The Viking's Touch

by Joanna Fulford

  Wulfgar regained the use of his voice. ‘A noble sacrifice.’

  ‘I do not intend to be a victim.’

  His lips twitched. ‘I’m pleased to hear it. Such a role sits ill on you.’

  ‘I was being serious.’

  ‘So was I.’ He paused. ‘You seek permanent protection from me—what do you offer in return?’

  ‘The earldom of Drakensburgh.’

  ‘A tempting prize.’

  ‘Of course I would not expect you to stay here all the time,’ she continued. ‘I know that yours is a roving life. I would only ask that you leave behind a force sufficient to protect the place.’

  ‘Which you would govern in my absence.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No,’ he replied.

  ‘Then you…you mean you would stay?’

  ‘I mean that such an idea is madness. Besides, I am not good husband material, my sweet.’

  ‘I would make no demands.’

  He stood up, casually crossing the intervening space between them. ‘But how do you know that I would not?’ His presence seemed to fill the little room; the very air between them seemed suddenly energised. ‘How do you know that, in seeking to escape Ingvar and your northern earl, you would not be putting yourself into a far worse situation?’

  ‘If I had thought so, I would not be speaking to you now.’

  ‘I’m flattered, truly.’

  ‘I do not speak to flatter you.’

  He smiled wryly. ‘No, forgive me, I should have known better. All the same I am honoured by your trust.’

  ‘Don’t mock me, Wulfgar, please.’

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  Something about his expression then caused her pulse to quicken. ‘Then…will you help me?’

  ‘Anwyn, I wish I could, but…’

  ‘I have no one else to turn to.’ The green eyes met his in mute appeal. ‘No one.’

  ‘Don’t cast me in the role of hero.’

  ‘I ask only that you consider it.’

  For the space of several heartbeats he was silent, his mind a mass of troubled memories. He was not good husband material; over the last six years he had learned to live with that knowledge. Of course, he had been much younger then: wild, undisciplined, unable to curb the restlessness in his nature. There had been plenty of time since to regret the folly of his youth. Learning from past mistakes was an integral part of maturity. Looked at objectively, Drakensburgh was nothing to do with him. He should probably walk away. And if he did walk away, what then? It shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow the thought rankled. She had helped him when he needed it. Could he abandon her now their situations were reversed? Could he abandon another woman as he had before? Their situations might be vastly different but the need was still there.

  Unable to follow the thoughts behind the impassive face, Anwyn prayed silently, clenching her hands so tightly that the nails dug into her palms.

  ‘If I were to agree to this,’ he said at last, ‘it would be because you understood the terms on which it would depend.’

  Hope leapt. He wasn’t turning her down flat. ‘Name your terms.’

  ‘I would ensure that Drakensburgh was protected, you’d have my word on that. But I wouldn’t stay for ever, Anwyn. I have a duty to my men and my ship, not to mention an arrangement with Rollo.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I might be absent for a long time—years, perhaps.’

  ‘I understand that.’

  ‘There’s something more.’ The blue eyes met and held hers. ‘While we were together… You’re a very beautiful woman and I would be lying if I said I didn’t want you to share my bed.’

  Her heart leapt towards her throat and coherent thought fled, along with the possibility of speech.

  Misreading that silence, he schooled his expression to careful neutrality and continued, ‘However, that would be for you to choose. I would not demand anything you were unwilling to give. Nor would I promise you my undying love.’

  The words caused an unexpected pang. However, he was at least being honest with her. ‘I understand that, too.’

  ‘Very well, then.’

  ‘You mean you’ll do it?’

  He nodded. ‘Under those conditions.’

  Relief mingled with emotions less clearly defined. ‘I accept your conditions.’

  He surveyed her keenly for a moment. ‘Then will you seal the bargain with me, Anwyn?’

  ‘My lord?’

  Her wits returned in a blood-thumping rush as he drew her against him, looking into her face, his eyes questioning. It might have been wiser to pull away, but she could not. He bent his head, his lips brushing hers, the touch light and tentative at first, then, as he felt her relax against him, more persuasive. The kiss was gentle and lingering, quite unlike that other time, and yet her heart thumped just as hard. At length he drew back and his hold slackened a little, enough to allow breath, but not escape.

  ‘When is this bargain to be met?’

  With an effort she gathered her thoughts again. ‘The sooner the better.’

  ‘Then on the morrow, if you will.’

  It wasn’t quite what she had anticipated, but perhaps he was right. If they were to commit themselves thus it might be as well not to have too much time to reconsider. All the same she could not but be keenly aware of how contrary it was to the accepted mode of doing things.

  ‘It will have to be a quiet affair,’ she said. ‘Will you mind?’

  ‘No. Besides, there will be time enough to let everyone know afterwards.’ He smiled faintly. ‘I imagine we’re going to get some interesting reactions.’

  ‘Yes, I imagine we are.’

  ‘Not all of them will be friendly. Are you prepared for that?

  ‘As prepared as I’ll ever be.’

  ‘Well, you have never lacked for courage.’

  Again it wasn’t what she had been expecting, but the words had sounded sincere. Moreover, they reflected the expression in his eyes.

  ‘I will try to do you honour, my lord.’

  ‘You already have,’ he replied.

  Some time later, after Anwyn had left, Hermund returned to find Wulfgar deep in thought.

  ‘Is everything all right, my lord?’

  ‘Everything is fine. However, there’s something I must tell you…’ He related the substance of his recent conversation.

  Hermund’s jaw dropped. ‘Getting married?’

  ‘That’s right. Incidentally, that’s just for your information at present.’

  ‘I’ll be as silent as the tomb.’ Hermund shook his head. ‘I’ve got to hand it to you, lord, you’re a fast worker. Not that I blame you, of course. She’s gorgeous—and rich.’

  ‘This wasn’t my idea, it was hers.’

  ‘Do you know, I had a suspicion she liked you. Not that anyone would wonder at that, either. You make a handsome couple.’

  Wulfgar eyed him askance. ‘For the love of Odin, could you forget about romance and stick to the practicalities?’

  ‘Aye, right. When’s the wedding, then?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  ‘She is keen, isn’t she?’ Then, as another thought occurred to him, Hermund added, ‘What about Rollo?’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Well, I imagine the plan has changed now.’

  ‘Not at all.’

  For the second time in the space of a minute Hermund was taken aback. ‘Oh.’

  ‘This is a marriage of convenience, nothing more. Of course I’ll ensure that Drakensburgh is well protected.’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting Ingvar?’

  ‘Who could forget Ingvar?’

  ‘You know what I mean. He isn’t going to like it.’

  ‘His opinion is of no interest. All he has to understand is that Drakensburgh is mine and Lady Anwyn, too.’

  His companion nodded. ‘I’m sure you’ll make it clear.’

  ‘I shall, and that right soon.’

  ‘He won’t poach on yo
ur preserve after that.’

  ‘He’d better not.’

  ‘No man in his right mind would do that.’ Hermund hesitated. ‘Doesn’t it bother you, though, the thought of leaving her alone all that time? I mean, you could be away for years.’

  Wulfgar’s jaw tightened. ‘It was part of the agreement. She knew that at the outset.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘She will still have Ina. Besides, she’s intelligent and competent, perfectly capable of running things in my absence.’

  ‘Of course she is. It’s just that…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Isn’t it going to be a bit lonely for her?’

  ‘She will have plenty to occupy her in my absence.’

  ‘Oh, well, that’s all right, then.’

  Wulfgar eyed him sharply, but his companion’s expression was quite bland. All the same, the words left a strangely sour taste.

  ‘So when are you going to tell the lads?’

  ‘Not yet, but as soon as I can.’

  Hermund grinned. ‘I’ll look forward to that. In the meantime, is there anything you need—for tomorrow?’

  ‘I don’t think so. No, wait. There is one thing…’

  After the conversation with Wulfgar, Anwyn returned to the women’s bower, her heart thumping. She was trembling a little, too. Unable to settle, she paced the floor slowly, trying to order her chaotic thoughts. She had just put her future into the hands of a man she had known only a matter of days and yet, underneath anxiety, was still the instinct that he could be trusted to keep his word. Drakensburgh would be secure and the people safe from the depredations of men like Ingvar. She could watch her son grow to manhood without the permanent shadow of threat hanging over him. And she… Anwyn smiled ruefully. Wulfgar had made his position clear on that score. What mattered was that he had agreed to help her. She could expect nothing more from him.

  When Jodis came in a little later she told her the whole, or at least as much as she needed to know. Jodis’s eyes widened.

  ‘You’ve actually done it, my lady?’

  ‘Yes, heaven help me. I’ve done it.’

  ‘I’m glad you have.’ Jodis’s face lit in a smile. ‘I believe Lord Wulfgar to be an honourable man; he will deal fairly with the people here—and with you.’

  ‘I hope you’re right. I hope I’m right. My instinct tells me I am and yet I feel as nervous as a cat on a raft.’

  ‘What does your heart tell you?’

  ‘This is not an affair of hearts, Jodis. It is a matter of business.’

  The maid lowered her gaze. ‘Of course it is, my lady.’

  Anwyn crossed the room to the clothes chest and opened the lid. ‘Will you help me find something to wear tomorrow?’

  For the next hour gowns were examined and rejected and with each one her uncertainty grew. In the end she selected a dark blue, intricately embroidered with gold-coloured thread, to be worn over a fine linen kirtle. A light headrail completed the outfit, held in place with a slender gold fillet. It was a rich and elegant costume, one that she hoped would do honour to the occasion and to her bridegroom.

  The word sent a tremor through her. For all that this was to be a marriage of convenience, Wulfgar would still be her husband. Even there he had been honest. It was his legal right to take her if he wished, and yet he left the choice to her. She had not let her imagination dwell on the more intimate aspects of their relationship. Now she was going to have to confront it. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want you to share my bed… She bit her lip. How would it be to share his bed? She knew enough about him now to guess that he would not use her roughly, but even so, their coupling would mean nothing to him beyond the sating of physical desire. The wife he had loved was dead. Not only that, she had died young; she would always remain like that for him, her beauty undiminished by time.

  Anwyn squared her shoulders. It was no use thinking in those terms. She had chosen this; she would have to live with the consequences—whatever they were. In the interim she needed to speak to Ina.

  He heard her in silence, his craggy face impassive. Only when she had finished did he venture to speak.

  ‘I wish you happy, my lady.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She paused. ‘You do not venture an opinion on the matter, though.’

  ‘It is not my place to venture an opinion. You are doing what you believe to be best for Drakensburgh.’

  ‘Indeed, Ina, I pray I am doing the right thing. I do truly believe that Lord Wulfgar will be open and just in his dealings with the people here.’

  ‘Thus far there has been nothing in his manner to suggest otherwise,’ the old warrior replied, ‘but only time will tell.’

  ‘Can I still rely on your support?’

  ‘That is a given, my lady. I thought you knew that.’

  ‘Forgive me. It’s just that things have become so complicated of late and…well, I wasn’t sure you would approve this latest step. The consequences are so far-reaching—for all of us.’

  ‘Aye, they are, my lady. So I’ll continue to watch your back.’

  Retracing her steps to the women’s bower, Anwyn went to find Eyvind. In truth, she had been putting off the moment when she would have to tell him about the great change that was about to happen in his life. He had not been close to his father, had feared him. The thought of having another, and a near stranger to boot, might not be welcome.

  Eyvind listened in wide-eyed silence as she explained, as simply as she could, what was about to happen. Anwyn had been half-prepared for tears and protests, but none were forthcoming. The silence drew out.

  ‘Shall you like having Lord Wulfgar as a father?’ she asked.

  He lowered his eyes and shrugged. It was hardly an expression of rapture, but nor was it outright rejection. Had he been older, she would have said he was reserving judgement.

  ‘Lord Wulfgar won’t be here all the time,’ she went on. ‘He and his men will have business that takes them to different places.’

  ‘On the ship?’

  ‘Yes, on the ship.’

  ‘Will he take me on the ship?’

  ‘One day, perhaps, when you are older.’

  He nodded slowly. Anwyn drew him to her and dropped a kiss on his hair. God send that he would grow to manhood in peace and safety. She could do no more to try to ensure it.

  Chapter Twelve

  The wedding was a small and private ceremony; Jodis had brought Eyvind and they were joined by Ina and Hermund. For a moment bride and groom faced each other in silence. Wulfgar, too, had dressed himself with care for the occasion, clad in the deep blue tunic he had worn once before at the feast that first night. It became him well, she thought—indeed, rather better than well. It was also a perfect complement to her gown. Not that he could have known that, of course. He smiled at Eyvind for a moment. Then the blue gaze returned to meet hers.

  ‘You look wonderful,’ he said. ‘I had thought your beauty could not be enhanced, but I see now that I was wrong.’

  It was doubtless just a courtesy, she thought, but even so his words brought a warm glow to the core of her being. Torstein’s assessment of her appearance had only ever been confined to an occasional grunt. How very different it all was from the last time. Then she had been sick with dread. Her stomach was fluttering now, too, but for very different reasons. No matter what the circumstances of this unconventional match, Wulfgar was a dangerously attractive man.

  He took her hand. ‘Shall we?’

  The touch was light, but it set her flesh tingling nevertheless. No other man had ever made her feel as she did in his presence. It was effortlessly done and he seemed quite unconscious of the reaction he aroused; unless he was playing a much more subtle game, in which case it made things doubly hazardous.

  As they went into the small chapel, Anwyn realised that she knew nothing of her future husband’s beliefs and had not asked him. Seeing the expression of dismay that flickered across her face, he squeezed her fingers gently.

&nbs
p; ‘When my word is given it is good.’

  Relief washed over her and she returned his smile, albeit rather shyly now. Together they walked to meet the waiting priest. Anwyn had removed her ring earlier, a gesture that was symbolic as well as practical. It occurred to her then that Wulfgar might not have considered the need for a replacement; it was unlikely he would have. Or, having thought of it, he might not have been able to find one.

  She was mistaken. He not only produced one, it was beautiful. Made of gold, it was wrought in a cunning and intricate design of flowers and leaves. When he slid it on to her finger it was a near-perfect fit. And then the words were spoken; his in a tone that was clear and assured; a marked contrast to her own more halting responses. A short time later they were pronounced man and wife. He drew her close to him then and claimed the kiss that was his due, in a lingering embrace that turned the core of her being to liquid warmth.

  Then Jodis and Hermund came forwards to offer their congratulations. Eyvind stood quietly in the background with Ina, looking on. Wulfgar surveyed the child for a moment and then his eyes met Ina’s. The old warrior remained impassive, but led the boy forwards. Wulfgar smiled and held out a hand.

  ‘Come, walk with us.’

  Rather hesitantly Eyvind moved forwards and, guided by Wulfgar’s arm, came to stand between him and his mother. It was a simple gesture, but it was both tactful and kind. Anwyn’s heart warmed. She gave Eyvind’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and then looked over his head to the man beside him. Whatever happened between them now, she could tolerate much if he would be kind to her son.

  Together the little group returned to the sunshine outside. Wulfgar paused, regarding his bride steadily.

  ‘I suppose that now we had best make this matter known.’

  ‘Yes, the sooner the better, I think.’

  ‘I must speak to my men in private,’ he said. ‘There are things we need to discuss that concern them alone. Hermund, we’ll meet at the ship in an hour.’

  ‘Right you are.’

  ‘I’ll talk to the rest tonight after meat.’