by Phoebe Conn
“When my predicament is such a wretched one, how dare you find humor in it?”
“I’ll laugh at whatever I please, Celiese, but you needn’t fear me. I will set you down upon your feet very gently if you will let go of my horse.” She waited until he drew the spirited stallion to a halt to release her hold upon the animal’s mane, and as promised Hagen lowered her carefully to the ground before he dismounted with a quick leap and tossed his reins to a groom who had come running to meet them.
Taking Celiese’s arm, he led the way toward the rear of the house and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s none here who’ll welcome your return, save Olgrethe, but she will be with Andrick now, and I’ll not disturb their evening.” He paused a moment, certain she would know why the newly married couple would not wish to be interrupted. “I have no choice but to take you to my room, where you can bathe and dress, as your present attire will impress no one favorably.”
“What is wrong with the way I am dressed?” she protested heatedly. She had made the outfit herself and thought it not only practical but comfortable as well. That most women did not spend their days hunting, nor dress for such an activity, failed to occur to her.
Hagen stopped walking abruptly and pulled her around to face him. The daylight had barely begun to fade, although the hour was late, and he looked her up and down slowly while he commented truthfully. “There is blood in your hair as well as splattered upon your clothing. Were anyone to see you now, they would no doubt accuse you of Mylan’s murder. Do you wish to risk the wrath that mistake would incur? Or the punishment that would be too swift to allow time for you to deny the charge or disprove it?”
She glanced down at the dark stains upon her trousers and suppressed a shudder at the memory of how the bear’s blood had showered all around her as she had struck him. Hagen’s disapproving frown was only natural, she supposed, and she had to agree with him. “You are right, of course. I’m well-aware that I’m despised by all who live in this house, and little excuse would be needed for my execution. I have no choice either, it seems, but to do as you say, but is there no other room where I might stay the night?”
Sighing wearily, for he was certain no woman on earth would be safer sleeping in his room, Hagen hastened to reassure her. “If you think I find you attractive, you are mistaken, but I had planned to sleep elsewhere, not with you. Now, let us hurry, as I am hungry and have no wish to miss whatever was left from supper.”
She remained where she stood as he turned away. His appearance was too much like Mylan’s for her to feel comfortable with him, even had his manner been inviting. He moved with the same confident stride, his muscular build a handsome complement to his even features and unique coloring, but she felt only a deep sense of loss as she watched him walk across the yard.
When he turned and came back for her she realized she had been staring most rudely and took the arm he offered without argument, for she knew it was unfair of her to blame him for his brother’s cruelty. When they reached his room she stopped at the door, for his quarters were so littered with clutter she dared not enter for fear of upsetting one of the carefully balanced heaps. “You have no room for me here, Hagen, there’s not space to turn about, let alone for me to bathe and dress.”
Hagen shoved a bundle of furs aside with a forceful kick, and bent down to push a small trunk from the center of the room to the far wall. “There, does that please you? I have not finished sorting our goods since our last voyage, but I do no more than sleep here and am not bothered by these things, as you so obviously are.” Swearing under his breath, he continued to work, but the stacks were so numerous he cleared little space upon the floor.
Celiese leaned back against the door to rest. She was exhausted and her head ached painfully. “I did not mean to insult you. I am simply so dreadfully tired I want only to sleep if I may.”
Hagen frowned as he straightened up, surprised his inadequate housekeeping had not been the real source of her complaint. “Well, you cannot sleep in such filthy clothes. Remove them and I will see you have others when you awaken in the morning.”
The delicate woman’s eyes widened slightly, but she saw only disgust in Hagen’s expression, without the slightest trace of lust in either his manner or words. Perhaps it was her own fault, she realized, for while Andrick had covered her with his cloak at the slave auction, when she had reached their inn she had tossed it aside in full view of both brothers before climbing into their bed.
“I know you have seen me nude once before, and perhaps you think my modesty misplaced now.”
Waving aside her objection, the tall man came forward as he interrupted her. “I have much in common with my elder brother, but his weakness for beautiful women is not among the traits we share. You may take off your clothes, or I will slit the seams and rip them off. Which would you prefer?” Drawing his knife, he made clear his intention to strip her naked.
“I am fully capable of undressing myself without your assistance,” she replied coldly. If he wanted to humiliate her she would call his bluff by disrobing in front of him as if he were not even there. After what she had suffered that day, she considered this small insult insignificant.
Hagen felt little regard for the disheveled young woman, but, as she began to untie the drawstring at her throat with the slow, liquid grace of the most exquisite dancer, he felt ashamed of himself for showing her such a lack of courtesy. Perhaps it was the sorrow in her gaze that touched him, or the pride in her posture as she made no move to turn away, but suddenly he found himself wanting to help her in any way he could. Kneeling quickly at her feet, he unlaced her shoes and found the leather nearly worn through as he slipped them from her feet.
Rising, he shook his head sadly. “It is plain my brother has taken very poor care of you. You are dressed in his cast-off clothing, when the soft folds of a woman’s gown suit you far better. As soon as Olgrethe wakes in the morning I will tell her you are here and borrow something pretty for you to wear.”
Surprised by his sudden change of mood, Celiese smiled shyly. She had not yet removed her clothing, only loosened the ties, but thought if she waited a moment he might leave her to undress in privacy, and she dropped her hands to her sides. “Why thank you, Hagen, that is most kind of you, but please do not think I was mistreated in Mylan’s home. I was very happy there and had no wish ever to leave him,” she explained softly, her heartache no less painful for having been voiced.
After pausing a moment to make certain his words would carry the meaning he desired, Hagen spoke calmly. “Do not make the mistake of believing you can return to him. He has suffered far too much at your hands to forgive you this last insult. He is finished with you for all time, and you would be wise to believe when he made the decision to send you away he meant it to be forever.”
She had no interest in debating the sorry issue, and it certainly did not concern Hagen. “Your brother made his point most effectively, since I am here rather than with him as I wished to be. It’s useless to discuss my situation now when you are anxious to have your supper, and I want only to go to sleep.” Turning away, she stepped around his numerous possessions to reach the bed, where she sat down wearily and lifted her hands to cover a wide yawn.
The only hunger Hagen now felt was one that shocked him with a deep, aching need he dared not satisfy, and he started for the door, eager for an excuse to leave the troublesome young woman. “Do not wander the house in the morning, stay here until I bring you something to wear that won’t cause more comment than your very presence most surely will.”
He slammed the door so loudly on his way out that she sat stiffly, waiting for someone to come to investigate the cause of the noise. But when no one appeared after several moments she removed her soiled clothing with a careless toss, stretched out upon Hagen’s bed and covered herself with a light blanket. He was a puzzling man, with his mood that was so perpetually foul, but she had too much on her mind to worry over him when it was his elder brother who held
her thoughts captive tonight.
She had swiftly grown accustomed to having the warmth of Mylan’s muscular body by her side when she slept, and she found the large bed uncomfortable without him. She knew her whole life would be empty without him to brighten her days and nights. She wondered if he too was lying awake. She hoped he was as lonely as she, lying alone upon his bed, staring up into the darkness and regretting his haste in sending her away when she had been such a devoted companion. Encouraged by that thought she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Mylan and hoping someday soon he would realize the great wrong he had done her and at last ask her to be his wife.
*
The next morning Hagen went to Olgrethe to borrow one of her gowns, but as soon as he explained why he needed one she streaked past him, bursting through the door of his room to awaken the still sleeping Celiese with excited squeals of welcome.
“I despaired of ever seeing you again, and here you have been in the house for one whole night and I did not even know it! Wake up! There is so much for us to discuss, how can you lie there sleeping?” She sat down by her friend and shook her shoulders until Celiese finally sat up and pushed her away.
“May I please have a moment or two to open my eyes?” Celiese ran her fingers through her curls to push them away from her face, clearly marriage had not made Olgrethe any more considerate. She appeared to be as spoiled as ever, expecting to have her own way instantly in all things. As always, Celiese forgave her that fault, but as she tried to respond to her enthusiastic greeting with a warm smile, Olgrethe began to frown.
“You are as tan as a fieldhand, just look at you!” Olgrethe peered at her face closely, clearly disapproving, “You even have freckles!”
“I spent most of my time outdoors with Mylan, so it is no wonder I have grown tan, but truly, freckles are the very least of my problems.” Despite the desperate nature of her situation, Celiese found the criticism of her once creamy white complexion so irrelevant it struck her as being extremely humorous, and she began to giggle uncontrollably. When Olgrethe began to laugh too, they fell into each other’s arms, giving way to their delight in being together again.
Hagen leaned back against his still open door and shook his head reproachfully. “For grown women to act like children is unseemly, especially so in this case.”
“Oh hush, Hagen!” Olgrethe called over her shoulder, cross that he would want to spoil their playful mood. Unconcerned by criticism from her husband’s brother, she cared little that they had displeased him. “It has been many weeks since I’ve seen Celiese, and if she and I wish to laugh together you must not let it disturb your sense of propriety.”
Celiese drew the soft woolen blanket higher upon her breasts as she looked toward the tall man, startled by the familiar ring in his deep voice. Both his tone and words had reminded her so much of Mylan that for an instant she had thought it was he who had spoken. “I am sorry if we seem foolish, Hagen, but do you not have close friends whom you enjoy seeing?” He had greeted Mylan with such enthusiasm the previous day, she thought he should be more understanding of the regard she and Olgrethe felt for each other.
Ignoring her question as unworthy of a response, Hagen straightened up abruptly, stepped into the room, and closed the door. “No one else knows you are here yet, Celiese, and I’d rather you weren’t discovered in my bed before I’ve had time to announce your arrival. I will call one of the women to prepare your bath and help you dress, and then I’ll take you to my parents.”
Celiese was certain she knew all the serving women who might be called and hastened to argue. “I am afraid your household servants will be outraged to see me here again. I’d rather go to Olgrethe’s room and dress there by myself than ask for their help, when they will be most reluctant to extend it.” Reluctant was too mild a term perhaps; if they had their way, she would be lucky to escape a bath without drowning.
“Your lack of popularity with our slaves need no longer concern you now that my brother has set you free,” Hagen commented sarcastically. He had little patience with Celiese’s complaint and wanted only to get the ordeal with his parents over with swiftly.
“What do you mean Mylan has set her free?” Olgrethe looked up at Hagen, then back at Celiese. “You were free from the day you married Mylan,” she insisted emphatically, then continued, “He took you with him to his home. Aren’t you his wife?”
Before Hagen could respond to make her situation painfully clear, Celiese tried to explain truthfully. “We were married for no more than one night in his view, Olgrethe. Since then, Mylan has insisted our marriage was not a valid one because he thought he was marrying you, and he regards the ceremony we went through as no more than a trick of your father’s to gain entrance to this house.”
Blushing with anger, Olgrethe opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. “Would he believe me if I told him the truth of what happened that night? You are blameless and…”
Hagen could no longer hold his tongue and stepped forward. “You would only anger him if you mentioned the word marriage to him, Olgrethe. To mention marriage and Celiese’s name in the same breath would incite more wrath than you’d care to see.”
Celiese squeezed her friend’s hands tightly, warning her to be silent for the moment. “Would you please leave us, Hagen? I will be in Olgrethe’s chamber after I bathe and dress, as I’ve no wish to inconvenience you any further.”
“Of course, the sooner you are ready to be presented to my mother the sooner I may take care of my own business once again and leave your care to her.” With that hostile goodbye he left the room, but this time he did not bother to slam the door on his way out.
“Hagen can be the most impossible bully at times,” Olgrethe confided quickly. “You will never know how grateful I am Andrick is the older of the twins and was therefore the one chosen to be my husband.”
The mere mention of the word husband was enough to depress Celiese’s mood to the point where she felt she and Hagen might have much in common. “Let’s not worry over him, since it is Aldred and Thulyn I’ll need to please.”
After wrapping Celiese with a blanket, they went quickly to Olgrethe’s chamber where the bathwater was already heated. Once she was bathed and dressed Celiese felt far more confident to discuss what her relationship with Mylan had been. As she brushed out her glossy curls she found the truth made increasingly difficult to relate, as Olgrethe kept interrupting excitedly. She was certain Mylan was a great fool if he could not trust the affections of a woman so honest and loving as Celiese and said so repeatedly. When the conversation turned quite naturally to her own recent marriage, she began to smile widely as she revealed her secret.
“Not even Andrick knows yet, Celiese, but I am certain I am already carrying his child. Since Mylan is no less of a man than his brother, is it not possible that you will have a child next spring as well?”
No matter how likely that event might seem to Olgrethe, Celiese hastened to deny it. She had never prayed for a child as most young brides did, and she grew pale at the very thought she might have conceived Mylan’s baby. “No, there will be no child for us, I’m certain of it.”
Not understanding her friend’s suddenly subdued mood, Olgrethe teased her again, whispering softly, “It is a possibility that shouldn’t be overlooked. If you were to tell Mylan he would soon become a father, wouldn’t he be so proud he would forgive you anything?”
“I’ll not lie to him,” Celiese insisted vehemently. That Olgrethe could even suggest such an unprincipled trick appalled her. “Besides, there is no reason for him to forgive me anythingâI am the one who has been wronged.” She stood up to adjust the fine pleats of her bodice so they fell in a flattering sweep. She thought the linen chemise so pretty she hated to add the soft woolen tunic over it, but she slipped it on quickly and fastened the two bronze brooches to hold the shoulders in place.
Since her marriage, Olgrethe had adopted more conservative dress, but Celiese thought the borrowed gown a most welc
ome change from trousers. The beltless dresses were not only attractive but practical as well, for the soft folds would disguise for several months the changes pregnancy would bring to Olgrethe’s figure.
“I must thank you again for your generosity with your wardrobe. Had you not been willing to share your clothing so readily, I do not know what I would have done.” Celiese was sorry she had spoken so sharply and gave her friend a warm hug. She confided, “I am happy you and Andrick will be parents so soon, but I’ll not hope for a child until I’m wed to a man who is proud to call me his wife.” Lifting her chin with a defiant tilt, she moved toward the door. “Shall we find Hagen, so he may tell his parents I’ve come for a visit?”
“A visit is it?” Olgrethe laughed at that term. “When you have nowhere else to go, is this not your new home?”
Startled by the truth of her question Celiese did not reply, but how could she ever regard the Vandahl family home as her own when Mylan did not reside there as well?
Just as she had expected, Thulyn gave her a mere nod as a welcome, followed by a stern lecture from Aldred. His arm still caused him considerable pain, and, as he saw it, the wound was partly her fault. “I was amazed when Mylan took you home with him, and that he has now sent you back to me is even more appalling. Since you are to be considered a free woman, and the close friend of Andrick’s wife, I will allow you to stay on the condition your behavior is as proper as Olgrethe’s. I will not allow your presence here to disrupt our home in any way. Is that understood?”
Before replying, Celiese glanced at the others in the room, using the time to control the flame of her temper, but she was sorely tempted to respond with a bitter refusal of Aldred’s insulting conditional invitation. Andrick had come in and stood with his bride, and they looked so happy together, standing close with their arms entwined, that she longed to go to them, if for only a fleeting moment to be part of the love that shone so brightly in their eyes.