The Wolves of Brittany Collection: A Romance Bundle Books 1-3

by Victoria Vane

  Tingling commenced deep in her belly she studied the corded muscle of his forearm and the light dusting of hair that disappeared as her gaze tracked up his bulging bicep to his broad shoulders. The sheet was wrapped around one leg, leaving the other exposed all the way to his well-developed buttocks. The night before, she’d clutched those firm globes of muscle as he’d thrust into her. She suddenly felt a deep urge to feel him again.

  As if reading her mind, he rolled onto his side and pulled her against his body. His eyes never opened as he nuzzled her neck and mumbled an incomprehensible string of Norse into her ear. He reached a hand between her thighs and prodded her from behind. Her breath hitched. Was this yet another form of pleasure he’d spoken of? Thinking only of the child she desperately craved, Gwened allowed him to do as he pleased. To her delight, he pleased her as well.

  Hours later, when she once more opened her eyes… he was gone. Yet, the remnants of their lovemaking remained, the stickiness of his seed still clung to her inner thighs and his musk scented the linens. It was an earthy, pungent scent that stirred her insides.

  She wondered if his seed had taken root. Surely such a big and virile man would sire a strong child. The thought secretly thrilled her. Instinctively, she squeezed her legs together hoping to retain every drop he had spent.

  Chapter Twelve

  Careful not to wake her, Bjorn crept silently out of Gwened’s chamber after passing the entire night as well as a goodly part of the morn in the countess’ bed. His body was sated but his mind was clouded. He still loved Astrid but couldn’t deny his growing feelings for Gwened. Though he wrestled with guilt, he could not regret his actions. His failure to reconcile his emotions put him in a foul mood.

  He needed some distance from this place… from her… to clear his head. He took up a boar spear with the intention of hunting when his captain met him in the bailey.

  “I have been looking for you,” Lars said.

  “And now you have found me. What is it?” Bjorn growled.

  “An army approaches!”

  “How many?”

  “At least a hundred.”

  “Could it be Valdrik?” Bjorn asked.

  “I can’t be certain,” Lars answered. “They are still too far away.”

  “Then I will discover for myself,” Bjorn said. “Saddle my horse.”

  A few minutes later, Bjorn was galloping toward the advancing war party. It wasn’t long before he identified his brother. He spurred his horse onward.

  Valdrik followed suit.

  They met up with a joyful shout.

  “Bjorn!” Valdrik swung down from his saddle.

  Bjorn did the same and they came together in a bone-crushing embrace.

  “I am glad to see you looking so well, brother,” Bjorn said. With his duchess by his side, Valdrik appeared whole, hale, and happy.

  “I am well enough to take on any man, but mayhap not an army,” Valdrik replied.

  “You fear rebellion brewing?” Bjorn asked.

  “Ivar has already quashed one in the south, led by Count Ebles of Poitou, but Mateudoi of Poher may be seeking an alliance with Robert of Neustria.”

  “Why would you think so?” Bjorn asked.

  “Because my scouts inform me that the count is gone from Poher.”

  “Yet, the countess arrived here over a sennight ago.”

  “Gwened is here?” The duchess remarked with a look of surprise. “Why has she come?”

  “’Tis a good question indeed,” Bjorn said, his hackles rising with suspicion. Had he been right from the beginning to suspect her motives? Had she only come to distract him while Mateudoi negotiated with the Neustrians? Was seduction part of her plan all along?

  “I must go to her at once!” the duchess said. She turned to Valdrik with a swift kiss on the lips. “Pray join me anon, my love.”

  Bjorn witnessed the exchange with a mixture of envy and resentment. Their affection for one another was surely genuine. He’d had experienced such a thing once before and had secretly begun to hope that he might know it again. But it seemed Gwened had only used him.

  Valdrik’s arrival had burned away the haze that had muddled his mind. With emotions back in check, he was once more thinking clearly.

  “I need you to go to Poher before Mateudoi can organize any resistance against us.”

  “What of her?” Bjorn said, unable to utter the betrayer’s name.

  “The countess? Take her with you. She will be a stabilizing influence.”

  Bjorn snorted. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that! I doubt she can be trusted.”

  “Then I will depend upon you to manage her,” Valdrik said.

  Bjorn mumbled a curse. He resigned himself to do as his brother expected…but he didn’t like it. He was painfully aware of how well she had managed him.

  “And what of her husband, Mateudoi? What would you have me do with him?”

  “Mateudoi is weak and feeble,” Valdrik said. “He will be no trouble as long as he does not get aid from the Neustrians. You must ensure that does not happen.”

  “How?” Bjorn asked. “Would you have me kill him?”

  Valdrik cocked his brow. “I leave the matter for you to decide.”

  Gwened was happily spinning wool when Adèle entered the solar.

  “Adèle?” Gwened rose with a smile and extended her arms to her sister-in-law. “I am overjoyed to see you!”

  “And I, you!” Adèle replied, hugging her back. “I was surprised to hear you had come to Vannes.”

  “I came as soon as I heard about the invasion,” Gwened said. “You can imagine my distress when you were not here. Are you well, sister?”

  “I am indeed,” Adèle answered. “I assume you know what happened here?”

  “Aye,” Gwened replied grimly. “I never thought you would concede Brittany so easily!”

  “What choice did I have? Rudalt left me alone with no defenses!”

  “I am sorry for Brittany,” Gwened said.

  “I feel much as you do, but I cannot mourn the duke,” Adèle said. “I would never have wished this conquest of our lands, but all is not as dire as it seems. There is still much you do not know.”

  Though Adèle seemed to want to reassure her, Gwened was still dubious. “What happened in Quimper?”

  “Quimper has fallen,” Adèle answered with a sigh. “Count Gormaleon put up a fight but was killed in battle. Emma continued to rebel but was also subdued after a time. She has now come to an understanding with Valdrik’s brother, Ivar. They have agreed to rule Quimper together.”

  “Emma, too? I can hardly believe it!” Had the Viking men woven some kind of love spell over the Breton women? She strongly feared that she, too, had fallen under their Pagan enchantment.

  “Take heart, sister.” Adèle laid a hand on her arm. “It is truly not as bad as it seems. Valdrik has proven himself an honorable man “I believe he will make a far better duke than Rudalt.”

  Gwened was incredulous. “You are happy with this Viking? I thought he forced you into marriage.”

  “He did not exactly force me, but marriage to him was the better of two evils. I know this will be hard for you to understand but I have come to respect him… I have also come to love him.”

  “But it is so…so…sudden!” Gwened protested. Even as she protested, she was reminded of her own tender feelings for Bjorn.

  “What of you?” Adèle’s expression shifted to concern. “Have you been treated well in my absence?”

  Gwened fingered the stitching on her sleeve, wondering how much she dared to confide. “I have not been mistreated, but I long to go home.”

  “How is it that you came here alone? Where is Mateudoi?”

  “I don’t know,” Gwened confessed.

  “Then it is true that he is seeking an alliance with the Neustrians?”

  “I doubt it,” Gwened replied. “In all likelihood, he knows nothing of the invasion.”

  Adèle looked puzzled. “How can he no
t know of this?”

  “Because he never returned to Poher. I believe he went to Rome to seek an annulment. I don’t know if he ever intends to return.”

  “Perhaps he will stay in Rome,” Adèle said. “He always wanted to enter the church. You have had no word from him in all this time?”

  “None,” Gwened said.

  “Then the fate of Poher remains in your hands.”

  “Aye,” Gwened said.

  “You should agree to peace with Valdrik,” Adèle said. “He will deal fairly with you. You have my promise on it.”

  Gwened was still amazed at Adèle’s turnabout. “I still don’t understand how you can trust him. What makes you believe we are better off under these heathens than in an alliance with Neustria?”

  “Because Neustrian aid will only come at a price. In the end, they will reap our wealth and take our sons to be their soldiers. We will be Bretons no more. On the other hand, Valdrik and his brothers will not give up an inch of what they have taken. They intend to stay… and they will protect what they have claimed with their lives.”

  Gwened released a sad sigh. “Then we are well and truly conquered.”

  “That’s where you are wrong,” Adèle said. “As women, we have far more influence than you know.”

  “Why do you think this?” Gwened asked.

  Adèle laid a hand on her belly with a sly smile.

  Gwened stared in disbelief. “You cannot be saying that you are…”

  “With child?” Adèle finished. “I have every reason to believe I am.”

  “And it is his?”

  “Irrefutably,” Adèle answered. “And Valdrik’s child is the future ruler of all Brittany.”

  Once more, Gwened was tempted to confess her own secret, but held her tongue. Adèle and Valdrik were bound by marriage, but Bjorn had promised her nothing. What had happened between them could never happen again. She needed to go as far away from him as possible.

  “If I agree to cooperate, will Valdrik let me go home?”

  “Valdrik wants you to return to Poher, but he’s sending Bjorn with you.”

  “Bjorn is going to Poher?” The news filled her with both joy and dread. “For how long?”

  “He will stay indefinitely. Valdrik needs a man he can trust to maintain Poher’s defense.”

  Gwened’s thoughts kept her awake long into the night. Though she was reluctant to accept it, Adèle was right. The Neustrians were a longtime foe. In the end, any alliance with them would only result in the loss of Brittany’s sovereignty. Perhaps it would be better to be ruled by this band of benevolent Vikings than to be swallowed up by Neustria. She had no doubt that Bjorn would protect Poher, but who would protect her heart?

  Gwened and Bjorn rode out early the next morning, accompanied by half of Valdrik’s men. Gwened hated to enter her home at the head of an invading army, Valdrik insisted upon a show of strength. It would fall upon her shoulders alone to soften the appearance of hostility.

  Although they rode side by side, Bjorn was unusually stiff and silent. His behavior, after their shared night of passion, only hurt and confused her. The tension continued to grow with the passing miles.

  “What is wrong?” she asked.

  “I dislike being taken for a fool?” he replied in an unsettling tone.

  “I don’t understand you.”

  “You lied to me. You used me,” he said. “You betrayed my trust.”

  “Betrayed you? How can you say such a thing after…after…” She was all too aware of the men who followed. “I don’t know what you are talking about!”

  “I speak of your husband’s mysterious disappearance. Valdrik told me he is negotiating with Neustria.”

  “How could I know this?” she protested. “I didn’t lie to you. He told me he was going to petition the Pope about…about a personal matter.”

  His golden eyes slowly assessed her. “The timing of his disappearance and your arrival at Vannes is highly suspicious, Countess.”

  She hated that he’d reverted back to her title.

  “I didn’t lie to you. What I told you before is true,” she said. “I came to Vannes because I needed to know if Adèle was safe. I admit that I had also hoped to buy you off with tribute money. But if that plan failed, I needed to know the strength of your numbers in order to defend my home.”

  “Yet none of this explains your husband’s absence. I ask you again, Gwened, where is the Count of Poher? Be truthful with me and I will go easy on you.” His gaze narrowed dangerously. “But if you dare to deceive me again, you will know a heathen’s wrath.”

  “I did not deceive you! How many times must I say it?”

  His glower deepened. “You still didn’t answer my question. Where is your husband and what are his intentions?”

  Until now, Gwened had withheld the painful truth, but Bjorn already knew about her failed marriage. What point was there in holding back now? She shut her eyes on a sad sigh. “Mateudoi left me to seek an annulment of our marriage.”

  “An annulment? Why do you only tell me now? How can I know this isn’t another lie to take me off my guard?”

  “Is that what you think I did?”

  “Aye,” he responded with a harsh laugh. “And you succeeded all too well with your innocent seduction and dream-inducing love potions.”

  “Dream-inducing love potions?” It was her turn to laugh. “You think I controlled your dreams? Are you mad? I only gave you medicine for pain!”

  He said nothing more.

  A moment later, he was no longer riding beside her.

  Over the next two days, Bjorn pushed the pace to Poher, which made it easy to keep his distance from Gwened. He rode in front and put her in the middle of his men which made conversation impossible. In the evenings, when they set up camp, he posted sentries outside her tent. It seemed he was taking no chances.

  It was only in the last few miles of the journey that he even allowed her to join him at the front. They hadn’t spoken since the day they left Vannes. If he had his way, they wouldn’t ever speak again, but there was no avoiding her once they reached their destination. His new position in Poher would require her cooperation.

  They arrived at Poher to find the gates closed and archers poised on the ramparts.

  “Tell them to raise the portcullis,” Bjorn demanded.

  “They fear your army,” Gwened replied. “Can you blame them?”

  “Then go forth and tell them we are no threat,” Bjorn demanded.

  “Very well,” she replied stiffly. Urging her horse forward, Gwened addressed the gatekeeper of Poher. “These men come in peace. Open the gates.”

  “Milord commanded me otherwise, milady,” the gatekeeper replied.

  “Milord?” Gwened could barely contain her surprise. “Are you saying Mateudoi has returned?” What could this mean?

  “Aye, the count is here,” he replied.

  “Then go and tell him, ’tis me who desires entrance,” she commanded.

  Gwened returned to Bjorn. “Mateudoi is within. Please let me go alone to speak with him. He will not trust you.”

  “And what makes you think I trust you?” he replied in a tone as cold as the northern seas.

  “What has happened? You treat me as if we never…” She looked away.

  “As if we never fucked?” he finished in a mocking tone.

  His answer felt like a knife to her heart. “Is that how you think of it? Is that all it meant to you?”

  His full lips curled in contempt. “Why would you ever have thought otherwise?”

  Her gaze snapped upward in confusion and fury. She wanted nothing more than to slap the smirk from his handsome face. Was this even the same man with whom she had shared a bed? All of a sudden, he was a stranger. While she hadn’t mistaken their passion for love, she had at least believed they’d established trust and friendship. How could she have been so wrong?

  “Go,” he commanded. “Just know this Countess, if you do not return promptly to op
en the gate for me, I will not hesitate to set the castle ablaze.”

  Although the keep was a tower of stone, all of the other structures within the bailey were made of wood and thatch. It would take little to utterly destroy them.

  Gwened knew she had no choice but to do as Adèle had done in Vannes and take on the role of peacemaker. Even if Mateudoi chose to fight Poher lacked the men and resources to withstand a siege. She just hoped that Mateudoi could be convinced to believe her.

  “What have you done?” Mateudoi angrily demanded. “Our kingdom is invaded by Vikings and you abandon Poher?”

  Gwened responded with a furious laugh. “You abandoned me! You left with little explanation and sent no word when you would return!”

  “I was on my way to Rome when I learned about the Vikings,” he said. “I then abandoned my personal quest to instead request aid from the Marquis of Neustria.”

  “Why would you seek help from an enemy?” she asked.

  “Because we both have the same desire—to drive out these Norsemen,” Mateudoi replied.

  “Did the marquis agree to this alliance?” she asked.

  He nodded. “If we fight the Vikings, they will join us.”

  “But we cannot fight them!” Gwened said. “Rudalt is dead! Gormaelon of Cornouailles is dead! And we have too few men and no one to lead them!”

  He stared at her with a look of incomprehension. “You would just give up? You would sacrifice our land to these godless, murdering savages?”

  “To my knowledge, they have committed no murder,” Gwened replied. “They fought only those who resisted. If we do not resist, there will be neither bloodshed nor enslavement.”

  “How can you believe this?” Mateudoi asked.

  “Because I have seen it with my own eyes. I went to Vannes. I saw no violence there. Even while I was held hostage I was never mistreated.”

  “Do you care nothing about the Church?” he asked. “These heathens have desecrated our monasteries! It is an affront to God if we allow them to stay.”