‘I promised your brother and father freedom. We said nothing about you.’ He picked up some light golden bracelets and anklets and swiftly fastened them about her ankles and wrists before he changed his mind. The gold marked her out as his official concubine, rather than an ordinary slave. All of the men would leave her alone. But right now all they showed was the paleness of her skin.
‘Some day you will find a woman you care for and you will seek to keep her from harm’—his mother’s explanation about why she wore the golden shackles.
‘To mark you out as mine,’ he explained at her look of horror. ‘I would not have you mistreated by anyone.’
‘A shackle is a shackle.’ Liddy curled her hands into fists. She hated the unaccustomed weight on her ankles and wrists. ‘I thought we were friends.’
‘You were the one to end our friendship,’ his soft words reminded her.
‘We were never supposed to see each other again!’
‘It’s a small island.’ His eyes glittered. ‘And the truth is that your father was prepared to sell you. I merely took him up on the offer. If you want to be angry, be angry with him.’
She bowed her head and allowed her arms to drop. Her shoulders hunched and the defiance leaked from her like water running out of a dam. He was right. Her father had engineered this and she could never forgive him for that. ‘I know who to blame and don’t need reminding.’
‘Well, then...’
‘I’ve no idea why you would want a woman with a curse on her face.’ Her voice wobbled on the words.
‘A curse?’
‘My birthmark.’
He laughed. The sound bounced off of the walls, causing Coll to bark.
‘What is so funny?’
‘Curses like that fail to frighten me.’ All merriment fled from his face. ‘If I am cursed, then the cursing happened long before I met you.’
‘It is a bad curse. I can prove it.’ She pressed her hands together, but the words about how the ship capsized and Keita and Gilbreath met their end stuck in her throat.
‘My husband died and my father sold me as a slave,’ she finally gasped out.
His fingers brushed her birthmark. ‘As far as curses go, it is but a little one. Forget about it. Whatever you have done in the past, your life starts again now.’
Liddy stood completely still, unable to move. She wanted to turn her face into his palm. He had touched her voluntarily, knowing that she bore a curse. But if she told him about Keita and Gilbreath and how the guilt ate into her soul, he would back away from her in horror. She couldn’t face that today. She had a responsibility to her cennell and needed his good will.
‘I will keep your words in mind, but I always will be of the Cennell Fergusa.’
‘Did your cennell declare you cursed?’
‘It is something I can’t change.’
‘Have you tried?’
Her tongue moistened her lips. She didn’t know why, but her heart sang slightly. ‘You know nothing about me, not truly.’
‘Nevertheless...you are Eilidith, property of Sigurd.’ His stare grew ever more intense, calling to something deep inside her, to that small part of her that wanted to believe he was different from the other Northmen. ‘I am your master and what I say happens. No more talk of curses. You brought me good fortune and will continue to do so.’
‘I will keep your wishes in mind,’ she whispered. Inside she felt as if a gigantic door was slamming shut. Nothing was going to be the same again. She did not belong to Cennell Fergusa. She belonged to him. ‘My grandmother thought it fortunate as well.’
‘You see. It is up to you to choose.’ Sigurd brushed the red welt. She winced and it made his guts ache. He noticed her pulse beat slightly quicker. She was not as indifferent to him as she might like to pretend.
He noticed that she kept her eyes away from the bed. Sigurd grimaced. His body ached far too much to do anything about bedding her, even if that bed was in a fit state. He would wait for the arrival of his linen, furs and tapestries before seducing her, but he would do it. He wanted to taste her mouth again.
‘What do you want from me?’ She took a step backwards and glanced towards the bed again.
‘The usual,’ he said.
‘The usual?’ She paled and her eyes flitted to and fro. ‘That...that is not possible. Even my husband...found other women...when I... Is this how you repay my help?’
He instantly regretted his impulse to tease her. She was acting like a trapped animal. She had been married before. She knew what passed between a man and woman. An unexpected stab of jealousy hit him. Her husband must have been a blind fool if he took other women. Or perhaps Eilidith had found the experience distasteful and had encouraged it.
‘I’ve never forced a woman, Liddy, and I have no intention of starting with you. When you come to my bed, it will be because you want to be there.’
All colour except for a spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose drained from her face. ‘Why would I want that?’
‘Because you will.’ He inclined his head, wondering what sort of blind brute her husband had been. Her insistence at being cursed showed her fear. Liddy had flame-coloured hair and passion to match when she forgot her fear. He planned on making her forget—a pleasant challenge for him. ‘I tasted your mouth, but I am a patient man and can wait for the final surrender. Far sweeter that way.’
She chewed her bottom lip, turning it the colour of berries in the summertime. ‘The kiss before you went out to the fight...it was a mistake. An impulsive mistake.’
Sigurd pretended indifference, but his body thrummed as if someone had plucked a harp. ‘Pity. I quite enjoyed it.’
She backed up three steps. ‘My heart is buried on the hillside where...where my husband lies.’
Sigurd let his hand fall to his side. An unaccustomed flare of anger and jealousy surged through him. ‘Who said anything about your heart? I am talking about your body meeting mine.’
Liddy spoke to the ground. ‘I am trying to be honest... My husband...’
He captured her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes. ‘Lie to yourself by all means, but don’t lie to me. I have no interest in your heart. You are free to love who you want. I’m not interested in love or emotional attachments. I was cured of that years ago. Beyla—’
Liddy wrenched her chin away. She had made a grave error. Sigurd lacked pity or any of the finer emotions. She was pleased she’d used Brandon as an excuse rather than explaining about Keita and Gilbreath and their deaths. Her children were not going to be served up so that he could mock them. She might have lost everything, but her heart was theirs. ‘Thank you for telling me the truth. I won’t make that mistake again.’
Coll gave a low growl.
‘You seem angry about something,’ he said with deceptive casualness as he put a restraining hand on Coll’s neck. ‘You are making Coll nervous.’
Liddy clicked her fingers and Coll moved to stand beside her. ‘Coll is my dog. I know his mood better than anyone. Thank you.’
He raked his hand through his hair. ‘You are beyond a doubt the most perverse of creatures. You always have to be right, but you are wrong to fear me.’
‘I don’t fear you.’
‘I see...thankfully I have other things to do besides sparring with a rebellious slave.’
She stared at him open-mouthed as he strode through the door.
‘I will never have feelings for that man,’ she whispered to Coll. Coll gave her a look which seemed to say that if she was indifferent, why did she feel so alive in his presence?
No good ever came from antagonising a Northman. That fact had been drummed into her head ever since she could remember.
Swallow her pride. How difficult could it be? Liddy shuddered. Apologising would be easier
away from here.
* * *
Liddy discovered Sigurd standing beside the lake, looking out at the purple Paps of Jura. Coll went up to him and pawed at his trouser leg. Sigurd reached down and threw a stick into the water. Coll, the traitor, went bounding after it.
‘It is better to lance a boil than allow it to fester as my mother would say. I had no right to take my anger out on you,’ she said at his questioning glance. ‘I haven’t been a slave for long.’
He picked up the stick that Coll dropped at his feet. ‘You have a nose for trouble. You need someone to ensure you are kept safe. Someone needs to protect you.’
She stared at him, astonished. Justifying his behaviour by saying that he was protecting her! Swift anger filled her, but she forced it back down her throat.
‘You made me a slave to protect me?’ she asked in a deceptively quiet voice. Coll bristled beside her.
‘Someone had to. Your family singularly has failed thus far. He would have sold you, Liddy.’ He threw the stick again. It arched in the sky before landing in the water. ‘I know how the Gaels behave. My grandfather sold my mother.’
‘My father is different,’ she ground out and then closed her eyes. ‘At least I hope he is.’
Sigurd threw the stick again for Coll. It arced high before landing in the lake with a plop. ‘You’d volunteered to be a hostage. What is the difference?’
‘A hostage has the hope of freedom. A slave...’ Her throat tightened. ‘A slave has nothing. You expect me simply to accept this change of status without a murmur. To welcome it. What sort of world do you live in?’
The huge dog returned with the stick in his mouth. He shook the water all over her, before covering his eyes with his paws. She sighed inwardly. Why of all the men did Coll have to take a liking to this one?
Liddy crossed her arms over her aching stomach. It hurt that once again she had made a mistake about someone. When would she ever learn? When Brandon had courted her, she’d been certain that he’d seen past her birthmark to the real person. Then on their wedding night, after he’d hurt her with his rough lovemaking, he revealed that he’d only been interested in her dowry and the land she brought.
‘Why? You owe me that much. A hostage would have accomplished the same thing.’ She held up her hand, stopping his words. ‘And don’t go on about rescuing me from my father. You don’t know him. He takes his duty to his people seriously.’
She hated how her voice wobbled on the word.
Sigurd threw the stick again.
‘As a slave, you belong to me. A hostage is at the whim of the jaarl,’ he said finally.
‘You are the jaarl here.’
He turned towards her. His face had settled into harsh planes. ‘Who knows what the future holds? Ketil needs to confirm it. Many will desire it now that Thorbin is gone.’
Liddy’s mouth went dry. They might yet face another Thorbin or worse? ‘What will make you secure?’
A bitter laugh escaped Sigurd. ‘Thorbin has hidden his tribute. He had promised Ketil gold and sent nothing. My late brother has been cleverer than I thought. It is not in his usual hiding places.’
Liddy looked out at Jura. The shifting sunlight had turned the paps a deep purple. ‘You won the fight.’
‘Ketil wanted Thorbin alive...for some reason. He could have returned.’
The stark words sank into Liddy’s conscience. Sigurd had exceeded his orders and Ketil was not the forgiving type. ‘And you killed him after the fight, rather than during it. Wil Ketil punish you?’
Sigurd’s brows drew together. ‘I had my reasons. Ketil will forgive me once he has the required gold. My plans will happen. He will confirm me as the jaarl.’
‘As long as you find the gold. Otherwise...’ Liddy wrapped her arms about her waist as she struggled to see the kindness in his eyes again. She wanted to see the man who had given her dog the dried meat not long ago. Instead, this stranger with hard eyes stood there, telling her that the horror she thought she’d saved the island from might not be ended. ‘You allowed my father to think that you were the jaarl. He’d never have sold me.’
‘You don’t know that and have no fear, the required tribute from your father’s estate will be paid to Ketil. I don’t cheat.’
‘But...’
‘I will find the gold. It is here. I have not come this far to lose everything.’ He put his hand on her arm. She hated that the touch made a curl of warmth grow in her belly. She wanted to lean into him. She wanted to experience his mouth against hers again.
‘If you do, you might have to sell me.’ Liddy swallowed hard. Things like that didn’t happen to her. Silently she listed again the reasons Brandon’s mistress had stated when she explained why Brandon would never return to Liddy’s bed after the first week of marriage, beginning with her birthmark and ending with her bony figure.
‘You worry too much about a future which may never happen.’
His mouth came down on hers and claimed it. The kiss was different from the one they’d shared earlier. This kiss was about ownership. And yet there was something else to it. It ignited a fire deep within her. Her back arched towards him and she encountered the hard planes of his chest.
Her mind reeled. And then she froze. Where was her anger? And her promise not to warm his bed? She was behaving worse than Agnes on her husband’s estate, who only had to have a man look at her with a hint of passion and she opened her legs. Pathetic.
She struggled against the bonds of his arms.
He let her go. Instantly. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. ‘A willing woman, Liddy. I am willing to wait for a little while. You were the one who asked for the kiss.’
Her fingers explored her tingling lips. ‘How?’
‘Your eyes asked for it.’
She crossed her arms over her suddenly tender breasts. ‘Next time wait until my mouth does.’
He gave a soft laugh as his gaze homed in on them. ‘Your voice or your lips?’
Her lips ached worse than ever and a warm curl started in her stomach. Brandon had never made her feel like this, not even when he was courting her. Her husband had deserted their bed before the first night was through. How could she hope to hold someone like Sigurd? And what would happen when he discovered about Keita and Gilbreath and how they died? It was best never to start or to have dreams.
‘My voice, of course,’ she answered and with as much dignity as she could muster inclined her head.
‘Good.’ His maddening smile returned. ‘You wish to make this interesting. I will wait until you break...until you beg.’
Her body protested that she had been willing, more than willing. ‘You will have to wait a long time, then.’
He gave a half-smile. ‘You might not believe it, but I actually want you for other things than warming my bed. The wait will do me good. But it will happen.’
‘What things?’ Liddy asked as relief flooded through. Of course, he had been teasing her.
‘I need someone I can trust to run my household, Liddy.’ He gestured towards the various buildings. ‘Thorbin may have been content to live like a pig, but I refuse to. Someone to tell me if anything unusual is found.’
Liddy struggled to breathe. There was a way to become free after all—one which would not involve bed sport.
‘If I am the one to find the gold, will you set me free?’
He tapped his fingers together and assessed her under lowered brows. Liddy shifted uncomfortably, aware that she might have gone too far. ‘Are you worried about your curse preventing you from finding it?’
‘My curse doesn’t work that way.’ There was little point in telling him that it worked against people she loved. She could never have feelings for a man like him. ‘You need someone to help you.’
She waited, certain that he must hea
r the thumping of her heart.
‘If you find it and bring it to me, I will free you.’ He lowered his brows. ‘I expect you to spend time keeping my house, not hunting for gold. And I expect loyalty. You belong to me until this happens.’
‘Loyalty should be earned, not bought.’
‘Indeed.’
She took a deep breath. ‘But I agree and I will be discreet. I would hardly want anyone else to discover the gold.’
His eyes danced. ‘Do we seal this bargain with a kiss?’
She shook her head before the temptation to taste his lips again filled her. She held out her hand. ‘A handshake will be the best.’
He tilted his head to one side. ‘I never took you for a coward.’
Liddy moistened her lips to stop them tingling. ‘I told you that wasn’t going to happen. I’m not interested.’
He raised a brow. ‘You are a very poor liar.’
‘It is the truth.’
‘Prove it. Seal our agreement with a kiss.’
Her mouth. If he kissed her again, he would know how much she longed to be in his bed and that would be a mistake. She needed to discover the gold before he discovered what a disappointment in bed she was. ‘You won’t get me that easily.’
He leant forward and brushed her over-sensitive mouth with his fingers. ‘Anticipation makes everything sweeter.’
Chapter Six
Sigurd picked through the used straw and hay that littered the stable floor the next morning. The stables were at least well-kept, unlike the hovel where he was now expected to reside. He had kept away from the chamber last night, unable to trust himself with Liddy. He’d worked by torchlight trying to discover where Thorbin had hidden the gold until he had become too tired and slept.
He wanted to keep his mind away from Liddy and the problem she posed. He had told the truth—he didn’t force women, but one taste of her lips had been nearly enough to send him over the edge.
He slammed his fist against the wall. Where had his famed control gone? He needed to be thinking of other things, not the curve of Liddy’s neck or the way she chewed her bottom lip. He wanted her, but he didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone. He had learned that lesson long ago. ‘Where have you put the gold, Brother? How far did your treachery extend?’
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