes, only I didn’t let myself admit it until tonight. Until you were willing to give up everything important to you for me.’ His hands slid into her hair so he held her precious face between his palms.
‘I love you, Rurik.’ A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and he caught it with his lips. ‘I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want Glannoventa to suffer. If you want me to go—’
‘Shh...’ His heart filled up at her words. ‘Stay. In my bed. In my life. In my heart. Stay with me.’ His lips brushed kisses across the crest of her cheekbone and down to her mouth, light touches that had him craving more of her.
She let out a sob and he covered her mouth with his. She kissed him back until they were both breathless and her fingers were tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. ‘Are you certain you can forgive me?’ she whispered.
A hand ran down her back to pull her soft body close to him, needing to feel every part of her against him like a starving man. He took in her earnest gaze, golden in the soft candlelight. ‘These past weeks have been torture. I don’t want to live without you, Annis. From this day forward, nothing comes between us again. Swear it to me.’
Giving him a slow smile full of the hope she had tried to suppress until now, she rose up and kissed him again. ‘I swear it.’ Her fingers tightened in his hair almost painfully, but he wanted the pain if it meant that she was touching him again. ‘Every moment of every day you will know exactly what I feel and what I am thinking because I won’t stop talking about how much I love you.’
He laughed at that as she had meant him to and twirled around with her in his arms. They landed on the bed. She giggled in a way that he had never heard from her before as she pushed herself back so that he could crawl over her. He stared down at her in awe, wondering what else this woman he had married had in store for him. But he didn’t get to wonder for long, because she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him over her, her mouth taking his in a plundering kiss that left him breathless and craving more.
His hands went between them. First to her breasts, skating over her rigid nipples, and then down to the skirt of her gown, tugging the fabric upwards in a suddenly desperate bid to feel her bare flesh against his. Her touches became frenzied as she roughly pulled his tunic up. He was forced to let her go to tug it off over his head. By then her fingers had found the fastenings of his trousers and slipped inside to grasp him. He was already so hard with his need for her that her touch drew the breath from his lungs. Gasping for air, he tugged at her skirts, not bothering to take off the rest of his clothing. His need to make them one, to make them whole again, overrode any thoughts of prolonging their pleasure.
‘Hurry,’ she whispered as she guided his length to her.
‘Annis,’ he groaned when he felt how slippery and hot she was for him. Easing inside her bit by bit, he laughed when she arched her hips, desperate for the same thing he wanted. Taking her hands, he laced his fingers with hers and held them pressed to the bed above her head as he entered her in one long and deep stroke, until their hips were pressed together. Her ragged sigh of gratification filled his ears. He stared down into her golden eyes, slightly unfocused now with pleasure.
‘I love you, Wife,’ he whispered, knowing with certainty that she would hold his heart until the end of time.
He moved in a soft rhythm, filling her up and then drawing away, loving the way he fit inside her. Her inner muscles gripped him as if she was made for him, as if she never wanted to let him go. He loved her with his body until they both came, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces that slowly came back together, creating something that was both stronger and more resilient than either of them had ever been separately.
Epilogue
Several months later
Rurik pushed open the shutters to allow the warm morning sunlight into Wilfrid’s bedchamber. The man had been gone for months, but Annis had only recently shown an interest in going through his personal things. Rurik hadn’t pressed the issue, wanting to give her time to mourn. As a result, the chamber had been closed up ever since Rurik had ordered the various parchments and implements removed that would prove important to him in an official capacity.
She knelt on the floor beside a small chest she had just pulled out from beneath Wilfrid’s bed. Leaning against the wall, he revelled in watching her. Her auburn hair shimmered like flames in the sunlight where it cascaded down her back. He had convinced her to leave it down as they worked, loving the ability to reach over and lose his fingers in it as he wanted.
Becoming aware of him, she glanced up and blushed at the look he was giving her. ‘You don’t have to stay. I know you have things to do.’
‘Nothing more important than you.’
She gave a knowing smile and resumed riffling through the chest, metal clinking as she lifted items out and sorted them on the floor beside her. ‘I’m certain you mentioned going into the village with Danr this morning to assess the storm’s damage to the port.’
Danr had surprised them by arriving some time ago after having heard of Rurik’s marriage. Rurik had been gratified at how his twin had accepted Annis, not questioning Rurik’s desire to stay with her despite their past. The last several months had been some of the best of his entire life. He finally felt as if he had a place to belong. A home.
‘He’s only just returned from his morning ride and is breaking his fast. We’ll leave after, which means we have time to retire to our chamber for a bit,’ he said suggestively.
She wasn’t paying him any attention, having unwrapped a trinket that had been tied with a leather thong and bundled in heavy wool. He frowned at how she ignored him and made his way to her to press his case. Twin lines marred the skin between her brows as she turned what looked to be an arrow-shaped trinket over in her hands to examine it.
Curious, he came down on to his haunches beside her and asked, ‘What have you found?’
‘I confess I have no idea.’ She turned it over again. ‘I’ve never seen it, but it seems foreign. Could it be from the Danes?’
A shock of recognition shot through him as she presented it to him. It was an arrowhead pendant made of gold with notches cut into the sides. A simple enough trinket, except the ridged line down the middle was made of silver. Hilda, his father’s wife, had possessed one very similar. Sigurd had gifted it to her with the birth of one of her sons. If the idea wasn’t so impossible, Rurik would have said this was it. It looked just like it, however. He knew because he had looked upon all the pendants, one for each son, with hatred for many years after his mother’s death. He realised now that jealousy and resentment that Sigurd hadn’t presented his own mother with such fine trinkets upon the birth of the twins had been behind the hatred.
‘You know what it is?’ sh
e asked.
He shook his head, still not daring to believe, but unable to deny that it was an exact replica if it wasn’t the same one. ‘How long would he have possessed this?’
Her hand touched his shoulder in silent support, sensing that something was very wrong. ‘I am not certain. At least several years. He hasn’t left Glannoventa since Grim’s death. You recognise it?’
‘Yes, but it can’t be.’ Propelled to his feet, Annis followed him as he made his way to the hall to find Danr. He had to show him so his brother could tell him he was mistaken. That he was wrong in his memory.
Since Wilfrid’s death, more tables had been brought in and the hall had been opened up to Rurik’s warriors so that at any given time of day there were always several men partaking of mead and food. He found Danr easily at the main table in deep discussion with Alder. The two had formed a friendship since he’d arrived.
Leofe stood, refilling his tankard of mead, which had barely been touched, with a look of longing on her face that might have been comical had Rurik not felt very badly for her repeated and thwarted efforts to seduce Danr. Like all the brothers, Danr had changed in the years since the murders, in his case becoming more serious and seemingly less inclined to indulge himself where women were concerned. To Rurik’s knowledge he had gone to bed alone every night since coming to Glannoventa.
Taking a seat beside Danr, he waited for the girl to make her way to another table before holding out the pendant. ‘What do you make of this?’
Danr stared at the arrow resting on Rurik’s palm for the space of a heartbeat before his eyes widened in recognition. His fingertip came up to float over the silver ridge. ‘It looks like one of Hilda’s.’ Brows drawing together, he said, ‘You don’t think it is?’
They both stared at it, momentarily dumbstruck.
‘How could it come to be in Wilfrid’s possession?’ Rurik asked.
Falling For Her Viking Captive (Sons 0f Sigurd Book 2) Page 22