Arranged Marriage To The Rogue (Victorian Romance)

by Veronica Wilson

  “You little welp,” Dagmar said, his temper boiling. “This has nothing to do with our parents, Aila.”

  “My ass it doesn’t,” she defended. “I am my parent’s only heir. They founded our village and when they died, the leadership should have passed to me.”

  “At barely sixteen?” Dagmar scoffed. “Please. You could barely wipe your own ass then, let alone lead and be responsible for an entire village.”

  “And you would have done so much better at eighteen?”

  “No,” Dagmar smiled. “But now I guarantee I could best you, love.”

  “Don’t you dare touch me Dagmar,” Aila spat when Dagmar drew closer.

  “Oh come on, sweetheart, you know how much I want you.”

  “Enough to have Asgurda warming your bed,” Aila reminded him. “Although rumor has it all you did was warm her up.”

  The arm that grabbed her was like an iron clamp around her waist. “Do you have any idea why it is that I can’t seem to find another woman attractive enough now?”

  Aila had never seen Dagmar so frustrated. His blue eyes were glacial in their rigid stare. Aila couldn’t explain why she touched him then, what possessed her to do it. Her hand cupped his cheek before she could stop herself. “Perhaps you now know what I’ve always known.”

  “What’s that?” Dagmar spewed.

  “That meaningless trysts satisfy the flesh, but they do nothing, absolutely nothing, for the soul.”

  “So, what would you have me do? Should I forget that I ever touched you? Maybe I should touch you again and see if I can get it out of my system.”

  “I thoroughly enjoyed our time together, Dagmar, but I’m far too busy now to entertain you for long.” Aila wouldn’t close her eyes as she wriggled to get free of his grasp. She wouldn’t think too long on how amazing it was to feel Dagmar’s skin against her own. She had her own things to do and Dagmar clearly had his. If he wanted to take every woman in their village to his bed she wouldn’t care. Her people deserved more than a philandering ape for their leader, and she’d see that they had it.

  “Dagmar, our people deserve more than you for their leader.”

  “I know exactly what our people need,” Dagmar said, abruptly releasing her. Aila dipped below the surface and sprang back up, her breasts breaking the surface. With severely clear eyes Aila watched Dagmar lunge for her. He caught her foot, dragging her beneath the surface again. But this time when she came up, she spit a jet of warm water in his face.

  Aila couldn’t hold in the giggle that rippled through her at the look on that face. This was the Dagmar she remembered, always so serious until you looked beneath that stony exterior to find the fun-loving boy. The only difference now was that she knew exactly what he felt like when that stony exterior got nice and hard.

  “You don’t know what anyone needs,” Aila laughed. “Except maybe for yourself, but even then I’m not so sure.”

  “I know what you need,” Dagmar said, those cool blue eyes challenging her.

  “Oh?” Aila grinned. “Do tell.”

  “I’d rather show you,” Dagmar said.

  “No thanks,” Aila said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “What do you mean no thanks?”

  “I mean,” Aila said, her gray eyes stormy, serious. “That I don’t consider being a notch in your bed post an accomplishment.”

  “Who said anything about being a notch in my bedpost?”

  “It’s sort of a given with you. No offense,” Aila smiled. “I was with you and I genuinely liked being with you. Then I realized that you obviously aren’t built for just one woman, and I don’t like sharing.”

  ***

  Dagmar hadn’t fully appreciated how much Aila had matured. He’d always seen her as a little girl and, despite their being together, he knew he still did. “Aila,” he sighed. “I haven’t been with anyone since you and I… I know you saw Asgurda with me this morning, but I couldn’t… we didn’t do anything.”

  “That’s why her breasts were practically spilling out of the sorry excuse for a blanket she had?”

  “I couldn’t be with her like that,” Dagmar said, looking straight into Aila’s beautiful eyes. “I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

  “Flattery is cold comfort, Dagmar, especially because I know you.”

  “So you don’t think even a man like me can change?”

  Aila’s laugh was so automatic that Dagmar wanted to throttle her, just like he’d often wanted to do when they were kids. “Why would you change? You wouldn’t gain anything from it.”

  “Not even your respect?”

  “Probably not,” Aila smiled. “Dagmar, I like you. I just don’t want to sleep with you again. I need to get going. Tonight’s the night we see what our people want from us. One way or another, we’ll find a ruler to reign over Hail.”

  Dagmar watched Aila step out of the spring water and nearly groaned with want. He’d had the sexiest woman in their small village in his bed, yet he hadn’t had the sense to keep her there. Frustrated, Dagmar climbed out and dressed. He went in search of Breslin and Bregnan Bulcher.

  “You two up for some hunting?”

  “You just came back from a hunt, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but considering I’d like to strangle most of the women in this village, I figured shooting an animal was a better outlet for my stress.”

  “Stress?” Breslin chuckled, his sandy beard moving with the laughter. “What do you have to be stressed about? As far as I know, you’ve bedded nearly every female in our village save maybe Dragna, and you have a shot at ruling over Hail.”

  “Bedding too many women gets complicated,” Dagmar said, not a note of sarcasm in his voice. “And my ruling over Hail isn’t nearly as secure as I’d like to think. Aila is one stubborn bitch of a woman.”

  “Ah, she turned you down, didn’t she?” Bregnan said, elbowing his brother who also laughed.

  “She told me that she didn’t want to be another notch in my bedpost, as if I’d actually keep track.”

  “Some men would. Maybe she’s seen others like you and made her comparisons.”

  “I don’t care what she’s done,” Dagmar said, frustrated all over again, that he’d have to explain his sour attitude. “Do you two want to go hunting or not?”

  “Sure,” they said in unison. “But aren’t you supposed to talk with the villagers tonight?”

  “I’ve got at least five hours before I need to be back. An hour there and an hour back gives us three solid hours to shoot something.”

  “I like the way you think, Dagmar,” Bregnan smiled. “The more I can get this out of my system now, the less drama I’ll have to deal with once I’m married.”

  “I still can’t believe you two are settling down. If I would have pegged anyone to remain a bachelor for life, it would have been you two.”

  The three men headed for the only long boat they had with their spears and packs slung over their shoulders. As they were loading the boat, Aila walked by.

  “Dagmar?” Aila said, her voice showing her surprise. “We have the meeting with the village tonight.”

  “I’ll be back in time.” Turning, he left her standing there and climbed easily into the longboat, dropping his pack at his feet. “See you later, Aila.”

  ***

  Aila had never met anyone else who could be so flippantly irritating. It was all she could do to not use her powers to make him regret it, especially considering she was pretty sure he did it on purpose. She was so ready to punch him that she had to remind herself to relax her hands so she didn’t inadvertently punch someone innocent. If only she could find one other person who irritated her as much as Dagmar, then she’d have an excuse to lay her fist into someone.

  “I give up,” Aila said, stepping into the food tent.

  “Oh?” Dragna answered as she kneaded ground venison.

  “Men are pigs and I’m fed up with them.”

  “Men, honey, or just one man?”

&
nbsp; Aila looked into those wise green eyes before huffing out a sigh and sitting down. “Dagmar, to be specific. It doesn’t seem to matter what I say or do, he digs his heels in and is virtually immovable.”

  “Did it ever occur to you, darling that Dagmar is the way he is because you’re the way you are?”

  “What?”

  “Men, whether they like it or not, often change their behavior because of a woman. It could be that Dagmar acts the way he does toward you because he’s uncomfortable with how you make him feel.”

  “But we’re friends, we’ve always been friends. Even when we weren’t the only children here, we remained friends.”

  “Perhaps that’s the problem. Maybe you should try being more than friends.”

  “Or not being friends at all,” Aila said, a sadness pressing hard into her heart. Would a friend toss you out of his bed just to replace you with someone else less than a week later? Dagmar’s words came back to her: “I haven’t been with anyone since you and I… I know you saw Asgurda with me this morning, but I couldn’t… we didn’t do anything.”

  The hurt came back again, stinging her eyes and burning her heart so that she couldn’t speak. When Dragna knelt in front of her, her wise eyes full of empathy, Aila smiled with none of her heart in it. “Maybe you should take some time out to see just how you feel about Dagmar. Saying you’re just friends with your mouth doesn’t mean that your heart is listening.”

  “It hurts,” Aila said, tears brimming in her eyes. She gave a watery smile and wiped at her lashes to push back the tears.

  “It usually will, sweetie,” Dragna smiled. “Why, my Holden used to make me swoon at the drop of a hat. He could also rattle my cage like no one else ever could. I find that when a friendship changes to stages like that, there’s usually more to the story of how the two people involved truly feel about each other.”

  “Maybe,” Aila said. Standing up, Aila bent over and kissed Dragna’s freckle-covered cheek. “I’ll see you later?”

  “You can count on it. Can’t feed this horde without me.”

  Aila left the food tent with a chuckle in her throat, thankful that she’d stopped to talk to Dragna. The old cook was far wiser than Aila and never seemed to run out of patience or words of knowledge for anyone who needed them.

  ***

  Dagmar watched as Breslin took down a massive buck. They’d come upon a herd of red deer nearly as soon as their feet had hit the peninsula. So far, between the three of them, they’d be taking back three red deer at least. “Should I try to bargain for a cow or two?”

  “I wouldn’t complain if we had something to eat besides venison.” Bregnan smiled. “Maybe Aila would finally see that you can provide for our people.”

  Dagmar grimaced. “I doubt she’d see much of anything she doesn’t already want to see. Let’s take our largest deer and see if a farmer around here will trade us for an undressed cow if we agree to dress this one down for him.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Breslin said. They approached a farmer with a decent spread, the downed buck sitting easily on Dagmar’s shoulders.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Dagmar said, approaching the man slowly. “We were wondering, my friends and me, if you’d be willing to trade us one of your cows for this deer meat. We’d gladly dress it down for you, make sure it’s all ready for the winter.”

  The man looked at the three of them and grinned. “Sure, son. Where about are you from?”

  “Not too far from here, up near the North Sea. We often come here to hunt the red deer, but seeing as we have plenty, we thought maybe someone would trade us a nice cow for an already processed deer.”

  “Why, sure.” The man smiled. “Come over here with that deer. You fellas get him processed and I’ll gladly give you one of my three-year-old heifers.”

  “Could we possibly bargain for a pair?” Bregnan said, carrying his buck on his broad shoulders.

  “You mean a heifer and bull?”

  “If you’d be willing,” the younger man smiled.

  “Well,” the farmer said, scratching his full, thick beard. “I suppose if you’d be willing to give all three bucks I could let one of my pairs go. Do you want them slaughtered here or…”

  “Oh no,” Breslin smiled. “We’ll take them back with us as a breeding pair. My brother and I are to be married soon. Starting out with a breeding pair of viable cows would be ideal when our brides arrive.”

  “Alright then,” the older gentleman said. “You dress down all three bucks for me and I’ll give you a breeding pair of cows for you to start out with.”

  “Excellent,” Breslin and Bregnan said in unison. The older man laughed. “You’re the first twins I’ve seen in a long, long time. I suppose that bond never dims.”

  “No sir,” Breslin smiled. “I’d keep this lug head around no matter what happened to us.”

  “It’d be me who keeps you around, little brother.”

  “Little my ass,” Breslin said, punching Bregnan, not-so-lightly in the arm. “Barely an hour separates our births, big brother.”

  “An hour’s all it takes.” The men made quick work of the three bucks, separating them into large hunks of meat for the farmer. When they were done, they hung the pelts to dry and returned to him.

  “This pair has already produced a calf this year, but come spring, she’ll be ready to have another,” the old farmer said, shaking each man’s hand in turn. “You let me know how it turns out for you. If it doesn’t, I’ll give you another to replace her.”

  “Thank you,” Dagmar smiled. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “You as well,” he said with a smile. “Take those three pelts with you. I’ve enough clothing and, judging by you men, the people you care for might could use them more.”

  “Thank you.” Dagmar turned and led his two friends, each one leading a cow, to their boat.

  ***

  Aila braided her hair into an intricate knot and slid her body into her white tunic and white leggings. She slipped on her white ermine shoes and stood, wishing there was a way to see herself. Walking over to the food tent, she ignored the way the men eyed her. Their stares should have told her what she needed to know, but she couldn’t help asking, “How do I look, Dragna?”

  “Wow,” Dragna smiled. “You out to knock a certain man off his feet?”

  “More like plant a certain man on his ass.” Aila smiled. “Are they back yet?”

  “If they are, their hunt wasn’t successful.”

  “Hm,” Aila muttered. “I’ll go see for myself. Maybe I’ll have the pleasure of dragging him back here while ranting in his ear the whole way.”

  “A word of advice…”

  “Yes?” Aila turned to see Dragna.

  “Men who are uncomfortable with how they feel about a woman, their bark is usually worse than their bite. Dagmar is a different case altogether. His bite can hurt, so watch yourself.”

  “I know what I’m about with him,” Aila reassured the old cook.

  Aila went to see if the men had returned and sighed in relief when she saw the long boat docked near the pier. Turning, she headed for Dagmar’s tent and, without knocking, opened the flap and stepped in. The instant dark had her eyes working to adjust to the change in light, so she flicked her hand and had a flame dancing in midair.

  “You have a bad habit of sneaking up on me, Aila,” Dagmar said, a smile in his voice. “You look incredible. Nice flame.”

  “Believe it or not, I do have a knack for dressing up when I have a mind to.”

  “I like this mind,” Dagmar grinned, touching a hand to her face.

  Truth be told, she looked beyond incredible. She was downright gorgeous, and that edgy need she so easily stirred in him now, gripped his loins so tight it was hard to breathe. Blowing her off wasn’t a possibility anymore. Aila, his childhood friend, had blossomed into a stunning, headstrong woman who challenged him in ways he never expected.

  “We need to get to the tent.”


  “Dressing as you speak,” Dagmar grinned. “Although, as fetching as you are I could easily stop and help you out of your own clothes.”

  “I already told you that I’m not interested in sleeping with you, Dagmar,” Aila sighed, sounding tired. “I just want to settle this between us so we can all move on. I want to see our people hanging wreaths from their homes, stringing holly through the pathways. I haven’t heard one person singing any of our traditional songs and even the children aren’t excited. The Solstice is less than two weeks away.”

  “Do you think I’m unaware of that fact?”

  “No, I just wonder if you care,” Aila challenged, fury lacing her words.

  “What happened to us, Aila? Where’s the little girl who worked with me, who defied her own parents so that I could make the voyage with you?”

  “She came to realize that her friend was a womanizer,” Aila said, bitterness dripping from her voice. “And decided being friends with him was nearly an impossibility.”

  “Aila,” Dagmar said, his voice full of regret. “I’m not a womanizer, not anymore.”

  “Have a change of heart in the last twenty-four hours, did you? How convenient.”

  “Dammit, Aila! Must you always be sarcastic?”

  “It’s the most effective way to deal with you, so, yes.”

  “I have a mind to bend you over my knee and give you the paddling your parents weren’t able to.”

  “Try it and you’ll find the heel of my hand against your pompous nose, you bastard.”

  “Bastard, is it?” Dagmar said. He was quicker than Aila gave him credit for. His large hand had her wrist in a vice grip and, before she could protest, he’d yanked her closer, his oak-sized arm wrapping tightly around her waist. “Sometimes, Aila, you catch more bees with honey.”

  She knew the kiss was coming and met it full force. It swamped her with need before she could even come up for air. Electricity crackled between them as his lips moved roughly over her flesh, as if the need in him couldn’t be controlled. The rational part of her mind, the part that told her she didn’t want this, battled the way he made her body feel. “Stop,” she breathed. His hands continued to touch her, to ignite in her what only he could. “Dagmar, stop!” Pushing back from the fog, Aila conjured an invisible wall between them.