Magnar (The Wolves of Clan Sutherland Book 1)

by Mary Morgan

  To oppose his king would only result in another stepping forth to take on the burden of the marriage. Could it be a union in name only? His mind agreed, but his body betrayed him. And if in name only, the marriage would be left open for opposition for any others to challenge Magnar.

  Pushing away from the ledge, he turned toward the king. “Then I shall take Elspeth to be my wife. Before we are wed, I must share my lineage.” He paused and returned his gaze once more to the sun-drenched land. “Have you considered the lass might not be agreeable to your proposition?”

  The door to the chamber opened, and Magnar glanced over his shoulder.

  The king glared back at him from the entrance. “Convince her, Magnar. She will either marry you, or I can return her to Halvard Baardsen.”

  ****

  Pacing back and forth in front of an oak tree, Magnar tried to settle the battle of emotions within him. Marriage was something he had avoided for years, and his mother would agree with him. Although she’d wanted him to take a wife, she would not be pleased the intended bride was not from where he was born.

  Why hadn’t he taken a wife from one of the Orkneyjar Isles? He scrubbed a hand vigorously over his face. “Because they would bore me.”

  And Elspeth stirs the blood like nae other.

  Magnar stilled his movement. Her floral scent drifted past him as he heard her footsteps approaching.

  “Who is bored, Magnar?” asked Elspeth, coming alongside him.

  “Does it matter?” he responded taking in her appearance. Lush curves that had enticed and lured the lustful man within. Her full rosy lips tempted him beyond reason. Would the fiery red-haired lass be a temptress in bed or a timid mouse? He shook his head to rid himself of her naked image, straddling his cock.

  Turning away from her, Magnar went to the edge of the stream.

  “What troubles you?” She moved to his side, staring outward. “The king stated you had wanted to discuss an important matter—one that concerns Erik.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “King William received a missive this morning from Halvard Baardsen. He has requested his future wife be returned to Castle Steinn.”

  Elspeth gasped, but made no comment.

  Magnar kept his focus on the soothing water. “We are uncertain how he came upon the knowledge you are here. His account was Thomas drew his blade on him in a drunken rage, and Halvard defended himself. By ancient Gunn law—”

  “Bastard,” hissed Elspeth. “How dare he accuse my brother of such a vile act!”

  Glancing sideways at her, he arched a brow. “Continue.”

  “My brother realized too late the monster he had invited to Castle Steinn.” Wiping a shaky hand over her forehead, she added, “An argument broke out after my brother refused to side against King William. He renounced the entire agreement in the hall that evening. I witnessed the anger and fear in my brother’s eyes. When I rose from the table and started to make my way to leave, Thomas met me at the doors. He told me to find Erik and one of the guards and flee from Steinn. It all happened quickly. One moment he was whispering his demand and the next, a blade was thrust through his back. The hall erupted into chaos, and I ran out of there.”

  “Halvard claims to have witnesses to the contrary.”

  “He lies!” she spat out in defense. “He’s as low as a snake with venom.” She slashed the air with her hand. “He most likely used threats, or worse.” Elspeth trembled, and she wrapped her arms around her body. “Those are good people we left behind. Now they are suffering.”

  Moved by her sorrow, Magnar drew her to him. When she didn’t stiffen or object, he placed his arms around her. “We can thwart their plan with another,” he uttered softly, her scent filling him.

  Elspeth lifted her head as a long tear trickled down her cheek. “Then there is hope?”

  “Aye. You shall marry me. The king desires this union.”

  Her mouth dropped open as she gaped at him like a forlorn fish. Quickly snapping it shut, she struggled to be free from his hold. “Nae!”

  Magnar released her, and she stumbled back. She sees you as a loathsome heathen. Ignoring her denial, he continued, “With this marriage, we shall return to Steinn as a united front with King William’s blessing. The elite guard will accompany us—”

  She shook her head. “’Tis not happening.”

  “—along with some of the king’s guards.” He paused and added, “Once there, Halvard will acknowledge the marriage and the new chieftain. Then I will request his departure. If not, I’ll challenge the man in the lists.”

  Elspeth snorted and folded her arms over her full breasts. “’Tis not your right.”

  “To which? Marriage or slaying Baardsen?”

  “Both. I shall return to the abbey, and when Erik is of age, he can seek his vengeance for the death of his father,” she answered in a rush.

  Magnar stormed to her side, glaring down at her. “You would allow him to carry this burden until the deed was done? The lad is only seven. It will harden him to a shell of violence, and he cannot rule without counsel.”

  She grimaced from his words but kept her chin held high. “I won’t let him be hardened.”

  “You ken nothing of the responsibility,” he snapped. Turning from her censure, Magnar went back to the stream. “I understand I am not a husband you favor. Nevertheless, as marriage to me, we can undo this pact your brother made.”

  She stomped the ground with her foot. “I will not be forced to marry a…a heathen!”

  He gritted his teeth—her words sparked outrage from his inner beast. Glancing over his shoulder, he offered, “Then which would you prefer? Halvard or me? Make your choice, Elspeth. Did you not consider I do not favor this union either?”

  Confusion marred her features. She fisted her hands on her hips and glanced upward. “Did you argue against this marriage with King William?”

  “Aye.”

  “Yet he convinced you?”

  “Aye.”

  When she returned her gaze to him again, resolve and a bit of stubbornness filled them. “Why, Magnar?”

  “The king will permit me to continue with my duties with the elite guard, including an important task which requires my attention after our marriage.”

  Chewing on her bottom lip, she nodded slowly. “Then you will be absent most months from Steinn?”

  “Most assuredly, and when I am there, Erik will be my focus.”

  Her face softened as she moved slowly toward Magnar. “Therefore this marriage is in name only for Erik’s protection, aye?”

  Annoyed with the direction of his thoughts, he looked away. How Magnar longed to tell the lie on the tip of his tongue. The word ached to be released. He turned and stared into her jeweled eyes in an attempt to offer her any hope of what she wanted to hear.

  When she placed a hand on his arm, she whispered, “Tell me honestly, Magnar.”

  He swallowed and removed her hand from his arm. Placing it securely over his heart, he stated, “Our marriage will be binding in all ways, Elspeth—in name and body. You may worship your God and I shall do so with mine, but ken this, you will be mine completely.”

  The battle of emotions splayed across her face. She stepped closer and pulled her hand free from his. “Then you understand this, Magnar MacAlpin, you can have my body on my terms. The time of my choosing. I am tired of having men telling me what to do. Will you accept my terms?”

  By the hounds! Her words sparked his lust further. Magnar concluded he did not want a simpering wife by his side. For the first time, he yearned to have one challenging him—in mind and body.

  Grasping her around the waist, he ignored her gasp and cupped her chin. Her eyes widened as he slowly lowered his head. “Agreed.” He breathed the word against her cheek.

  When he drew back, Magnar was the one perplexed. Lust shimmered back at him from those emerald eyes. Her full lips parted, and he required no invitation.

  Instantly, he took fiery possession of her mou
th, devouring its softness. The kiss shattered his senses and tossed him into a stormy sea of pleasure. Her lips were warm and moist, and when she moaned, Magnar thrust his tongue into the velvet warmth of her mouth. Unable to be gentle, his kiss became demanding—burning with need. Especially when Elspeth wrapped her arms around his neck, urging him onward.

  Skimming his hand upward from her waist, he found her breast and squeezed the taut pebble through her gown. The roar of desire to strip the material from her body and feast on her honeyed rose-scented skin sent him spiraling. She whimpered as he trailed a path with his tongue from the soft spot below her ear to along her neck. He pressed his lips to her throat and felt the wild beat of her pulse.

  “Magnar, Magnar.”

  His lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time. The tempest of desire swirled around them.

  Finally, a small whisper in the back of his mind clawed at him to stop this madness, or he’d strip her gown from her body and take her maidenhood here on the ground.

  Withdrawing from her luscious mouth, he stared at her. Her gaze—both hungry and confused—tore him apart. Never had a woman stirred such a passion so violently in him. Her lips were already swollen from his kisses.

  Her chest rose and fell with each breath she took. “Remember our deal, Magnar.” Turning quickly, she darted away through the trees.

  In that quiet moment as the air cooled around him, Magnar had left out one declaration to share with Elspeth—the wolf within him. And the beast gnashed his teeth.

  The thought soured inside his gut.

  “You will never come to my bed willingly, Elspeth.”

  Chapter Nine

  Elspeth paced back and forth in front of the arched window. Her nerves were a jumbled mess ever since her conversation with Magnar. Two long days had passed, and she refused to take any of her meals in the hall. She sent her regrets on the first day to the king with a note stating she required time alone. And he responded with his own missive stating he would give her this time to prepare for the marriage—in three days’ time.

  Several of the women came earlier in the morning with gowns for her to look over. The thought of choosing one for her marriage to the MacAlpin only added to her distressing senses. In the end she relented and chose a gown in a deep shade of blue.

  She hated to be forced into this situation. Even so, she had no one to blame but herself. All because she refused to take any of the other men her brother had presented to her.

  Elspeth wiped a hand over her brow. Guilt continued to torment her. “Why was I so stubborn, Thomas? You should have asserted your power and forced me to marry.” She snorted, realizing her brother could never make her do anything. “How I miss you, my brother.”

  The flames from the fire snapped, and she jumped, only adding more to her misery.

  However, it was more than the approaching marriage to Magnar MacAlpin that bothered her. Brushing her fingers across her lips, she sighed, recalling his kisses. They left her with a burning ache for something more. A dizzy spark of pleasure she was unable to fathom.

  She should not want him. Should not crave his touch. Though it was difficult to deny, Elspeth desired Magnar.

  “You confound me,” she murmured, placing a cool hand on her cheek.

  Startled by the soft knocking on her door, Elspeth turned suddenly. “Enter.”

  Erik pushed open the door and ran inside. Reaching for her hand, he asked, “Are you still feeling unwell?”

  Guilt plagued Elspeth as she knelt down in front of the lad. “Forgive me for being absent, even from you. I had much to think upon.” Giving him a reassuring smile, she added, “I have some news to share with you.”

  His face lit up. “I ken the good news!”

  “Do you?”

  His head bobbed up and down. “You are to marry the MacAlpin tomorrow.”

  Elspeth’s smiled faded. This was not how she wanted her nephew to hear the news. Was Magnar taking pride by rejoicing in this union with everyone who would listen? Before she would pass judgment on the man, she asked, “Who gave you the account?”

  “King William.”

  Her shoulders sagged in relief. “Of course.” It was the king’s plan anyway.

  His brow furrowed. “Are you not pleased?”

  Elspeth released his hand and stood. Stunned is the word I would have chosen. She glanced over her shoulder at the fading sunlight. “I do not ken the man.”

  Erik pulled on her gown. “He is a great leader amongst his men.”

  She huffed out a breath and returned her gaze to the lad. Uncertainty warred with her other emotions. Being a great leader does not make for a good husband. Curious, she asked, “Have you spoken with Magnar?”

  The boy swallowed. “Only once when the king wished to tell me the news in his chamber.”

  “He was there?”

  “Aye. Man to man, Magnar spoke with me.”

  Elspeth’s mouth twitched in humor. “And what did he say?”

  Erik pointed to his chest. “He made an oath to protect you and me. Always. Nae harm would ever befall you after you married him.”

  “’Tis a vow easily broken if he is working for the king and not at Steinn,” she uttered with dismay.

  “He told me that in his absence, one elite guard would always watch over us until I can wield a strong sword-arm.” Erik withdrew his small dirk in a show of display. “Magnar is going to train me. He is powerful.”

  “Most likely many already fear him. He towers over most men. The man is as tall and wide as some of the trees,” she stated.

  Erik ignored her as he continued to wield his sword about. This was no longer about her needs. Her nephew required guidance and leadership, which she was unable to provide. With the king’s blessing, Magnar and the other guards would offer a stable foundation and future for Erik, and the people under Gunn protection.

  Elspeth went and retrieved her cloak. She was tired of hiding in her chambers. Determined to be brave in the face of any storm, she crossed the room and stood at the entrance. “One of my maids stated you are taking lessons from one of the guards called Gunnar? I heard he is teaching you the lessons of our Lord. Have you finished for today?”

  Erik halted his actions and cast his gaze at the floor.

  “By your silence I can presume this to mean you have fled your studies?”

  “He makes me state his prayers in Latin,” complained Erik. “And he made me take Sir Mouse out of the chamber.”

  She would not be dismayed by his sullen behavior. “And this poses a problem? Even King William speaks Latin, and I believe those are the king’s prayers, as well. As for Sir Mouse, I deem ’tis time for him to find a new home.”

  Raising his head slowly, he frowned in obvious thought. “Aye. I did hear the king give the blessing before we ate. Do you think the king will like me more if I say his prayers?”

  Elspeth held out her hand as her heart softened. “You already have gained his favor.”

  Tucking his dirk back into the sheath on the belt at his side, he rushed to take her hand. “Do you think Father would mind if I learned the new prayers?”

  She brushed a lock of hair out of his eye. Smiling, she answered, “A good leader should always learn as much as he can. What harm would it be to learn the prayers our king recites? And if you find your tongue refuses to move, then utter the ones your father taught you in Latin.”

  Giving her a broad smile, he nodded. “Aye, aye.”

  “Good. You shall strive to learn your lessons from Gunnar, and I’ll resolve to embrace this marriage to Magnar.”

  As they departed her chambers, Erik said, “I ken Magnar to be a good man.”

  Her nephew had an uncommon ability to sense others’ inner self. Curiosity spurred her to ask, “What makes you sense the man to be good?”

  He shrugged. “’Tis his eyes. They shine like a wolf. And wolves are loyal.”

  Elspeth regretted even asking the lad the question. His belief in the old religion had h
im spouting questionable tales. Holding back any further questions, she continued along the corridor. Yet a troubling thought raced through her mind. Did not her grandmother speak of men who roamed the land on the Orkneyjar Isles? She offered the same account—men with eyes that mirrored the soul of a wolf. They worshipped the old Gods and guarded the land.

  I nae longer believe in the old tales, Grandmother. Forgive me.

  ****

  “A wedding day should be one of joy and in a church,” whispered Elspeth, doing her best to compose herself.

  She fingered the blue stone around her neck to steady the knots within her. The pendant was the only item she retrieved when she fetched her cloak on that fateful night of her brother’s death. A notable gift from her grandmother on her twentieth birthday. The old woman made one dying request—to wear the jewel on her wedding day. She had forgotten about the jewel, having stuffed the pendant deep within the pocket of her cloak. Never did she consider marriage when she took it with her.

  “You are a vision of rare beauty,” uttered the familiar male voice behind her.

  Elspeth’s skin tingled with awareness and a longing for his touch. The stone grew warm within her palm, and she dropped her hand. She cast Magnar a sideways glance. “Are you not supposed to be waiting in the great hall?”

  His smile came slowly. “Aye, but here we both are.”

  Elspeth fought the smile forming on her own mouth. The man was splendid in his ivory tunic and dark blue trews. She did not even mind that he was wearing his torc. He made her insides flip in the most wondrous ways. “Should not the king be present?”

  Magnar shifted his focus to the closed doors and then quickly returned his attention to her. “He awaits us.” His good humor transformed to a more somber tone. “I must speak with you, first.”

  “By the hounds, Magnar!” Rorik came charging down the stairs. “Get yourself into the hall. You can speak with Lady Elspeth after the formal vows.”

  Magnar gave the man a scowl. “’Tis important.” As he made to take hold of her arm, he stilled his movements. He lifted his hand as if to touch her pendant. His eyes darkened, and he blinked several times.

  Elspeth took a step back in wariness. “We can speak later, Magnar.”