Blind Redemption (Viking Romance) (Blind Series)

by Rand, Violetta

  The mule-headed girl didn’t budge. Aaron motioned with his head which way she should run. Finally, the lass fled. Once she disappeared, he sheathed his weapon, then knelt beside Erling. Breathing, but barely conscious. “Prepare to die.”

  Something heavy slammed into his back. A sharp pain ripped through his body as he fell over Erling. Aaron twisted in time to block a second strike from his attacker. He recovered, then climbed to his feet, delivering a debilitating blow with his axe. It left a deep gash down the center of his assailant’s chest. Erling moaned. Aaron whipped around. His need for blood increasing at an alarming rate.

  Although he suspected Erling was guilty of many crimes, kidnapping and murder to start with, he’d rather arrest him and deliver him to Oslo. His men had cleared the area. Justice must be done. As he weighed his options, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of a knife. Bless the gods for making the choice for him. Aaron sunk his axe into Erling’s shoulder, then yanked it out.

  Erling sank to his knees, covering the injury with his right hand. “Will you leave me to die?” His wound bled profusely.

  “Odin will decide.” Aaron grinned. Erling deserved to be carved into little pieces and fed to a pack of wild dogs.

  With Erling mortally wounded, Aaron could now focus on finding Amelia. When he finished here, he’d deal with that breeches-wearing shrew that wouldn’t get the hell out of his head. It would serve both women right if he left them here. But there were better ways to punish foolish females.

  After a short search, he found Amelia crouched behind a cabin with six other women.

  “Jarl McNally,” she greeted him without surprise, almost as if she’d expected his appearance.

  “Come,” He grabbed her arm. “Your mistress waits.”

  “Mine or yours?” She smiled.

  He didn’t appreciate her insinuation. Did the wench want to stay in this dirty sprawl of a place? He tightened his hold. “Save your words for later.”

  Kara stumbled out of the woods to find Aaron’s men with their horses. They offered her water and barley cakes. She accepted a water skin and choked down every ounce her belly could hold.

  “Where did you come from?” one of the guards questioned.

  She pointed, still breathless. “Aaron . . .” She drained the skin. “The jarl rescued me and told me to find you.”

  “Tayte Olavson.” The soldier bowed.

  “I’ve never been so happy to meet someone.” She wanted to kiss him. “I’m Kara Dalgaard, daughter of Jarl Erik the Bald.”

  Two conscripts snickered. She threw them a reproving look. Why were they whispering like gossipy women? By Odin, did Aaron reveal things he should have kept to himself? Although she wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him for rescuing her, as soon as she saw him again, she’d demand answers first. Ignoring their rudeness, she settled on the ground, happy to be off her feet. Sweat and dirt covered her body. And she smelled horrible. She swore she would never wear chainmail again. Every time she did, bad things happened. She grunted and squirmed, finally pulling the hauberk over her head and left shoulder, before her long hair got snagged in the metal loops.

  “Bloody, bloody hell.” She tugged again. “Ouch.”

  Someone approached from behind. She didn’t need to look to know who it was. After three more failed attempts to get her hair loose, she growled in frustration. One more try. With a final tug, she ripped several tufts of hair out. Aaron’s laugh made her look up.

  “I’ve heard it said on many occasions that we can be our own worst enemy.”

  As arrogant and proud as ever. “Will you laugh if I’m left with a patchwork of bald spots?”

  He tapped his chin as if he were seriously mulling the thought over in his head. “I would.” Then he rested his hands on her shoulders, making it even harder to think.

  “Are you going to help me?”

  He laughed, squatted beside her, then lifted the armor off. “I suspect this outweighs you.” He dropped it and pulled her into his arms. “What are you doing here, Kara?”

  She snuggled closer to him. “I don’t want to discuss anything right now.” She exhaled, feeling peaceful for the first time in weeks. Who should she praise? The gods? Jarl McNally? Fate?

  “Do my eyes deceive me?” he asked. “Are you happy I’m here?”

  Her head fell against his shoulder. “Please don’t tease me.” Not now. Not after everything she’d endured. Erling Solheim was the worst kind of man any woman could meet. Cruel and coldhearted—maimed beyond healing.

  Aaron pulled away just enough to look down at her. “I’m not playing. I need to know why I found you in that camp. Where are your brothers?”

  She’d felt uncomfortable around Aaron since the first time they met. Now, under his scrutiny, her insides squirmed with every sort of emotion she could possibly feel. Should she tell the whole truth? Disclose how she’d blindly set out to visit her kinswoman with the intention of finding him first? Or leave out that one detail?

  “I’m not angry, Kara.” He eyeballed her. “I’m eager to know what happened.”

  Weeks had gone by without contact with her siblings. She knew so little about what was going on in the world. “I cannot speak for my family,” she informed. “Unfortunately, I left in the middle of the night—without my brother’s approval.”

  He sighed, releasing her. “Stand.” He helped her to her feet.

  She looked down at her braies. “I’ll need a bath and time to wash my clothes.”

  “You’re avoiding my questions.”

  “Only because I know how wrong I’ve been. I endangered my own life and Amelia’s. My father will never forgive me. And you . . .” Heat rushed into her cheeks. She’d never be able to tell him the truth. “Thank you for finding me.”

  “You’re welcome.” He breathed out heavily. “Answer me.”

  “After my father left, I grew restless. I decided to visit my cousin in the northlands.”

  “Why the secrecy? Doesn’t your father allow you to travel? And why are you dressed as a lad again?”

  She couldn’t keep track of all his questions. “Yes.” She shrugged. “My sire affords me the freedom to visit my kinsmen.”

  “Like this?” He pointed at her breeches.

  “No,” she admitted. “I believed I’d be safer riding with my armor on.”

  “You’re lying to me and I don’t like it.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  He grinned. “Have you given me reason to trust you?” He regarded her carefully, circling her twice. “The last time you were dressed like this, I suffered greatly. Remember?”

  “I apologized for my part in that charade. Didn’t I?”

  “You did.”

  “And my father made amends. I know it will take time to recover from it. Can’t you forgive me yet?”

  “I’ll consider it. But until then, this will never do.”

  A chill rushed through her body. His teasing tone made her unsure of herself. “Is something wrong?” Her gaze followed him.

  “Indeed there is, lass. You can’t wear breeches while you’re under my protection.”

  She went stiff. Retaliation? Now? In the middle of the forest? In front of his men? Although she knew she’d been wrong on many levels, she wouldn’t allow him to embarrass her. And could he possibly speak any louder? His men were gawking. “Why?”

  “Are you prepared to hear the truth, Kara?” he started. “I’ll give you the courtesy of honesty. First, this unsightly gusset on the back of your breeches . . .” His intrusive fingers flicked their way up her arse. “It’s unacceptable. And there’s a small hole here. And this . . .” He twirled her around. “Look how grimy the leather is. Is this dried blood on your thigh?” He caressed her leg.

  For th
e love of Odin. He touched her so intimately. She tried to stifle the rising heat inside her body. “Wouldn’t it be more prudent to ask me to change, instead of pointing out every flaw in my leather?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But not nearly as amusing.”

  She frowned. All right, she deserved a little backlash for what she’d done to him. “I’m happy to provide some entertainment for your men, Jarl McNally, but I’m very tired and hungry. Can’t we start over?”

  He edged closer. “I don’t want to start over. I’m quite happy with the short history we share.” His smoldering eyes made her legs weak. “You’ll change into a gown because your father would disapprove of what you’re wearing.” He pressed his body against hers and whispered near her ear. “And so do I.”

  She gritted her teeth. The happy reunion had turned into something else. His chance to manage her life. “And what shall I wear?”

  Amelia stepped forward, leather bag in hand.

  “The maids living at the camp donated three dresses,” Aaron said. “Pick one and go behind those trees and change.”

  Her gaze traveled from Aaron to the thicket he’d indicated. “I’ll do as you ask.” Her maid gave her the satchel.

  “And while you’re clearing your mind,” Jarl McNally added. “Please consider telling me the real reason you left home.”

  Wasn’t he listening to anything she’d said before? “I told you already, I was on my way to visit my cousin in the northlands.”

  “You expect me to believe that you coincidently headed in the same direction I was going?”

  “Yes.” She bit her lower lip. Did he suspect she’d really set out hoping to find him? Her shoulders drooped. She wanted to go home. “Tell me, where am I going?”

  “With me.”

  A surge of excitement and fear overtook her. She’d prayed for time alone with him. Now that she had it, well, she wasn’t sure what to do.

  “Sir . . .” They both faced Tayte. “We should go, milord.”

  Aaron inspected the sky. “Aye, tis late,” he agreed. “Hurry.” He gave her a gentle push.

  Kara walked to the trees. What kind of pigheaded man thought about what a woman should wear in the middle of a fight?

  Only Aaron McNally.

  Aaron didn’t know whether he should be angry or not. Half the purpose for insisting she wear a gown was to protect her from his own wandering gaze. And his men’s.

  For several tense moments, she stared at him. He’d given easy terms. Change. It wasn’t open for negotiation. He’d spent enough time with her sire to know what kind of stubborn will she had—speaking without considering the consequences first and self-righteousness. Admirable traits in a jarl, but not his bloody daughter.

  Minutes later, she emerged, wearing a burgundy gown with a snug bodice. Christ. Now he’d be forced to stare at her breasts, instead of ogling her backside.

  She walked right up to him and dropped the bag at his feet. She was holding her braies and leather shirt. “Approve?”

  “You look lovely.”

  “Milady.” Amelia reached for her clothes.

  Kara pulled back. “I’ll keep these.”

  “If we had time,” Aaron said. “I’d burn them.”

  “Why? If you take my clothes away from me, I’ll have nothing left that reminds me of the freedom I’ve enjoyed most of my life.”

  “That’s the first wholly honest thing I’ve heard you say.”

  “Do you know what it’s like growing up in the shadow of brothers? No mother or sisters to love. I can do so much more wearing breeches. Ride astride, run, climb, and fight. I walk with confidence when I wear them. In gowns, no matter how pretty, I feel foolish. I’ve had little use for poise and grace—the traits my father suddenly claims he’s deprived me of.”

  “Maybe he finally came to his senses,” Aaron offered, but not unsympathetically.

  She wiped her face with her hand. “Besides, you try riding in a skirt and experience the unpleasantness of a cold, Norwegian draft between your legs.”

  They shared a quick, dry laugh.

  Vanity—she possessed a healthy portion just like him. “Let us make peace,” Aaron suggested. “Where are your horses?”

  She frowned. “Traded or maybe even eaten by Erling’s men.”

  They would have to ride double. Not that he didn’t welcome the chance to get close to her, but she’d protest. “Come.” Aaron walked to his horse, patted its neck, then mounted.

  A soldier helped Amelia get situated. As Aaron had anticipated, Kara bypassed him and approached Tayte. “Is this your beast?”

  Looking a bit confused, the captain nodded. “You cannot ride with me.”

  “Why?” she asked innocently.

  Aaron rode alongside them. “What are you doing, Kara?”

  “Waiting.”

  “I can see that.” He sighed. “Why?”

  “To ride this handsome animal.”

  “This very one?”

  She ground the tip of her boot in the dirt. “Yes.”

  He chuckled, spinning his horse around. Then, without warning, he leaned sideways in the saddle and scooped her up. He plopped her down in front of him. “Comfortable?”

  “Let me down.”

  “Easy.” He clamped an arm about her waist. “This is where you belong.”

  Her eyes were cold blue steel when she attempted to swing her right leg over the saddle. “At least I can get comfortable.”

  He blocked her leg. “No.”

  She made a growling noise. “My maid is riding astride.”

  He itched to give her a spanking because he knew she would fight him at every turn. Whether it involved her clothing or where she sat, Kara Dalgaard couldn’t behave. He cast a glance over his shoulder. “I see.” He shrugged noncommittally. “And what does this have to do with your present arrangement?”

  Her hands fisted at her sides.

  “Let me be clear,” he said, looking her directly in the eyes. “The next time you straddle something, it won’t be a bloody horse.”

  Chapter 10

  Sanctuary

  With everyone situated, Aaron signaled. If they hurried, they’d reach camp by nightfall. Hours later, they stopped to eat near a creek. Water skins were filled and they ate day-old loaves of bread. Aaron sent a guard with Amelia into the woods. But Kara wasn’t permitted to go with them. He’d escort her personally if she needed to relieve herself.

  “Why can’t I join them?”

  “I’ll walk with you,” he said.

  Her cheeks reddened.

  “If you wish to find a place—”

  “Please accept my apology for being uncooperative. I’m exhausted, Jarl McNally. Erling Solheim tortured me every day. Deprived me of food and water and forced me to fight until I . . .”

  His smile disappeared. “Did he hurt you?” He saw red.

  “What good will it do to discuss my misfortunes? I made a selfish choice when I left home without a proper escort. My unhappiness has nothing to do with you. Not really.”

  “Why did you really leave?”

  She looked away, staring at the trees. “To visit my cousin.”

  Odin’s beard, would she continue to lie even now? “Tell me the truth.”

  Her head snapped around. “Forget everything.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t do that, lass.” Any more than he could forget to breathe. These were the kind of moments he craved with her—intimacy—building trust.

  “Somewhere between our meeting, the cruel joke my family played on you, and hearing my father criticize me so unfairly, I guess I lost my mind. I’m accustomed to things being a certain way. I needed to get away.”

  “Things change, lass. For the bette
r if you let them.” His heart thundered. He’d comfort her if she asked. Too many questions were circulating in his head right now. “Tell me what Erling did to you. Why did he kidnap you? Is he an enemy of your family?” Visions filled his head of her being raped.

  “I’m still a maiden.”

  Relief coursed through him as he studied her face. She was telling the truth, thank the gods.

  “From what I could gather, milord, the man observed many of my training sessions in the woods. He claimed he admired me and made it a point to kidnap me so he could break my spirit. There is no connection to my family.”

  Aaron had never heard anything so laughable. Men sought women for two reasons, love or lust. “What else did he say?”

  “He often told me in great detail what he’d do to me if I tried to escape. I searched day and night for a way out. I couldn’t remember north from south, so deep in the forest. And Amelia—” She shook her head. “My obedience guaranteed her safety. I had no choice but to stay.”

  He rubbed his chin. What motivated Erling? Who was he and what did he want? “I admire your loyalty. From what I’ve seen, Amelia is more your friend than a servant.”

  “Aye,” she agreed. “The sister I’ve never had.”

  “Fortunate you found someone to love so much.”

  “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  If he answered her first question, a dozen more would follow. “We can discuss my history later,” he said. “The woods?”

  She nodded and started for the trees. He followed close, pleased the disagreement had ended. His arms burned to hold her again. He wanted her to feel the extent of his pain and suffering over her. Show her how much that kiss in Lagenheim meant to him. Nothing under Valhalla rivaled it. If he were in the habit of confessing, he’d admit the object of his deepest desire walked only a few feet in front of him.