by Phoebe Conn
Erik appeared fascinated, while Hagen’s pose was as unconcerned as his expression. He appeared thoroughly bored. She wondered why he had not gone to attend to the business he had claimed to be so urgent earlier that morning rather than remaining to listen to his parents’ cool welcome. Had she anywhere at all to go she would have left at once, but knowing such an announcement would be foolhardy for the time being, she forced a gracious smile.
“I am grateful you have invited me to share your home, Aldred. I will give you no cause to regret your decision.”
Aldred glanced toward his wife, waiting to see if she had any objection, but when she shook her head slightly he said no more. “It is settled then. As my daughter-in-law’s friend you are welcome here, but had Olgrethe not wanted you to stay, you would already have been sent upon your way.”
Thinking the conversation far too severe in nature, Olgrethe charmed Aldred as well as Thulyn with her warmth and easy praise, but once she was again alone with Celiese she revealed the truth. “I adore Andrick, truly I do, and I know now I was only waiting to meet him when I refused the proposals of other men, but sometimes when I enter the room Aldred will quickly change the subject, or Thulyn will take up her needlework with such great haste I know they have been talking about me. I hope things will be easier for me after I have given them a grandchild, but just having you here with me again fills me with hope.”
Celiese returned Olgrethe’s fond embrace, but she had no such optimism for herself, for she had no handsome husband who adored her, nor the hope of bearing his child in the spring. “I have missed you too, Olgrethe.” But even as she spoke those sweet words she realized that in Mylan’s fascinating company she had not thought even once of her longtime companion.
*
As one week turned slowly to two, Celiese found the Vandahl home increasingly confining. Much to her relief, the slaves simply ignored her, but she found their silence far easier to abide than their insults had been and simply saw to all of her own needs herself without once calling for their assistance. The early morning weather was perfect for going out on horseback, but Olgrethe did not want to ride, giving the delicate nature of her condition as the reason. Although she longed for the freedom to explore the countryside, Celiese dared not go out alone, fearing it would cause unfavorable comment from her hosts.
Aldred and Thulyn were civil, but only just barely, and Celiese spent no more time in their company than was required to share a meal. Andrick was so absorbed in his new bride that he saw little that took place in the house. Erik was charming, but Celiese found his youthful exuberance tiresome in the extreme. Hagen’s reaction to her was more difficult to describe, still a bit of a mystery. He said little other than a polite greeting, but his glance was no longer disapproving, and when he suggested they join Olgrethe and his brother for a walk after supper one evening she was happy to agree.
“I am glad you suggested this, Hagen, as the evenings here have been very long for me.” Celiese held her gown above her feet as they stepped upon the path. The trailing garment was far more practical for wear indoors than out, but she had had time to complete only one dress for herself, so she had few choices of apparel.
Hagen looked askance, and then accepting her compliment as sincere, he agreed. “Yes, I too have grown bored. Were Andrick not so enchanted with Olgrethe we would be at sea now. As it is, the summer has been almost entirely wasted.”
“In your opinion,” Celiese offered with a teasing smile.
After a moment’s pause, Hagen gave a surprisingly good-natured chuckle. “Yes, in my opinion only, for Andrick will no doubt recall this as the best summer of his life.”
As they strolled along, Celiese was surprised to find her escort in so charming a mood. He led her to the crest of the hill, the best vantage point for a view of the sea, and when Olgrethe and Andrick turned back toward the house he made no move to follow them. “I know things are as difficult for you here as they are for me, Celiese.” He scuffed the toe of his boot in the dust, unwilling or perhaps unable to say more.
Noticing a small bench nearby, she asked shyly, “Could we sit down for a moment?” He appeared to be in the mood to talk and she wanted to give him the opportunity to say whatever he wished. “The night is so pretty.”
“Of course, sit down; I will wait for as long as you wish.” Hagen quickly granted her request, but although he walked her to the bench he did not take the place at her side.
That he would stand so stiffly while she rested surprised her, and she patted the place beside her as she invited, “Won’t you please join me here, Hagen, there is room for two on this bench, so you needn’t stand.”
He hesitated a moment, and then sat down beside her and leaned forward to rest his forearms across his knees as he gazed at the sea. “I have been meaning to talk to you about something, Celiese. Andrick and I are partners, but since he is so busy I am considering making a voyage on my own. Our crew is experienced, and I can command our vessel alone.”
Sensing that he wanted her opinion, although she could not imagine why, she quickly gave it. “I made a voyage with you once; I’d say your skill is equal to that of your brother. Where is it you wish to go?”
He sat up straight, his light eyes aglow with excitement. “Do not start screaming, as I have no wish to make you hysterical, but there are many Danes who wish to go to your homeland. We are crowded here, you see, and they say France has land aplenty.”
She gasped sharply, then closed her eyes tightly to shut out the horror his statement evoked. “Is that the tale, that land is free there for the taking now that the Danes have butchered all my people?”
Insulted by the viciousness of her taunt, he grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a sound shake. “A province of France has been given to a Dane, to Hrolf, and he has invited other Danes to settle his land. I will be butchering no one if I take farmers there, and neither will they. Save your hatred for Raktor and his clan, for they are the ones who deserve it.”
She needed no permission to despise Raktor and his kind, but they were not the issue now. “Mylan told me that same ridiculous lie, but I refuse to believe it,” she argued. She did not care how angry Hagen got, she would never accept such an outrageous tale as the truth. She held her breath expecting him to slap her for such insolence, but he shocked her far more as he leaned forward to kiss her lightly, and when she was too stunned to draw away he mistook her reaction for acceptance and drew her into his arms.
She could scarcely breathe as he deepened his kiss. His lips were soft, his mouth warm, his taste sweet, but she was appalled that he would take her affection for granted and struggled to break free.
“What’s the matter? Do I not please you?” He leaned back only slightly, just enough to look into her eyes and judge her true reaction no matter what she might say.
“Hagen!” she cried sharply, but no matter how hard she attempted to push him away he would not release her. “Let me go!”
“Why? When you complain your evenings are too long, why not let me fill them?”
He was smiling widely now, amused by her display of temper, and she struggled to lift her hand to slap his face but he caught her wrist and held it firmly in his grasp. “Hagen, stop it!” For an instant, she was tempted to remind him she was Mylan’s wife, but it would be a truly ludicrous claim. She had heard nothing from Mylan in the last two weeks and with each passing day her hopes that he would come for her had grown dimmer. It was clear he planned to live the rest of his life without her, and the sad prospect filled her with pain.
Thoroughly depressed by Mylan’s indifference, she relaxed in Hagen’s embrace, but still managed to avoid his kiss. She laid her head upon his shoulder, hoping he would come to his senses rather than try to take things any further. “I should not have come out for a walk with you, but I did not understand what you would expect.” He had certainly given her no reason to suspect he even liked her, let alone that he might imagine she would welcome his kiss.
; Hagen caressed her soft curls lightly, content for the moment to let her rest in his arms. “I am a man, like any other,” he explained simply, certain she knew exactly what he wanted from her that night.
“No, you are like no other,” she whispered softly. You are my husband’s brother she longed to say, but dared not be so foolish.
“If it is Mylan you want, I’ll soon make you forget him.” Winding his fingers in her fair tresses, he forced her lips back to his, but his kiss was gentle, soft and subtle with a surprising tenderness. When he saw tears fill her eyes he kissed her damp lashes sweetly. “You needn’t weep, Celiese, not when I want so badly to help you.”
“Help me?” she saw only the golden sheen to his gaze and remembered another man entirely, although she was still dazed by his gentle kiss.
“Yes. If I take Danes to France, there will be room for you to make the journey as well. Does that prospect not interest you, even if I do not?”
Celiese’s long sweep of lashes touched her brows as she stared up at him, astonished by his question. “You would take me home? I could return home?” She had not dared hope such a possibility even existed, but she saw clearly in his expression that it did.
Hagen waited a long moment, enjoying the light filling her sparkling green eyes with unabashed delight. “Yes, I will take you home, but we needn’t make our plans tonight. Come, let us walk back to the house before it becomes too dark for you to make the way safely.”
She sprang to her feet, nearly dancing with joy as she moved down the path beside him and when he paused at her door she knew he was waiting for a kiss and lifted her lips shyly to his. He drew her into his arms, his gentle kiss growing passionate, but he left her blushing brightly with embarrassment rather than pleasure. He walked away, as though he had given her no more than a light kiss upon the cheek, but she knew exactly what he would expect were she to travel with him to France. Tears again filled her eyes, but she blinked them away, uncertain now if going home meant more to her than her pride.
Chapter 14
Celiese stretched languidly, pressing her silken skin against Mylan’s broad chest as his kisses moved slowly down her throat. His kiss tickled at the curve of her shoulder, and she purred with a playful giggle before coming fully awake with a startled gasp, “Mylan?” She sat up then, looking around anxiously, but the pale light filling the room revealed no trace of the handsome Viking.
Flopping dejectedly across the bed with a frustrated moan, she longed to go back to sleep but an escape into the oblivion of slumber proved impossible. The dream had been much too real, too tantalizing a reminder of Mylan’s generous affection for her to force his compelling image from her mind. His memory filled her senses to overflowing, and she rested her cheek upon her arms as she relived in her imagination each moment they had shared. She had wanted him to love her, to be as proud to call her his wife as she had been to call him husband, but it had proven to be a hopeless dream. Perhaps her cause had been doomed from the very beginning, but she had no regrets. Even knowing how furious Mylan had been that she had prized her freedom so highly, she could not have remained his slave forever.
“I am no slave,” she whispered hoarsely, her voice ringing hollow in the early morning air. No indeed, she could no longer be called a slave by anyone, but the freedom to love the man she had chosen had eluded her with a suddenness that left her reeling still with the harshness of his rejection. “Why couldn’t you have really been my husband, Mylan?”
Her dark mood had not lightened by the time she joined Olgrethe later that morning. The enthusiastic young woman had tried to interest her in a fine bolt of red silk, but when she made no favorable comment upon the luxurious fabric she was asked pointedly, “Where is your mind today, Celiese? I am trying to help you create the most stunning of gowns, and you act as though we were sorting rags.”
“I beg your pardon?” Celiese leaned forward, forcing herself to pay more attention. “All the fabrics you’ve shown me are lovely, but red is so ostentatious a color, and I’d prefer not to attract such notice as surely a gown of so bright a hue would.”
Tossing the silk aside Olgrethe frowned petulantly. “It isn’t the silk at all, is it? I saw you laughing happily with Hagen last nightâwhat happened between you two that your mood is so downcast today?”
Celiese shook her head slowly, uncertain as to how to relate her latest problem, but, hoping Olgrethe might possibly be able to help her, she described her predicament. “Hagen said he is considering a voyage to my homeland, but, while I want so desperately to return to France, I do not believe I should make the journey with him.”
Olgrethe’s honey-colored curls flew about her head as she leapt to her feet, her shock at Celiese’s announcement unhidden. Married women were expected to wear their hair covered by a scarf, or at the very least pulled atop their heads in a confining bun, but Andrick considered his bride’s glowing tresses too pretty to hide and she had readily agreed to wearing her hair in the carefree style she always worn to please him. “You want to leave me now when I will need you the most? How could you abandon me when I’m expecting my first child? Am I to face giving birth all alone?”
Celiese instantly regretted having confided in the self-centered young woman and attempted to soothe her injured feelings. “I am not an experienced midwife. It will be no great tragedy if I am not with you.” Indeed, other than a cat or two, household pets, she had not seen any creature give birth, so she did not understand how she could prove helpful.
Her pretty face contorted in an angry pout, Olgrethe continued to fume, “If I mean nothing to you, what of Mylan? How can you leave the man you love without the slightest regret, without even telling him goodbye?”
It was Celiese who tossed her silken curls this time as she scoffed at the question, “Mylan cares little what happens to me, as should be obvious. It has been more than two weeks since I came here and he’s not come for me nor given me any hope that he will. He’s thrown me away as if I were trash, and if Hagen will give me the opportunity to return to France, why shouldn’t I seize it eagerly?”
“Because it is Mylan you love, not Hagen!” Olgrethe proclaimed loudly, the logic that seemed to have escaped Celiese so extremely plain to her.
After a long pause, Celiese began to laugh with a delicious giggle that bubbled up from deep within her, for Olgrethe’s show of temper was so very amusing. “Yes, I do love him, and most dearly, but of what value is love if it is not returned?”
Again taking her place beside her friend, Olgrethe offered more advice, but with a surprising twist. “I’ve not once heard you mention Erik, but didn’t you notice how black his gaze grew last night when Hagen asked you to accompany him on a stroll?”
Confused, Celiese gestured helplessly. “What has Erik to do with this?”
“It is plain you do not appreciate his attempts to impress you with his wit. He is not yet grown, and his feelings are therefore more easily bruised, but I thought you were merely being aloof so as not to encourage his infatuation. Are you telling me now you had not even noticed how he adores you? You’ve always been so perceptive in the past. Has your rudeness been unintentional?”
“Have I been dreadfully rude?” Celiese asked regretfully. “Erik is so lively and good-humored I did not dream he had grown overly fond of me.” Indeed, she had no experience with young men, for she had gone from slave to wife in the space of one day, without ever having been courted.
“Well, he most certainly has,” Olgrethe assured her confidently. “If Hagen offers to escort you home, then his feelings for you are just as plain.”
Celiese felt certain Hagen had no feelings for her other than lust, but she would not reveal that opinion to Olgrethe and risk the questions she would be sure to ask. “Please stop. I’ve done nothing to encourage the affections of either of Andrick’s brothers.”
“How can you be so foolish, they are Mylan’s brothers too!” Olgrethe pointed out heatedly.
“So?” Celiese responded,
deeming their conversation pointless.
“So why don’t we think of some compelling reason for Mylan to come home, and he’s sure to be driven mad with jealousy in less than one day.”
A sudden chill shot up Celiese’s spine, instantly filling her with a dread so deep she could barely find her voice to argue. “Never, Olgrethe, I’ll never stoop to such treachery, for Mylan would only despise me all the more were he to think I was using his brothers’ devotion to inspire his.”
Alarmed by Celiese’s dramatic tone, Olgrethe sat back. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, while she attempted to rephrase her suggestion in more acceptable terms. “It is not all that easy for me here either, Celiese. I often think of how I was cheated out of having the wedding celebration I deserved. Time for the harvest is nearly here, and it will be such a fine one this year, Aldred might be convinced to host a party that Mylan can be enticed to attend. There will be no treachery involved, only an opportunity for the two of you to be together again, and once the man is here, who can say what he will see for himself?”
“No!” Celiese insisted, her fists clenched tightly in her lap so she would not be tempted to slap the triumphant smirk from Olgrethe’s face, but she knew the willful girl would do exactly as she pleased no matter how she pleaded with her to do otherwise.
*
As always Olgrethe was clever, making the most of her feminine wiles. She spoke first with her husband, casually mentioning what little opportunity she had had to meet his kin at their wedding, revealing that the lack of warmth she had experienced as she had joined his family was a slight which still caused her pain. With a downcast expression and a soulful glance she readily convinced him she had been insulted most rudely and hoped sometime soon she might meet his relatives again, when they would be in a more festive mood and show her the courtesy she deserved.