Arranged Marriage To The Rogue (Victorian Romance)

by Veronica Wilson

  “Is this enough, Dragna?”

  “Ah, yes Aila. Thank you. Our people will eat well tonight.”

  “Good.” She patted the older woman’s cheek and smiled before she went out to find Dagmar.

  Searching everywhere, Aila was about to give up when she caught site of his tunic blowing in the wind. Odd that he wasn’t wearing it. Aila picked it up and looked around for him. Hearing his voice, she followed it to a small and secluded clearing she often used to meditate when the world became too loud. She didn’t realize until it was too late that Dagmar Stalson wasn’t alone.

  “Who is that?” asked a young woman in a state of undress. Aila tried to run, but Dagmar was much faster, and too strong for her to resist.

  “Aila? What are you doing here?” Looking up into icy, serious blue eyes, Aila ground her teeth.

  “I came to tell you that my people will have dinner tonight because I saw fit to catch some fish from the sea. I can see, though,” Aila said, looking around his body at the woman who sat on the ground, “that it isn’t a concern to you whether our people eat or starve.”

  “The hell it isn’t,” Dagmar said, his blue eyes holding that edge of iciness. “I gave Dragna a whole half of a boar just this afternoon.”

  “Terrific. And how far do you think half a boar is going to go when feeding our people?”

  Irritation raced over his face, turning his eyes to shards that pointed right at her. “Our people will eat tonight, Aila. All you need to concern yourself with is keeping a man’s bed warm.”

  The slap to his face was so easy. Her hand reached out and stung against the rough texture of his two-day beard.

  “You’re an asshole,” Aila spat.

  “And you’re a prying bitch,” Dagmar spewed. “Concern yourself with womanly tasks, Aila, and leave the fate of our people to me.”

  The moment ruined, Dagmar tossed the woman her clothes and walked away. Frustration drove him after Aila before he could stop himself, straight into her quarters. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “That’s easy. I’m the rightful ruler of our people, not that you’ll ever admit it.”

  “You’re right about that. I don’t care if you’re a Forsberg, we both know that our people need a leader. No offense Aila, but you’re not a leader. Not by a long shot.”

  “Why? Because I don’t scratch myself in public and beat my chest like an idiot?”

  “No, because leading sometimes takes coldhearted calculations, something you’ve never been good at.”

  “You’re a pompous prick,” Aila said, planting a smirk on his face.

  “How long has it been for you, Aila?”

  “How long has what been?”

  “How long has it been since a man’s had his hands on you? By my estimation, it’s been too long. You could use a good romping, if you ask me.”

  “No one’s asking you.”

  “Come on, Aila. We’re friends. We’ve been friends since before your parents brought us here. Why is it that we have to be at each other this way?”

  “Because I am the rightful ruler of our people, Dagmar.” Aila said, her eyes turning opaque as power surged through her. Sighing she added. “I understand that you want to lead, but my parents settled this land and I am their only heir.”

  Dagmar couldn’t keep the grin off his face. The first time he’d witnessed Aila’s powers was right after her parent’s deaths. New to them and their effects, she’d grown a tree instantly from a sapling, only to twist and deform it in her grief. He was probably the only one who understood that they weren’t just a part of her, they were as much of her as her heart and soul. “And I’m standing here telling you that you don’t have what it takes to lead our people.”

  “And who are you to say so?”

  “The only other person who can.”

  Dagmar watched Aila as she paced around her quarters. She had grown up nicely during the time they’d been in Pictland. Her parents had led the way in the siege of the region from the Romans. He could see why she felt she should lead. Just as he could see that she wasn’t built to lead, at least not alone.

  “Aila, you’re a beautiful, capable woman. Why is it that no man has claimed you?”

  “Because I’m not a cow to be bought. I don’t have any interest in being some man’s idea of the perfect little wife. If I ever marry, it’ll be because the man and I know that we are equals.”

  “Well, good luck to the man that captures your heart. He’ll need it.”

  Before he said more, Dagmar turned and stepped out into the sunshine. Bright and beautiful, the sun was high in the sky though still the temperatures were more than adequate to chill a man to the bone, especially if he wasn’t involved in rigorous activity.

  “Dragna, when will supper be ready?”

  “Four hours, Dagmar. We’ll eat well thanks to you and Aila.”

  Grunting his displeasure, Dagmar wondered if he’d ever go a day without hearing Aila’s name. Probably not, especially when everyone knew it was the fortitude of her parentage that had seen them claim this land as their own.

  ***

  Aila wondered now how she and Dagmar could have ever considered each other friends. Remembering him as a young man brought a grin to her face. They had ridden in the underbelly of the boat halfway to Pictland before anyone noticed them. Her parents would have whipped her for certain if Dagmar hadn’t taken the blame for her. It had been as much her idea as his, but he’d stepped up and taken her punishment as his own.

  So how had they gone from that, to this bickering all the time? Stepping out of her room and looking at the sun, she realized she was going to be late for supper if she didn’t hurry. The sun was already dipping low in the sky and, as the interim leaders, both she and Dagmar were expected to gather everyone together before the last meal of the day.

  “You ready?” he asked, clearly impatient.

  “Yes,” she replied, choosing not to justify her tardiness with an excuse. “We need to talk afterward.”

  “Understood,” he said, cutting off any further comment.

  Some time later, Aila stepped out of the supper tent and breathed deep of the cool, crisp night air. Stars were just starting to twinkle in the sky and Aila felt free until Dagmar approached. “You wanted to talk?”

  “Yes. We need to find a more permanent solution to our little problem.”

  “That’s easy enough to do. Concede the throne to me and we can get on with living.”

  “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

  “Certainly you don’t expect me to concede do you?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Aila said. “I’m thinking more along the lines of split ownership, if you will. You rule your people and I’ll rule mine all under the Pictland name. Or I can rule for spring and summer and give you winter and autumn.”

  “Give me the harder months to see if I can hack it? That’s extremely clever of you Aila. Not that I expect anything less,” Dagmar scoffed. “How about you rule by my side. I’ll leave you rightfully in charge when I take out hunting parties. And, if luck has it that I die out there, you’ll have your rule and reign with no one to challenge you.”

  “Absolutely not,” she groaned. “I won’t be second to you, Dagmar.”

  “What really bothers you? The fact that I would be a better ruler than you? Or maybe it’s that you don’t know nearly as much as you think you do, and it grates on your nerves knowing you’d have to ask for help, especially from the likes of me.”

  Without so much as lifting a finger, Aila had not only called thunder to crash through the sky with a vengeance, she’d also managed to make it rain, soaking through the fabric of only Dagmar’s tent, not that it made her feel any better. “I always knew you were full of yourself. I just didn’t know until now that you were also full of shit. Curse you, Dagmar.”

  Aila was so frustrated; she didn’t even see the hunting parties off the next morning. She assumed that everyone would forgive her, and while Dagma
r was away on his first long hunt, he just might have time to see how right she was. It was one thing to have your people wonder exactly who was making the decisions. It was another to undermine the rightful ruler just because you had a craw in your ass. If Dagmar didn’t get his attitude right and let her become the official ruler of the Pict people, she’d have to leave.

  ***

  Dagmar watched a herd of red deer pass by and took aim at a beautiful stag. If this trip was successful, they’d have enough meat to last the winter through. But right now, he just wanted this one kill. Taking a steady breath, he pulled his arrow back to his cheek, his eyes squinting in the sunlight. As if sensing his presence, the stag stopped moving, his head lifting to sniff the air. Dagmar let his arrow fly, watching it sail through the air and sink into the large deer, just beyond the left shoulder. The stag bucked wildly, stumbling as it tried to run.

  Similar arrows flew, and as the herd cleared twenty deer lay dead, waiting to be processed. Dagmar delegated men to strip the deer of their pelts and clean and wrap them. Dragna and the other women would break them down into boots, mittens, tunics and other clothing the group needed. The meat was quickly quartered and wrapped as well. Everything was packed and they were off after the next quarry.

  Four days later, the men returned from their very successful trip.

  “About time you brought home something besides a lady,” one man joked, slapping Dagmar on the back.

  “We’ll eat well now, for sure.” Dagmar dropped the canoe, letting others in the camp deal with the meat and pelts. He was tired and wanted the peace and quiet of his quarters.

  “You did well.” Sighing, Dagmar turned to see Aila standing in the doorway.

  “Thank you,” he said, absorbing the shock of her beauty after the long absence. Never having been much more than an arm’s length from each other, he’d taken it for granted that she’d always be there. “Do you think it’s enough?”

  “I’m sure Dragna and the other women will be able to make do with what you brought in.”

  “The pelts sure will help.”

  “Yes, they will,” Aila agreed.

  “You’re dressed up today,” he said, noting her all-white ermine tunic.

  “I was asked on a walk by Svenbreck.”

  “Oh, nice.”

  “I just wanted to stop and say congratulations. I, for one, am glad to see you stepping up and showing at least an aptitude for true leadership.”

  Dagmar bit back the retort that wanted to spill from him. “Have fun with Sven, I’m going to get some rest before supper.”

  “See you later.”

  Chapter Two: Leaders

  “I can’t believe there’s only three weeks until the Solstice,” said Sven. “It seems like just yesterday we were celebrating the coming of spring.”

  “I know,” Aila said, trying desperately to keep the conversation going. “Is the Winter Solstice your favorite celebration?”

  “Yes. Aside from my birthday, of course.”

  “Well, I suppose we all like to be the center of attention on our birthdays. Makes me wonder how twins do it, always having to share their day and with a sibling.”

  “Perhaps that’s why they’re always so close, because they always have to share.”

  “Perhaps,” Aila agreed. “So Sven, if you don’t mind my asking—if you had to pick a ruler to lead our people, who would you pick?”

  “You mean between you and Dagmar?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “To be honest, and please don’t punch me for saying this, each of you has strengths that benefit our people. However, you also have weaknesses. You do the most good if you could choose to rule together, although I doubt that will happen any time soon.”

  “Why?”

  “Because both of you are strong leaders; neither one of you wants to concede to the other.”

  “Damn. And here I was, hoping you’d just acquiesce and say I was the better leader.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “It’s alright. I wanted honesty and you gave it to me. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Svenbreck smiled. “I suppose I should get you back before supper starts without us.”

  “Yes,” Aila agreed. “Thank you for the walk. It was nice to spend some quiet time in your company.”

  “It is me who should be grateful,” Svenbreck said. Aila watched his lips descend and met his shining brown eyes with hers. She could have turned him into a braying jackass for being more forward than she’d have preferred,but the knowledge that Dagmar might just be watching was enough to have her meeting Sven’s lips with her own. The kiss was soft and quick, a proper thank you, if she was any judge. “I hope you’ll allow me to take you on a walk again, when you have a moment.”

  “I appreciate that, Sven,” Aila smiled. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

  “Sounds good.”

  ***

  Dagmar watched Aila walk toward the food tent with Sven by her side. He’d seen her lift her face to his and had seen the kiss they shared. It was about as passionate as a turnip. He could have attributed it to the fact that they were in public, but Dagmar had a feeling that the two of them were either sending mixed signals, or one of them wasn’t as interested as the other.

  “How was the walk?” he asked when he saw Aila in the leaders circle later, alone.

  “It was nice, quiet, beautiful. I haven’t been to that part of the lands in a long time.”

  “How was Sven?”

  “He was good company, easy to talk to.”

  “You mean you two didn’t… never mind.”

  “Not everyone needs to be intimate to enjoy each other’s company, Dagmar.”

  “Why else would you go walking with him if you weren’t going to—you know.”

  “Because I like getting to know someone. I, especially if I enjoy their company, want to know the person before I ever think about doing that.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re a God just because you haven’t slept with as many men as I have women.”

  “Not even close,” Aila said, stepping away and leaving Dagmar to his own devices. “Welcome everyone. Thanks to Dagmar and his hunting party, we not only have red deer for tonight’s supper, we also have enough to last at least the winter. Also if you’re in need of any new garment, please let Dragna or myself know. The pelts won’t last forever, so first come, first served.”

  At the mention of new pelts, the whispering started. One couple talked about a small blanket for their soon-to-be-born baby. Another mother mentioned a tunic for her son who had severely outgrown his last one during the past summer.

  “Let me also say this,” Dagmar spoke up, stepping up next to Aila. “If you have a good tunic or pair of boots that can be passed down to someone else, please bring them to Dragna. We will make use of what we have first, before anything new is taken up.”

  Everyone seemed to agree that it was a good plan to not waste what had already been made and so people mingled as food was served. “That was a really good idea,” Aila said. Knowing compliments didn’t fall easily from her tongue, Dagmar grinned.

  “I do have them from time to time, you know.”

  “I do know. Once in a while.”

  “You never let up, do you?”

  “Neither of us do. It’s part of the reason we’re at each other all the time.”

  Grabbing her hand, Dagmar pulled Aila outside, where they could talk in peace. “I have it on good authority that the village thinks we should join together and rule Hail as one unit.”

  “Good authority, huh?” Aila laughed. “Please, tell me whose authority.”

  “Look, Aila,” Dagmar sighed. “We both know that if we don’t do something, we’re going to end up splitting into two villages. We also know that surviving that way is nearly impossible.”

  “So, let me rule our people,” Aila concluded, stubbornly. Her face was so set, he was half afraid she’d turned herself into stone.


  “Not a chance,” Dagmar said with a shake of his head. “Not alone.”

  “Why not?” Aila demanded. “I’m capable.”

  “Oh honey, you’re more than capable. The people who want me to rule, however, will never accept the leadership of a woman.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Don’t give me that look, Aila. You know damn well you can’t do this by yourself.”

  “But you can?”

  “Whether or not I can has nothing to do with you. It’s just a matter of who’s best suited to do this. We both know that it’s me.”

  “Over my dead body,” Aila said, storming off. Dagmar went after her, easily pulling her into his tent.

  “Look. It doesn’t have to be this power struggle between us. What happened to the Aila who worked with me? The girl who fed me information and helped me out?”

  “She grew up,” Aila said, her green eyes shining. “To realize that her best friend was a man she no longer trusted.”

  “Aila—” Dagmar started.

  “Spare me, Dagmar.”

  “Now wait just a cursed minute,” Dagmar said, his temper shoving him forward. His hand gripped her arm, pulling her back against him. Her bright green eyes fired, making him grin before he did the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Dagmar Stalson, son of the elder Strad Stalson, claimed Aila’s mouth for his own. Heat permeated everywhere as his lips roamed over hers. He had a moment to think that she was stiff as a board before her powers sent a ripple of electrical current through him, sufficiently stealing his breath.

  “Bloody awful!” Dagmar moaned, doubling over in pain. “It was just a kiss, Aila. It’s not like you haven’t ever been kissed before.”

  Before he could get his bearings, Aila turned and walked regally out of his tent.

  ***

  Aila sought the solace and isolation of her own quarters, her mind and heart much too muddled for company. Only when she was inside with the flap closed, did she allow herself to touch her lips. They still tingled from the pressure of Dagmar’s lips. Oh, she’d been kissed alright, of that Dagmar was right. But he couldn’t know that she’d been waiting nearly her entire life to be kissed like that, to be kissed by him.