Taming His Viking Woman

by Michelle Styles

  ‘It is very kind of you, but…’ Sayrid stopped, unable to continue. Hrolf had obviously given her lack of feminine clothing as the excuse for why she had missed the evening meal last night.

  She had spent ages washing off the evidence of their joining. It bothered her more than it should have that someone might find out that they had waited until they arrived back here to consummate the marriage. And then she had taken to her bed and slept. She had watched the training this morning from behind a post, but had decided against directly confronting Hrolf. Instead she had gone to one of the storerooms and started sorting the weapons. Normally setting such things to rights calmed her, but today it made her feel uneasy and lost.

  The blue cloth danced in front of her eyes. Deep in her soul, she wanted to wear it and have Hrolf look at her with appreciation in his eyes.

  ‘Go on,’ the older woman urged. ‘See if we guessed your size correctly. You’re a married woman now, my lady. You need to look like the wife of a sea king.’

  Sayrid took the blue gown. The wife of a sea king with no womanly skills. The array of shields seemed to mock her. Lusting after this dress was not going to change what she was or how other people saw her.

  She hated that she wanted Hrolf’s eyes to light up when he saw her. A tiny ache started behind her brows. Wishing for things to be different was not going to change how they actually were.

  ‘Do you like it, my lady?’ the nurse asked.

  ‘Where did you find the cloth?’ she asked, holding the gown against her body.

  ‘Inga and I looked in many chests in the ship. I found this half-made up. We noticed your gown was in a state yesterday before Hrolf brought you his trousers and tunic. We wish to make a present to the bride. We’re sorry.’

  ‘It is very kind of you, but unnecessary.’ Sayrid put the gown to one side. ‘As you can see, I do have other gowns. This one has served me well for years.’ She kept quiet about the fact that every other gown she owned was in worse shape.

  The older woman’s gaze seemed to hone in on the patches and the faded cloth at the hem of Sayrid’s gown. ‘You cannot wear rags. You are the wife of a wealthy man. What is Hrolf thinking of? He has silks and gold-shot cloth. But this will do for now. His eyes will sparkle when he sees you, yes?’

  Sayrid choked back the truth—it would take more than clothes to make her into the sort of wife Hrolf required.

  ‘Silks are far too fine for every day. I will settle for good sturdy wool or perhaps linen in the high summer,’ Sayrid said, giving the silk one last stroke. It rippled in the light. ‘I will keep it for best.’

  ‘Inga thought the blue would match your eyes. Summer eyes, she called them.’

  ‘Inga has a way with words.’

  ‘She would like to be a skald, but there are very few women skalds. I have explained this.’ Magda shuffled her shoulders importantly. ‘Hrolf wishes for his daughter to be a credit to him and marry well.’

  ‘So she sews and tries to excel at women’s work.’ The words tasted bitter in her mouth. ‘Did you see the cakes I burnt this morning? Thora, the cook, has banished me from the kitchen. I even toppled over the cat’s milk on my way here.’

  Silently she added that, at this rate, she’d never be able to travel again. Mastering even the simplest woman’s task appeared to be beyond her. Every time she made the slightest error, she heard her stepmother’s voice mocking her.

  ‘You will make the right sort of wife for the Sea-Rider and the right sort of mother for my Inga. This is the third morning that I read the signs and they are good. The Norns approve.’

  ‘There are precious few women warriors, but I was one.’ Sayrid tapped a finger against her mouth. Silently she vowed that she’d help make Inga’s dream come true. ‘I will see what can be done. Where is she?’

  ‘Inga is too tired and has fallen asleep in her bed. But she made me promise to bring this to you as she wants to see your summer eyes sparkle.’ The old woman smiled. ‘I will wake her for the meal and perhaps she sees you in it, yes? Always this way with the travelling. The next day she sleeps.’

  ‘Between you, Inga and my sister, my poor skill won’t be missed.’

  ‘If you try, you will succeed.’ Magda thumped her chest. ‘I teach you if you teach Inga to sail a boat and fight with a sword.’

  ‘They are not occupations for a lady. Her father…’

  The nurse tapped the side of her nose. ‘But she wishes to learn. She speaks of nothing else as we stitch this dress this morning, but she fears asking the giantess.’

  There was a way she could help Inga. Hrolf might object to her learning about swords, but there were other things she could teach, like tafl or the art of reciting poetry. Sayrid hugged the gown to her chest. ‘I’ll find a way to get Hrolf to agree.’

  ‘You need to look like a woman, not wear the clothes of a man or a thrall when you ask for anything. He likes women in his bed, not boys.’

  ‘To keep you happy, I will try it on.’ Sayrid struggled out of her old gown.

  ‘Shall I help?’ Magda started to go around.

  ‘I can do it,’ Sayrid said quickly before Magda saw the scars. But the old woman had frozen and was staring. ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘Did you get these from fighting?’ Magda asked, pointing and making a little click in the back of her throat.

  ‘Something like that. It happened a long time ago.’ Sayrid scowled. ‘Shall we get the dress on?’

  Magda looked like she wanted to say more, but instead she pressed her lips together and lifted the new dress over Sayrid’s head.

  Unlike the one she had worn at the wedding, this one fitted, falling to a few inches above the floor. It swirled gently about her ankles as she turned. It made her feel soft and feminine. She stopped abruptly. She’d never expected to feel that way.

  ‘Do you like?’

  ‘You and Inga are geniuses with your needles. This is the best dress I have ever had.’

  Magda smiled. ‘Hrolf will only have eyes for his bride now.’

  ‘What has my wife been doing now? Except for watching the men training from behind a wooden post?’

  Sayrid’s cheeks burnt. She rapidly went over the conversation. Surely there was nothing incriminating. And she had kept her scars covered for the most part. ‘How long have you been standing there? What do you want? If you ask any of the servants, they will be happy to find it for you.’

  ‘I’ve been standing here long enough. And the servants can’t give me what I need.’

  She pinched the bridge of her nose and attempted to breathe steadily. Her heart wanted there to be a wealth of hidden meaning in his words. ‘The keys to all the cupboards are hanging up. Nothing is to be hidden. I gave orders. If you wish to inspect where the women hide during an attack, it can be arranged.’

  He motioned to Magda and the nurse disappeared. ‘You did not appear at supper last night. Or at breakfast. And despite my thinking the training would bring you out, you stayed away.’

  ‘You don’t want a wife who trains with the men.’

  He raised his brow. ‘Since when did my wishes have anything to do with your actions?’

  ‘Isn’t that what a wife is supposed to do?’ she asked the floor.

  ‘You’re avoiding me.’

  ‘I burnt the cakes.’ She backed away slightly, knocking over a stack of shields. She gave a faint cry and started to pick them up, only to send the spears crashing in the other direction as the sleeve of her new dress caught them. ‘I’ll clean up this mess.’

  ‘Did you hear me ask?’ He took a spear from her and placed it back against the wall. ‘I’d half expected that you would have gone to check the supplies at the safe houses—a necessary task, but one that would take you somewhere I couldn’t find you. Yesterday…in the barn…’

  ‘In future try the fish pond,’ she said quickly before he could say what a mistake it had been.

  She concentrated on piling the shields up. Keeping busy would stop her from
looking at his fingers and thinking about the way they had played against her skin in the barn. ‘Fishing relaxes me and with this amount of mouths to feed every effort helps. However, it is just as well that I’m not hungry as the trout proved elusive.’

  Her stomach grumbled, giving voice to her lie.

  He held out some bread and cheese. ‘I suppose I’ll have to eat this myself. Training makes me hungry.’

  ‘You discovered my trail of destruction in the kitchen.’

  He raised his brow. ‘No, they were eager to sing your praises. Your people love you.’

  ‘Why are you here, Hrolf?’ she asked, keeping her gaze firmly on the shields and spears. ‘I doubt you suddenly need another sparring partner.’

  ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But I missed arguing with you over it.’ He placed the food on the bench beside her. ‘Go on. A peace offering.’

  ‘I’ve barely been home since I left in the spring.’ Sayrid eyed the bread and cheese. Hunger gnawed at her stomach. It took all of her restraint not to grab the food and wolf it down. ‘It is only natural I should be curious. With you and your warriors staying here, I’d hardly want to go short. I’m attempting to be a good wife. It is the only way I will get to travel.’

  He tore off a chunk of bread and held it out to her. She grabbed it. The first bite tasted like ash, but the second was heaven. ‘You need to look after yourself better.’

  She wiped her mouth. ‘I do well enough.’

  ‘You slept somewhere else last night.’

  ‘I went to where I always sleep.’ Sayrid bit her lip. She could hardly confess about hearing the sounds of merriment and feeling utterly alone. ‘Habit, and my eyes closed the instant I lay down.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘At least one of us slept.’

  She waved an impatient hand. ‘It seems ridiculous to pretend that you wanted anything more than to consummate the marriage. You must have been relieved I found somewhere else to sleep.’

  He put an arm around her shoulder. ‘I worried about you. I took you far too roughly.’

  She shrugged him off. Her traitorous body thrummed from the touch. The evidence of his worry was less than convincing. She’d hardly hidden. ‘I know how to be a warrior. I know the way warriors think and how they treat women once they are finished with them.’

  He flinched as if she had struck him.

  ‘But you know nothing about me.’ He enfolded her in his arms, pulling her close so she could feel the hard planes of his body. ‘A passion exists between us, Sayrid. What happened in the barns happened because we both wanted it, not because of some ill-conceived duty. My only regret is that I took you too quickly, before you were properly prepared. I wanted to apologize for that. If I’d stayed…it might have happened again and then…’

  ‘Do I look like some wilting flower?’ She twisted out of his arms. If she stayed there, she’d lose any capacity to think clearly. The trouble with Hrolf was that he always made her feel off balance. She was used to things being a certain way and now he had her wanting to believe that they could be different.

  Her heart thumped in her ears. This was far worse than when she had faced him in the contest, but she kept her chin up. He dropped his eyes first.

  ‘When I saw the evidence of your virginity something inside snapped and I realized what I’d done,’ he said in a voice so low that she barely heard it. ‘Say you will forgive me. Give me a chance to show you how good it can be.’

  She crumbled the remaining bits of bread between her fingers. ‘It hurt a little, but parts were exciting.’

  His arms instantly came around her. ‘You mean I drank far too much last night and have nursed a bad head all morning for nothing. Next time, you will see.’

  ‘You deserved the bad head for leaving me,’ she mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder.

  ‘I left you?’ The blue in his eyes deepened. ‘You were the one who fled.’

  ‘You wanted me to go.’

  Hrolf tightened his arms about Sayrid. Silently he thanked the gods that she had not completely turned from him. He treated her badly yesterday. Today he would make up for it. He had made himself all kinds of promises before he went looking for her—how he would be distant but kind, how he would explain that discord between a lord and his lady meant for an unhappy household…except by all the trees in Freyr’s grove, he wanted her again and his body ached to be inside her once more. And when he couldn’t find her, it had hurt.

  ‘Maybe I did,’ he said against her hair and breathed in her clean scent of sun-warmed hair.

  Her direct gaze met his. ‘You are admitting to a mistake?’

  ‘I’m far from perfect.’ He put her from him and tried to regain control of his body. He would not become like his father and allow a woman to have power over him. But equally he didn’t want to be cold and remote. ‘I want you to enjoy our time together.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because your pleasure will increase mine.’

  ‘You certainly know how to make a woman feel special.’ Her eyes rolled. ‘I understand that you’re sorry it happened that way, but it did. Perhaps it is for the best. I won’t tell anyone that you did not perform up to your usual standards. You may rest assured, your reputation as a peerless lover will remain intact.’

  He stared at her. She was deliberately twisting his words.

  ‘Don’t provoke me.’

  A blaze of passion flitted across her face, turning it from pleasant looking to totally irresistible. ‘Why? What can you do to me that you haven’t already done?’

  ‘What have I done to you?’ he rasped with the last vestiges of his legendary control.

  ‘Do I have to make a list?’ She tried to force her features into a scowl. ‘You know as well as I and I don’t have time!’

  His final grip on his self-control slipped and he grabbed her, roughly lowering his mouth to hers, stopping her words. His body shook with need for her.

  She gave a small cry and her body became pliant against his. Her lips opened more fully and allowed him entrance.

  He drank from it, plundering its depths. His hands crushed her body to him, trying to bend her will to his. He needed more. Last night’s pent-up passion and frustration poured out of him.

  She gave a little moan in the back of her throat, but it was enough to shock him back to where they were and what he’d been about to do. Outside the storeroom, he could hear the swords clanking as his men continued with the training. Silently he cursed. He’d nearly done it again. One taste of her and he behaved like the worst sort of raider, taking her as roughly as before.

  ‘Tonight. My bed.’

  Sayrid’s fingers explored her mouth. Her lips ached, but the place deep inside her ached more. She wanted him to continue. Her mind raced with all the excuses. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘The next time I take you, I intend for there to be a bed so that we can both enjoy it. And I’ve no wish to spoil your new dress.’

  ‘The next time?’ Her heart thudded in her chest. ‘You mean there is to be more than once?’

  ‘You didn’t think I’d be content with only once?’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘Be in my bed tonight or suffer the consequences.’

  Her heart soared. She had had it all wrong and her stepmother had been mistaken in her predictions. Her husband knew precisely what she had been and he wanted her for more than the legal consummation of the marriage. And her stepmother had been partly wrong about their joining. It had hurt, but not with the searing pain that she had predicted.

  ‘And the consequences would be?’ she asked in a husky whisper.

  ‘Severe, but ultimately immensely pleasurable.’ Hrolf regained a small measure of control. Taking Sayrid in this storeroom was not how he behaved. It had been bad enough that he had taken her so swiftly the first time, but he had needed to be inside her. Since then he’d been unable to get her and her response out of his mind. He kept coming up with new ways in which he wanted to enjoy her. He wanted to open her up to passion and
have her an equal partner in bed sport. ‘I was generous last night and allowed you time to recover. Losing your virginity can be painful. You would have been too sore to enjoy it properly.’

  ‘You would say that.’ Her tongue moistened her lips.

  Inwardly he groaned. He wanted her, but it would have to wait. He had to put duty first. ‘Do not seek to challenge me on this, Sayrid, but know I will find you wherever you choose to hide. And I will carry you to my bed. Naked if I have to.’

  He turned on his heel and marched out of the storeroom.

  * * *

  Sayrid lay under the furs in the large bed, trying to breathe normally and not panic.

  Waiting here seemed like a better option than being carried out of the hall. Naked, with her back exposed for all to see.

  The torchlight highlighted the various tapestries which now hung in the room. Where her father had favoured gory battles, these tapestries had an altogether different subject. The tips of her ears burnt as she realized just how intimate the tapestries were.

  Hrolf appeared in the entranceway with a set face. The lines around his mouth relaxed slightly as he spotted her.

  ‘I’m here as ordered.’ Sayrid tore her gaze from the scene of a particularly close embrace.

  ‘All ready, I see.’

  She kept the furs pulled to her chin and hoped he’d douse the torch. She wanted her stepmother to be wrong about her back, but she also wanted one more night in his arms if she turned out to be right. ‘I can’t afford to have any more gowns ripped. Magda and Inga were already far too kind.’

  His eyes crinkled at the corners, transforming his face. ‘All for the sake of a gown?’

  ‘Yes. A gown which your daughter made.’

  Her voice faltered and she wondered if he expected her to invite him into the bed. Or if she should offer him a drink. She sank into the pillows, wishing she had considered this before.