Arranged Marriage To The Rogue (Victorian Romance)

by Veronica Wilson

  Aila couldn’t speak. No one had ever left her this breathless. Looking up at him then, she caught that love shining in his eyes and smiled to herself. Who’d have thought that, out of all the men she’d known in her life, which admittedly wasn’t as many as some women, that it’d be Dagmar to ensnare her heart?

  “I’ve loved you since I was eight years old.”

  “There’s a vast difference between the love between friends and the love I’m speaking of, Aila.”

  “Don’t patronize me as if I’m addle-brained, Dagmar. I know exactly what I meant, and so did you. I loved you, even then. If I hadn’t, there’s no way in the afterworld or the here and now that I’d have put up with you fighting me over ruling our people.”

  “No?” Dagmar challenged. “Think I’d just roll over and give it to you? I think not.”

  “Oh, no,” Aila laughed. “I’d never have made that mistake. You’re too piggish and bull headed.”

  “Damn right, woman,” he chuckled. “You ready to get out of here yet?”

  “Yeah. Unlike you, I had a terrible night’s sleep and could use some rest.” Aila laughed when Dagmar chased her to their piles of clothes. He caught her just as she grabbed her tunic.

  “Not so fast.”

  “Let me go!” She giggled until she felt Dagmar all but shove her behind him. “Hey! What the—“ Only when Aila caught a glimpse of Svenbreck did she realize that Dagmar was trying to preserve her modesty. Quickly she slipped on her tunic and, grabbing her leggings with her toes, slipped those on as well.

  “I certainly didn’t mean to interrupt, I didn’t realize anyone was using the spring bath.”

  “No one is using it at the moment. Thank you again for your courage and loyalty today, Sven.” Dagmar shook the man’s hand, even though his eyes never left Aila’s.

  “Are you coming to the Winter Solstice celebration at the end of the week?” Aila asked, desperate to relieve the tension in the air.

  “Planning on it,” he smiled. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to wash up quickly. I’ll see you all later.”

  “Alright,” Dagmar agreed. “Have a great night.”

  Dagmar walked Aila to her tent and, grabbing her hand, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Milady,” he said with a mock bow. “Will I see the lady later?”

  “You will indeed, good sir,” Aila laughed. All she could think about before, during, and after supper was that Dagmar had said he loved her. Was that true or just wishful thinking? She so wanted to believe that it was the truth. She wanted a chance at a future with him, because if any of it was a lie, she’d cease to be the woman she was and become someone she didn’t like.

  Sighing, Aila lay down on her bearskin blanket and fell asleep. And sleeping, she dreamed of a man who met her need, indulged some of her wants and knew her more intimately than any other. Still, she could never see his face in the dream, and to sink her hopes on something or someone she could commit to was still foolhardy for her ultra-cautious mind, even if a piece of her heart did desperately want to believe him.

  THE END

  Highlander's Need

  Chapter One: Business or Pleasure?

  Dagmar woke before dawn on the winter solstice. Aches and pains from the last few days reared their ugly heads as he dressed. “You’re getting too old for all this fighting,” Dagmar chided himself.

  “Speaking to yourself again?” Aila laughed lightly. She sat up and Dagmar turned to see her milky skin as she pulled the blanket up to cover herself.

  “Someone has to talk to me or I’ll go mad.”

  “Ah well. In that case I suppose I can spare you some conversation once in a while.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” he laughed. “I’ll start making a warm beverage if you’re in the mood. Since you’re up you might want to see if there’s any meat left in the storage.”

  Dagmar went out and quickly came back with enough wood for a small fire. As a leader of the Pict people of Hail, he and Aila would be the last two to see their more permanent structures built. “We need to speak with, Svenbreck and Dufguss about getting people into their homes faster. This weather won’t hold much longer before we get buried in the color of winter.”

  “That we will,” Aila said, bringing her body closer to the fire. “Thank you for this.”

  He met her dark eyes with his own light ones. “You’re welcome.” Leaning around the brewing beverage, Dagmar kissed her soundly. “Get warm and we’ll have a cup of brew before we get started. The sooner the better as I’d like tonight just for us, if that’s alright.”

  “I’d like that,” Aila smiled.

  “Good.”

  Dagmar tore a piece of bear jerky and handed it to Aila. “Cold storage is going to save our hides this winter. Bless, Dragna for being smart enough to think of it.”

  “Yes,” Aila agreed. “Bless you, Sven, and Dufguss for being smart enough, and pissed enough, to go bag the red deer and bear. Not to mention the pretty ermines.”

  “You’ve got a soft spot for them,” he grinned.

  “Can I help it if I like that their coats go white in the winter?”

  “Give it another two weeks and we’ll find only white ermine.”

  “I don’t want to kill them off. I just find them beautiful and useful. If we’re in need of meat, there’s no reason we can’t use their pelts as well.”

  “True,” he smirked. “Still, I don’t put it past you to kill them first for their skins and secondly for their meat.”

  “Guilty,” she chuckled. “Do you happen to know what became of the ermine pelts you brought back last time?”

  “I think, Aislin ended up with them. She said something about mittens for some of our littlest villagers.”

  “That will be nice, to have them clothed properly for a change.”

  “It will,” Dagmar smiled. “I’ve got to see to some reinforcements around the perimeter. I’ll see you for lunch?”

  “Always,” Aila smiled. Dagmar wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

  “I love you, Aila Dagny.”

  “I love you, Dagmar the Impossible.” Dagmar took her laughing mouth, sweeping her into desire so quickly that her moans of pleasure echoed in his ears.

  “Be good.”

  “I promise,” she winked. Raising her hand in the air, flicking her wrist and calling her power, Aila sent the warmth of the fire to Dagmar. Aila grinned when he turned back toward her.

  “Thanks for the blanket of warmth.”

  “It’ll only last about two hours, but I figure it’s a good start.”

  ***

  Aila watched Dagmar leave his tent and wondered especially at the last three weeks. How had they gone from near enemies to intimate lovers? Still shaking her head about it, Aila headed over to see Dragna about their food supply.

  “Come in child,” Dragna said. “What brings you to see me when the sun is barely up? You should be warming a certain man’s bed.”

  Refusing to blush, Aila grinned. “I warmed his bed enough for now.”

  “Does that mean we’ll be having ourselves a ruling couple soon?”

  “I’d like to hope so, although we both know, Dagmar is as stubborn as any mule we have, twice as stubborn in fact.”

  “Truer words were never spoken,” Dragna laughed. “What can I do for you today?”

  “His highness wanted me to check on our meat supply and cold storage.”

  “Meat supply is great. We should easily be good until spring. Cold storage, however, isn’t so great. Our carrots and potatoes are almost critically low. We also need more ginger and other roots we can find. Anything we can use to spice our meals.”

  “Should I go out with a party to hunt some up? What about mushrooms?”

  “We’re good on mushrooms. We planted some of the last batch that took well so we’re doing well on those. As for searching for more roots and such, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Alright,” Aila said with a stoic nod of
her head. “I’ll check in with Dagmar and make sure he knows that we’re out. Then I’ll take Aislin and Aranath with me. They’re two of the best root hunters I know of.”

  “Take a hog with you too,” Dragna advised. “He’ll help you find some roots we’ll need for medicines and poultices.”

  “Got it.”

  Aila headed in Dagmar’s direction, but something didn’t feel right. For checking the perimeter and all the building that was going on, it was eerily quiet. Aila saw the first arrow fly toward her from her peripheral. She yelled the warning just as the arrow sank into her upper arm. “War!” she screamed again, running for the gate to close it. She’d die before these bastards harmed her people. Men flowed out from the village and poured over the walls like ants. The sight put her in awe of her people. They too would fight for what was theirs.

  “Dunkerie!” a man shouted. He was a hulk of a man, easily towering over Aila.

  “Catch!” Bregnan Bulcher called, tossing Aila a sword. She caught it with her left hand and swung out with all her might. Still she barely knocked the man back. His deep laugh nearly shook her bones.

  “Is that all you’ve got little lady?” he chuckled. “No wonder your men are so pitiful. They let their women fight for them.” He raised his sword and Aila could almost see her certain death as she stood there. Calling on the anger inside her, she used the wind to have the man stumbling back, a look of shock on his face.

  “Not all of their women need help,” she grinned. He lifted his sword again, vengeance in his yes now. Thunder started to rumble angry through the sky just when he brought his sword down. Aila saw another sword swing up hard to meet his midair as she started to call the lightning.

  “Our women fight alongside us, not for us.” Aila nearly wept when Dagmar spoke. Well over six feet, Dagmar met the man swing for swing. She could clearly see that Dagmar was the better swordsman. Even if she wasn’t partial to him, she’d have been truly grateful for his assistance and leaned his way on the fight. When he’d finally bested the man, he handed a sword to her, “Get inside the gate and have Ragnic look at your arm and hand.”

  “I’m fine,” Aila returned, steely determination in her stormy gray eyes. “I can hold my own.”

  Time seemed to stand still as Aila watched those electric blue eyes bore into her. “Your arm is injured and needs to be tended, Aila. Not to mention your powers are just as effective from inside. I can’t have you out here distracting me,” he growled. One squeeze on her upper arm, where the arrow tip still sat sunken into her flesh, had Aila dropping the sword he’d handed her. “You need Ragnic to get that arrow out of your arm and look at your hand. If he clears you for battle and only if, then you can rejoin us.”

  “Fine,” Aila sighed. She picked the sword up with her left hand and went back to the gate. As she stepped through, three large lightning bolts streamed from the sky, striking three men of Dunkerie dead.

  ***

  Dagmar watched until she was safe inside before he turned to survey the battle. The men and some women of Hail were holding their own, but just barely. Dunkerie had apparently not learned their lesson last time. He’d make sure it sank in hard this time around. “Breslin!” he called.

  “Dagmar!” came the reply. He ran toward his friend and scooped up a hatchet on the way. Throwing it hard, Dagmar sank it into the skull of a man who’d gotten the upper hand on a woman who was now on the ground. “Fight!” he yelled. Even as the woman gained her footing, Dagmar turned to see Breslin in the thick of the fighting.

  With two Dunkerie men coming at him, he was fiercely outnumbered, for the Dunkerie men could fight like mad men. Smiling, Dagmar threw a knife, catching one of the men in the thigh. Seeing as that just seemed to piss him off, Dagmar lashed out with his sword, saving Breslin from a nasty scar along his torso.

  “Take your sweet time why don’t you.”

  “Don’t mind if I do!” Dagmar chuckled. Looking his friend in the eye he said. “Shall we?”

  In answer, Breslin turned and met the oncoming sword with his own, the clash of steel against steel, ringing out. Dagmar dispatched the other man easily, hacking off an arm before thrusting his sword into the man’s entrails. Pulling his bloody sword back, he bumped into Bregnan who’d come to aid his brother. “Bloody bastard,” he grinned. He turned toward his friends as an arrow whisked through the air, catching his thigh. “Aw shit!”

  Almost immediately the two brothers shielded Dagmar, but another arrow, this one from the opposite direction hit him in his torso, ripping through his side. “Bollocks,” Dagmar said as his eyes glazed over with pain. When Breslin turned to catch him as he fell, a third arrow caught him in the shoulder, forcing its way through his arm and into his shoulder cavity.

  “Fall back!” Bregnan called as Breslin hefted Dagmar’s weight. “Fall Back!”

  Dagmar couldn’t tell where he was at as fatigue swept through him. The pain came in waves, some mild and others were breath stealing. His mind was foggy as well, but he could remember his name and the events that had landed him wherever it was that he was at. The first time he’d tried to sit up, pain radiated through his body until he’d collapsed and he fought the almost constant darkness that wanted to swallow him.

  He’d tried to talk, to ask what day it was. Everything he said though, came out as a groan. “Try not to talk,” Aila said, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. Barely able to open his eyes, Dagmar gave into the fatigue once again and slept.

  ***

  Aila pressed her lips together, worrying over the gash on Dagmar’s side. “I don’t have the power to heal him.” The fact that it went straight through was a good thing, but it didn’t mean he was out of the woods yet. “He needs, euccomia bark and papain to aid his healing,” Ragnic said. Also, some valerian root if Dragna has any, for pain relief. He could also use some turmeric for the swelling. I’ll see to his other wounds in time, but to get him on the road to recovery, we need those especially for the gash in his side.”

  Aila was out the door before Ragnic stopped talking. She practically flew across the village to Dragna’s tent ignoring her injured arm that Ragnick had put in a tight sling. “Aila?” the old woman said. “Sit down.”

  “I can’t,” Aila said, unable to control the shaking in her hands. “I need some herbs Ragnic sent me for. Turmeric, eucommia bark, papain, and valerian root.”

  “Ragnic is a good man,” Dragna smiled. “I have everything but the eucommia bark and turmeric.”

  “Then I’ll take these and go hunt down the others.”

  “Do you think it’s wise to go out there tonight?”

  “I can’t just leave him like that, Dragna. He would do it for me.”

  “That’s because he loves you, Aila.”

  “I love him too,” Aila said, her voice wavering. “I…I have to go.”

  “Be safe child,” Dragna called as Aila left.

  She all but threw the herbs at Ragnic, assuming he’d know which were which. Then she was back out the door with her horse saddled in less than ten minutes. She spoke quickly with Aislin and Aranath, both agreeing to go with her. “Thank you ladies for joining me. Without these herbs we could lose Dagmar and I just can’t let that happen.”

  “We understand,” Aislin said. She looked keenly out over the snowy landscape. “The good news is that there should be plenty of eucommia trees around to collect. The bad news is that turmeric might not be so easy to find.”

  “How do we recognize it?” Aila demanded, getting a quirked eyebrow in return. “Sorry. I’m a little testy, please how do we find it?”

  “We look carefully,” Aislin said sensibly. “Turmeric grows big, beautiful leaves and will winter over nicely. The issue is finding the plants to begin with.”

  The women agreed to split up once they reached the edge of the woods. “We need to meet back here in an hour.”

  “Everyone knows how to leave a trail?” Aila asked.

  “Yes,” both women returned in unison. Like
mother, like daughter.

  With forty-five minutes of searching relentlessly, Aila had managed to find some serious turmeric. She took both leaves and a whole plant, unsure what part Ragnic needed.

  “Wow,” Aislin said with an impressed nod of approval. “I found some good eucommia bark as well. If you want to run these ahead, I’ll go after Aranath and make sure she gets home safe.”

  “Sure,” Aila said, offering her thanks before she headed back. “If you’re not back in an hour, I’ll come searching.”

  “Agreed.”

  Chapter Two: Inner Healing

  Dagmar finally felt reasonably normal. At least he thought he did. Either that or the afterlife was very sweet. This time when he opened his eyes Aila’s beautiful gray irises were staring at him. “You look tired,” he whispered.

  “I’m alright,” she smiled unable to push her tears back. “Just waiting for you to move your feet right now. I’m tired of pampering your sorry arse.”

  “Pampering is it?” Dagmar laughed wincing as pain seared through his side. “I feel as if someone beat me with a tree trunk.”

  “Sort of,” Aila grinned. “In the form of three very well-placed arrows. One more and I might not have you here with me.” Dagmar looked at her again and realized just how fragile she was. She didn’t like to admit it, which was part of the reason he’d fallen for her, but she was all woman and that thrilled him.

  “I’m made of tougher stuff than that,” he smiled. “Ragnic say when I could get out of here?”

  “Not yet. I think he’d like to make sure you’re well on the mend before we move you.”

  “I feel great compared to whenever before was. How long have I been here?”

  “Since just after sunup. I wasn’t sure Ragnic could get you back in shape, but he did amazing work.”

  “You haven’t given up on me have you darling?”

  “Not yet, but I’ve told Ragnic if it lasts much longer someone else can come baby you.”

  “Heartless bitch,” Dagmar chuckled, wincing when the pain in his side flared. “Got me good didn’t they?”