Ah, he’d come to gloat over that victory.
What could she say that wouldn’t anger him? She wanted to tell him how wrong he’d been to banish them, but it wouldn’t change his mind. It wouldn’t change anything. It would only give him more reason to dislike her.
‘A most unfortunate situation.’ She kept her voice low and her eyes even lower.
He gave a non-committal tut at the back of his throat and she could feel his gaze on the top of her head. Sizing up her sincerity, she imagined. ‘Aye, it was. I so dislike having to use a heavy hand as I did. It’s much better for everyone when people simply do as they should. Don’t you agree?’
She nodded, certain they were now talking about her, and she squeezed her eyes shut briefly before opening them again. It wasn’t wise to let him out of her sight for long.
The room went silent, tension stretching out as she waited for him to pounce. There was a reason for this visit. She didn’t have to wait long, because he wasn’t a patient man. Soon enough, a huff of air escaped from his nose. ‘Have you determined if you are with Godric’s child yet?’
Her heart fluttered before pounding against the wall of her chest. She couldn’t trust her voice and shook her head instead.
‘Look at me, girl.’ His voice was stern, all trace of civility gone from it.
Fearing what he might do, she raised her head but knew that she couldn’t hide the hatred in her eyes. It shone there for him to see, whether she wanted it to or not. Before she could stop herself, the words formed of their own volition. ‘You should not have banished Rowena. She was with child and could die out there this winter.’
His reaction surprised her. He actually smiled so wide she saw most of his teeth. He should sharpen them like she’d heard some of the Danes did. Little points on the end would at least warn people of the sort of man they were dealing with.
‘There she is. There’s the girl I know.’
Aisly kept her tongue firmly clamped between her teeth to avoid responding to that.
‘I had an interesting talk with Rowena before she left.’ He paused to give her time to absorb that, a self-satisfied smile in place.
‘What did you do to her?’ she whispered.
He shook his head, brushing off her question. ‘It’s what she did...what she told me.’
That statement truly frightened her, because she had no idea what he meant. Rowena had nothing to tell him that would interest Aisly. Or at least nothing that Aisly knew about.
‘Ah, I see that I have your attention now.’ He stood up straighter, brushing off his tunic, taking his time, making her wait for the verbal blow that was sure to follow. ‘Beorn has lived in this village since his birth. His father and mother died within a week of each other. The ague, much like your parents. His sisters married and left. He was always a bit slow, not fit for any work except for the field. Bound to be poor. But he met Rowena when she came here with her sister, just before you married my son.’
For the life of her, Aisly couldn’t figure out where he was going with this. She sensed a trap closing in.
‘He didn’t have the coin to marry her, but do you suppose that stopped their baser natures? Nay. I found them rutting one day in the fields. I ran them off, but I’m not daft enough to believe that stopped them.’ He sneered. ‘That was a full year before they married, my dear. A full year of rutting that produced no child.’
Now she knew what he was getting at. Her heart continued its frenetic beat, though she managed to keep her face calm.
‘I find it convenient that she found herself with child so soon after marriage.’
‘It was a rather happy occurrence. As I remember, she was overjoyed,’ Aisly offered.
Wulfric laughed and shook his head. ‘A happy occurrence is how most view it. I, however, know that it was more than just coincidence. She confessed to me, Aisly.’ His face reddened and a vein throbbed in his temple as he leaned towards her. She took a step backwards to keep distance between them. ‘She told me of a potion you gave her that kept her from getting with child. She stopped taking it upon her marriage. Do you deny that?’
Aisly shook her head, uncertain how to respond. Rowena was a simple girl, one of the first who had approached Aisly when she’d moved to the village. Though they hadn’t had much in common, the girl had been kind and they’d struck up a friendship. When Rowena had asked her about delaying motherhood, she’d shared with her the draught Edyth had prepared for her. It had been only a few times.
‘Do you deny that you took the same potion to refuse my son a child?’ Spittle sprayed out of his mouth to land on his forked beard. ‘You couldn’t possibly be with child now. Not after taking that.’
‘I don’t—’
But he didn’t allow her to finish, just kept on talking as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘I want to know if you brought it here from the manor, or if Edyth prepared it for you.’
‘Leave Edyth out of this. She has nothing to do with us.’
That horrible sneer twisted his lips again. ‘Oh, I’ll be paying her a visit. I hear she’s quite friendly with you, too.’
Too? Suddenly everything became clear to her. As if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her, she was simultaneously cold and hot with anger. The realisation of what he’d done was too much. She couldn’t hold back her words any more. ‘You made Rowena and Beorn leave because they were my friends, didn’t you? You targeted them because I’d been friendly to them.’
He didn’t deny it as he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘You won’t triumph in this, girl. Once I determine you aren’t with child, I’ll make you leave, too. You w—’
A knock at the door interrupted his threats. When she looked up to see the foreigner’s broad shoulders filling her doorway, Aisly knew a relief so profound that she could have cried with it.
Chapter Ten
Magnus drank in the sight of her lovely face, pale and drawn tight with fear. She was so slight next to Wulfric’s bulkier form; it seemed almost grotesque that the man was trying to intimidate her. He’d heard nearly every vile word the older man had said to her.
Magnus had been around back, halfway between her home and his, trying to figure out a reason to go see her. She’d been obviously avoiding him all week. Even when they talked at breakfast, her words were restrictive and bland, not like the days when he’d slept in her home, not like that morning when she’d confessed about her husband. He’d spent only a precious few conscious hours in her company but found that he missed the sparkle in her eye and the direct way she had of speaking. He wanted to learn more of her secrets. He had intended to talk to her, to figure out why she’d put this chasm between them. That was, until he’d seen Wulfric go inside. Knowing that he was invading her privacy, but unwilling to stop himself, he’d crept up and listened through the wall.
He’d heard most of it. Every vile, despicable thing that had come out of Wulfric’s mouth had only served to make Magnus’s aversion to him grow. The moment the older man’s tone had changed and become more aggressive, Magnus hadn’t been able to allow the confrontation to go on any longer. It wasn’t wise to challenge someone so important to the village and someone so important to his own immediate future, but he wouldn’t allow Aisly to be bullied.
He stood almost a head taller than Wulfric, causing the man to have to look up at him. Magnus felt some vicious pleasure in that, even though he spared the coward only a passing glance. Though his fists clenched at his sides, Magnus forced his voice and face to appear calm as he addressed Aisly. ‘I’ve come as you asked, so that you could change my bandage.’
Her brow furrowed for only the quick blink of a moment before she controlled her features and went along with his lie. ‘Aye, you’re just in time. I have the poultice just over here.’ She stepped away from Wulfric and her worktable, retreating further into the house to the ta
ble where she kept her cooking utensils.
Once she was far enough away from him, Magnus turned his attention to Wulfric, who was staring at him. The man’s expression wasn’t angry or menacing now, merely calculating. It was as if he could see the undercurrent of whatever it was that constantly seemed to move between Magnus and Aisly. It was an invisible string that inexplicably tied them together. Now that he knew Wulfric was a threat to her and still had no idea as to his own identity, the danger of that string was very real. The fact that Wulfric saw that it was there terrified him.
‘Good day.’ Magnus forced a blandness to his voice, as if he hadn’t just heard everything.
‘Foreigner.’ There was a hint of a bitter inflection in the word. ‘Cuthbert says your health is improving.’
‘Aye, much improved. I’m back to wielding my sword with precision and strength.’ Now that the swelling had gone down, Aisly had adjusted the bandage so it didn’t cover his eye. He still had spells of dizziness and headaches, but he was markedly improved from when he’d arrived. Enough so that he’d begun to practise in shortened intervals with Cuthbert’s few warriors. Though his proclamation to Wulfric was as much a warning as a description of his health, he hadn’t yet been allowed to keep the sword. They packed it away in the hall after each practice.
If the man heard it as a threat, he didn’t comment on it and instead turned to Aisly. Magnus tensed and stepped into the room under the guise of walking to the stool he generally occupied while she changed his bandage. For her part she didn’t look up, just continued cutting strips of linen with a blade.
‘Good day to you, Aisly. I’d advise you to think over my words to you.’ With that cryptic warning, Wulfric left the cottage, pulling the door to with a thump behind him.
Magnus wasted no time in pulling the wooden latch on the door closed just in case Wulfric decided to come back. Then he turned to Aisly. She had stopped cutting and stood clutching the edge of the table, her shoulders shaking. He didn’t even stop to think before he crossed the room and pulled her back against him, his arms going tight around her waist. Her scent assailed him—sunshine, linen, feminine perspiration. Somehow they all blended to create a fragrance that he wanted to bury his face in, breathing it in until it became a part of him.
Her trembling increased and she turned, her small arms going around his waist. Tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks before she buried her face in his tunic. One arm stayed so tight around her waist he feared hurting her, while his other hand cupped the back of her head. When the bloody headrail hindered his ability to touch her, he slid his hand beneath, his fingers curling into her hair. He wanted to tell her not to cry, to reassure her that everything was all right, but to lie to her wouldn’t help. He didn’t know that everything would be all right. He could promise to watch over her, to not allow that ass to hurt her, but the promise would only last until he left. What would become of her once he left her to the clutches of that vile man?
‘I heard the horrible things he said to you.’ His voice was muffled against her headrail. She was so soft and warm in his arms, and the curves of her body fitted so tightly against him that he had to fight back the surge of his immediate desire. All the blood in his body rushed downward and he was certain she could hear the pounding of his heart beneath her ear. He made himself think of how fierce Wulfric had looked standing next to her to get himself under control. ‘Tell me what this is about, fair one.’
‘He despises me and wants me out of Godric’s house.’ Her arms tightened, bringing her even closer. Her breasts were fitted against his chest now so that he knew their size. He could even imagine how soft they’d be as he touched them, just filling up his palm.
What a bloody lecher he was, feeling this way when she was falling apart. He cleared his throat and pulled away under the guise of leading her to the bed to sit. He couldn’t quite release his hold on her and kept an arm around her slim shoulders. His hand went to her cheek before he could think better of it. The desire to touch her was so strong that it seemed second nature.
Lifting her face so that she looked at him with watery green eyes, he asked, ‘Why does he want you gone?’
She sniffled, rubbing her eyes with a sleeve, but not pulling away from his touch, he noted with satisfaction. ‘He never wanted Godric to marry me. I was a servant in Lord Oswine’s household. Wulfric wanted someone better for his son, perhaps a chieftain’s daughter from another village. He ultimately agreed because I was Lord Oswine’s ward and he generously provided coin to Godric on our marriage. In exchange I was to retain rights to Godric’s property upon his death.’ She shook her head. ‘No one thought his death would be so soon, or that we’d have no children to show for the marriage.’
Magnus couldn’t resist running his thumb over the trail of one lonely tear, overtaking it and brushing it away. ‘And you’re certain...there is no child?’ He didn’t mean to, but he glanced down at her belly, hidden in the skirt of the green woollen dress he liked.
She shook her head and drew in a shaky breath. ‘Nay... It’s not possible... It has been months and months since Godric and I...’ Her voice trailed off and her face reddened as she appeared to realise what she was discussing with him.
He didn’t even try to deny the selfish satisfaction he felt at those words. The thought of another man, especially a coward like Godric, having the right to touch her was abhorrent. ‘Do you have the agreement you mentioned? That should solve the issue. If Lord Oswine had made that concession, then there must be witnesses or a record.’
She nodded. ‘I already spoke to Alstan about it and he’s checking with Lord Oswine. I can’t rest until I hear from him.’ She paused and looked down at her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress.
‘You’ll hear soon. I’m confident of it.’
She looked up and the pain in her gaze twisted his heart. ‘I still worry. You see, his real anger stems from the fact that I didn’t have Godric’s child. Godric was his most favoured, his most prized. Wulfric’s angry about his death and feels I stole some part of his precious son from him.’
‘You can’t help that you didn’t bear a child, Aisly.’ But the stricken flash of guilt that crossed her face told him otherwise.
Her face fell and more tears came. ‘I did...I did as he claimed.’ Magnus put his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. ‘Godric wasn’t a good man and I couldn’t bear the thought of any child being at his mercy.’ Whatever else she said was unintelligible as she buried her face in his neck.
His hands ran up and down her back, soothing her, savouring how good and right she felt against him. Before he knew it, he was brushing his lips against her head, along her hairline. Her skin was so soft, so smooth and warm beneath his lips that he wanted more. Anger, desire and the need to protect her battled for right of place within him. That such a gentle and loving creature as she could be subjected to a brute infuriated him. Godric must have been horrible if she’d feared having his child. He despised that he hadn’t been able to protect her from that.
After a moment, she sucked in a deep breath and pulled back, wiping at her tears with both hands. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have... Perhaps Wulfric has every right to be upset. I deprived him of his son’s heir. I won’t ever have a child now, so I’m being punished as well.’
‘Nay, don’t say that. You’re kind and courageous. When anyone else would have left me to die, you risked yourself and the ire of your village to help me. You’re so brave, fair one. A warrior couldn’t be more courageous.’ Though it physically tore something in his chest to say it, he said, ‘I can’t imagine such a warrior not wanting you for his own.’
She was already shaking her head before he finished, looking up at him with those luminous green eyes. ‘I won’t marry again. I won’t subject myself to that again. Godric was perfectly agreeable until we’d married and then he was so commanding. I couldn’t have friends. Oh,
aye, I know all of the women in this village, but I don’t have a close friendship with any of them. I knew Rowena, but she barely talked to me except in secret when Godric wasn’t around. He controlled the coin I earned and even made me turn down a commission once...I think just to show me that he could have that power over me.’ She gave her head another vigorous shake. ‘I won’t subject myself to that. I know that I can earn my own way.’
‘Not all men would treat you harshly. Some men would count themselves lucky to have you as a wife and do anything to keep you happy.’
Giving him a wry smile, she asked, ‘And how would you know? You can’t even remember your own name.’
He tried not to flinch at her words. His name was the only thing he did know and yet he couldn’t share it with her. Not until he was completely certain that his name wasn’t known here as the name of an enemy. ‘I know, because I am one of those men.’
His words created a deep chasm between them. It opened up and pulled in all of the sounds, the smells, the very atmosphere in the room until there was nothing left but air thick with tension. Then it expanded, engulfing them and narrowing, sucking them down into its depths. Somehow without even moving, he found himself even closer to her. His thigh pressed against the length of her much smaller one, her torso snug against his. His arm was still around her waist, fingers pressed into the warmth just below the curve of her breast. If he moved his thumb, he could touch the underside of that plump, soft mound. Suddenly he felt like the worst sort of betrayer, using her pain and unhappiness to touch her. Aye, he wanted to comfort her, but he wanted the pleasure that comfort brought to him almost as much.
Magnus dropped his hand from her and closed his eyes for a moment to swallow down the fierce desire licking its way up his spine. He hoped she would move away, but she didn’t. She just sat there, staring up at him in shock. Focusing on her eyes was impossible because he couldn’t stop his gaze from dipping down to her lips. They were so soft, so pink and ripe that he couldn’t help but imagine fitting his lips to them and slipping his tongue between them.
In Bed with the Viking Warrior Page 11