Longing for Her Forbidden Viking

by Harper St. George

He didn’t realise that he wasn’t breathing until he was forced to take in a breath to ask, ‘Perhaps what?’ Had she perhaps worried about his fate as she worried for her sister?

  ‘That perhaps you had taken your vow earnestly and were injured while holding to it.’

  Her words coupled with the pained look in her eyes made him think that she had indeed worried over him. An uncomfortable pressure rose in his chest. He had taken the vow to heart. The entire ride north he had thought of nothing but bringing Elswyth back to her. It wouldn’t do to let her know how much it had meant to him. It wasn’t even something he wanted to contemplate himself. ‘I was true in my vow, Ellan, but it had nothing to do with my injury. That happened after we had saved her when the Scots retaliated.’

  She met his gaze briefly before looking back down at the bowl. ‘Oh.’

  Into the unwieldy silence that followed, he said, ‘So you’re relieved of your duty to me.’

  ‘It’s not a duty.’

  ‘But you said that you—’

  Shaking her head, she said, ‘I know what I said. It wasn’t only the vow that made me want to help you.’ Frustration made her brow furrow and her lips purse. ‘There is a connection between us. I feel that we could be friends and I wanted to help—’

  Pushing himself to sit up straighter, he said, ‘Ellan—’ but she held a hand up to stop him from talking.

  ‘Nay, please. I...I understand the reason you don’t want to m—’ Her mouth dropped open slightly as she only just managed to stop herself from mentioning the proposal she was probably regretting. ‘That is, I understand why you think I shouldn’t marry a fine warrior. I’m a farm girl whose family is suspected of nothing less than treachery. I understand that you think I have nothing to bring to a marriage. I do not plan to pursue the matter with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought that.’

  She frowned. ‘Good. Lord Vidar summoned me here. Since I was here and since we are friends and you needed me—help! You needed help—I thought I would...well, help.’

  He nodded in acceptance of her reason, but couldn’t decide if he was relieved or disappointed. They could not under any circumstances only be friends. The things he felt for her were too raw and uncertain. However, those feelings weren’t what he was thinking of right now. He couldn’t help but churn over what she had said about not being enough for a warrior. It wasn’t true and he hadn’t realised that’s how he had made her feel. He couldn’t let her go on thinking it.

  ‘It isn’t true, Ellan. I don’t think you shouldn’t marry a fine warrior.’ His breath pushed out of his lungs with a soft whooshing sound. He wasn’t entirely certain why he had pressed the issue. The answer seemed irrelevant in the face of her obvious shame.

  She forced a brave smile, her lips wavering as she struggled to hold it. ‘Perhaps I’ll find a farmer to wed or give in to the Saxon my father wants. I understand that it’s my place, though I’d rather join a nunnery than accept his choice.’

  Aevir shook his head, even though it caused a wave of pain to blind him for a moment. Her body tensed as if she might rise, so his hand shot out to press against her thigh. She gasped as she looked down where he touched her, but he couldn’t find the will to remove his hand. ‘You should marry who you want, farmer or warrior. You could marry very well if you choose. Aye, you are the child of a farmer, but you are not without value as a wife.’

  She shook her head. ‘Please, Aevir. This isn’t necessary.’

  Her thigh tensed under his hand and he forced himself to hold his upright posture though pain spread throughout his body. It worked and she settled back down. ‘Believe me, Ellan. If you believe nothing else I say to you, know this—I am the child of a slave.’

  She gasped in disbelief. ‘You’re a great commander. You came to Alvey with at least fifty warriors at your back.’ She shook her head as if she didn’t believe him. In that very moment, it became imperative that she understand they weren’t very different.

  ‘I was born a slave, though my master...my father freed me just before he died. He was a farmer with five strong sons who had no use for one more. He never acknowledged me, but everyone knew that he was my father. It didn’t matter what they knew, however. When he died I was made to leave my home with no coin or lands of my own.’

  She shook her head, as if she still didn’t believe his story to be true. ‘Then how...?’

  ‘I worked for a time as a labourer, moving from farm to farm to help with harvest. Sometimes I took work on a fishing boat.’

  That was how he’d met Sefa. He had taken work on her brother’s boat and had quickly worked his way up in the man’s esteem. It was on a trip to their home when he had met her. She had ignored him at first as she had helped her mother serve their meal. Even the youngest daughter of a farmer had been above his grasp, or so he had thought. He shook himself from the memory and Ellan’s rapt expression came into focus.

  ‘You see. It doesn’t matter that you’re a farmer’s daughter. Your worth is inside you no matter what station you are born into. I didn’t reject you because of who you are. I rejected you because I’m not free to marry you.’

  She was shaking her head as she spoke. ‘I still don’t understand. If what you say is true, how did you come to this?’ Her hand waved out at the room, but he knew she was asking how he’d come to be a warrior Jarl Vidar held in such high regard.

  ‘I worked. I took every job that was thrown at me no matter how terrible. I was born a slave, but I never felt that way inside.’ Something about her surprised expression made him grin. He liked that he was able to shock her. Even more, he hoped that his past could help inspire the woman he’d known in Alvey. ‘It’s obvious to me that you feel no more a simple farm girl than I felt a slave boy.’

  She nodded at that. ‘You’re right. I’ve never felt my place is here.’

  ‘Then don’t accept that this is your place. It’s not.’

  Her gaze darted down to the bowl of stew growing cold in her hand, but she looked back up at him again just as quickly. Their eyes met across the short distance. Something about the confidence blooming inside her reached into him, unfurling warmth in his belly. He clenched his fist against the need to touch her, though her sweet smile nearly undid that resolve.

  ‘Thank you, Aevir. I knew that I saved you for a reason.’

  He chuckled, but it made his head throb and pain lance through his thigh. Leaning back against the bedding as the last wave of pain left him drained, he felt the little strength he’d gathered start to leave his body. Fighting against the sudden urge to sleep, he forced himself to focus on her beautiful face. ‘Go get the Jarl. I plan to make it to the evening meal tonight so that we can—’

  ‘Hush.’ Shaking her head as she set the stew on the table, she leaned over him again. Her cool palm touched his forehead. ‘Still no fever, but you’re not going anywhere today.’ He opened his mouth to argue, but she had the audacity to cover his lips with her palm. ‘Go to sleep. I’ll watch over you.’

  It wasn’t a conscious decision to pacify her. He simply closed his eyes and they failed to open again. But he couldn’t deny how reassuring it was to have her there. Her scent followed him into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Later that evening a knock sounded on the door of the farmhouse. Startled, Elswyth looked up from the mattress and bedding she was arranging near the hearth. She and Rolfe slept there every night, while Ellan felt like an interloper on the other side of the hearth on her own mat. She tried to be conscious of the fact that her sister and Rolfe were newly wed and needed their privacy, but with Aevir needing almost constant care, the best she’d been able to manage was pulling the blanket closed as she tended to him in the alcove.

  ‘Ellan. It’s me, Henrik.’ The warrior’s muffled voice came through the door.

  ‘He probably wants to discus
s the guard duty Lord Vidar assigned,’ she said in response to Elswyth’s questioning brow. The lump settling in her stomach told her that he probably wanted to discuss something far more intimate than guard duty. She had relayed to her sister the gist of her meeting with Lord Vidar late last night, but had purposely neglected to share her suspicions about why Henrik had offered his services.

  ‘Good evening, Henrik.’ Snow had begun falling soon after Aevir had awoken earlier in the day and it appeared that it would last into the night. Henrik wore a heavy fur cloak liberally coated with wet puffs of snow. Good manners made her invite him inside when all she wanted to do was avoid a conversation about last night’s discussion. ‘Won’t you come inside?’

  He smiled his thanks and hurried in, stopping short when he saw Elswyth by the hearth. ‘Good evening.’

  Elswyth rose and greeted him, her gaze flicking back and forth between them as a slow smile spread across her face. ‘What brings you out on such a cold evening, Henrik?’

  ‘I’ve taken watch for the evening, but hoped to see to Aevir’s welfare before I start and report back to the Jarl. Rolfe mentioned that he awoke again earlier in the day?’ Rubbing his hands together, he held them out to the fire. His gaze moved over to the blanket shielding the alcove from view before settling on Elswyth again. He seemed to be avoiding looking at Ellan and the effort he took in that endeavour was almost comical.

  ‘He awoke as Rolfe mentioned,’ Ellan said. ‘He spoke and seemed to have all his senses about him. Thankfully his fever is gone and hasn’t made a reappearance.’

  ‘Good to hear. He’s strong. I’ve no doubt he’ll make a full recovery.’ Though he spoke to Ellan, he continued to look at her sister.

  Elswyth dipped her head to hide a smile, but not before Ellan saw it. Every thought he had was written on his face.

  ‘Perhaps I should go and report to Lord Vidar,’ Elswyth offered, taking a few steps towards the door.

  Ellan scowled at her sister’s unnecessarily helpful offer. ‘I’m certain that’s not necessary.’

  ‘It’s no bother.’ Elswyth waved away Ellan’s concern as she reached for a fur.

  ‘If anyone should go, it should be me. I spoke with Aevir. If Lord Vidar has questions, I’m the one who can answer them.’ Ellan knew her argument wasn’t getting her anywhere when the woman swung the fur around her shoulders.

  ‘It’s no bother at all.’ Elswyth gave her an overly sweet smile. ‘Besides, I have to retrieve my husband. He’s stayed too long after the evening meal drinking mead as it is.’

  Ellan wanted to beg her to stay and not leave her alone with Henrik, but there was no feasible way to do that without causing Henrik to wonder about her aversion to being alone with him. Instead, she stood mute with frustration and watched her sister close the door behind her. Henrik hadn’t moved all this time and when she finally found the fortitude to look at him, he was staring into the fire. ‘Could I...could I get you something? Ale? Water? We have a bit of stew left.’

  ‘Nay, thank you. The truth is that I came to speak with you, Ellan.’ His expression was earnest when he finally looked at her. ‘I know that we hardly know one another, but I think there is a friendship between us.’

  The corner of his lips twitched up in a smile that tugged at her heart. He was so sweetly sincere that she almost wished he could be the one she wanted. How simple life would be if the feelings she had for Aevir could be feelings for Henrik instead. ‘Aye, Henrik. You’ve been very kind and helpful to me. I do think of you as a friend.’

  ‘And you truly do not wish to honour the betrothal your father made?’

  She bristled at the word choice. ‘He never consulted me. The man he chose is a stranger to me. Any woman would feel the same.’

  He held up a hand as a sign for peace. ‘I only meant to ask if you are well and truly opposed to the union.’

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, ‘Aye.’

  ‘Last night you mentioned marrying a Dane instead... I wasn’t certain if you...if you had someone in mind.’

  Her gaze flicked to the alcove before she could stop it. There was only Aevir, but he had made it clear, again, earlier in the day that he wasn’t an option. ‘I have no agreement with anyone.’

  ‘That’s very good to hear, Ellan. I was afraid that some other man had found you before I did.’ A smile stretched across his face.

  Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. She had been right in discerning his interest.

  ‘As I said—’ he hurried forward ‘—I know it’s soon and we hardly know each other. But the truth is it looks like you may have no choice but to wed a Dane or Tolan.’ He walked towards her as he spoke and came to a stop entirely too close to her. She would have backed up if she hadn’t been so dumbfounded by his response. ‘Consider me, Ellan.’ When she didn’t respond, he leaned down a bit and touched her cheek with the back of his cool fingers.

  She swallowed, still having trouble finding her voice. Expressing his interest was one thing, but she had never expected his proposal.

  ‘I would treat you well. You have my vow on that. We already have a friendship, which is more than many marriages have at the start.’

  ‘But what of Tolan?’ she asked rather dumbly.

  He grinned, a glint of pride in his eye. ‘I have already made a considerable fortune with Aevir. I can offer Tolan more than your father would have given him and, if that doesn’t work, I’m not above using my fists to see that he understands me.’ His fingers were nothing but kind as he stroked her cheek in a barely there touch that showed some awareness of the fact that she hadn’t granted him permission to touch her. He seemed ready to pull them back the moment she told him to.

  ‘I—I am not certain that Lord Vidar would agree.’

  Her mind raced with a hundred different alternatives as panic threatened to claw its way up her chest. She could run away, except winter was upon them and she wouldn’t last a sennight on her own. She knew her limits. She could plead with Lady Gwendolyn to take her side, except even then diplomacy could force a match.

  Henrik was right on one point: They were friends and she was assured that he would treat her with respect. If taking a Dane as a husband were her only alternative, he was the best choice. It wasn’t something she could be certain of with all the Danes. Many of them seemed barely tame.

  The problem, no matter which way she tried to view it, came down to one thing: Aevir. She wanted him and no other man would do. The fact that he’d confessed to her his humble beginnings only made her admire him even more. But it wasn’t to be and Henrik was before her, offering.

  ‘We can talk with him,’ he said. ‘I am confident that he’ll see this is the better option.’

  When her mind finally calmed enough to focus on Henrik again, he had relayed the better part of his argument on why Lord Vidar would side with them. ‘But what of Desmond and Tolan himself?’ They were token arguments at this point to give her more time to think.

  ‘Coin can soothe broken pride. It may take a lot, but I think you’re worth it, Ellan.’

  ‘I’m uncertain what to say. Thank you for offering to do this. I appreciate your generosity and your friendship, Henrik, but I... I simply never expected...this.’ There had been interest from Henrik from the start. She wasn’t that experienced with men, but she knew when one was interested in her. Last night at the hall, he’d seemed curious about her fate and certainly she had expected that he had come to discuss the night further. That he might offer for her now had never crossed her mind.

  ‘I understand. You can think it over. I didn’t expect an answer tonight.’ He really did seem fine with the fact that she was too stunned to answer. His smile had gentled, fading from eager enthusiasm to an almost assured acceptance that she would eventually accept his offer.

  He was probably right to be so assured. When it came right d
own to it, what other choice could she make? Without even noticing, she had let her gaze stray again to the alcove where Aevir lay sleeping. It was Henrik’s voice that brought her attention back to him.

  ‘Do you favour him?’ He nodded towards the blanket that hid Aevir.

  Her lips parted, but she found that her voice had deserted her once more.

  Henrik’s tall body moved closer. Though he lacked the solid bulk of Aevir, he was probably just as tall so that he loomed over her by more than a head. ‘I understand if you do. Many women favour him.’ His voice had lowered to barely more than a whisper so that Aevir couldn’t hear if he happened to be awake. Surprise that he would speak so candidly made her jerk her head up to meet his gaze. He gave her a solemn nod and explained. ‘On our travels, he’s never lacked for women, but he’s never settled for only one. There was a Saxon girl in Jórvík who claimed to bear his child and even then she couldn’t keep Aevir’s attention.’

  Ellan was certain that she didn’t want to hear more, but it would have been easier to stop her own heartbeat than to keep herself from asking, ‘What happened? What did he do?’

  ‘Gave her coin to see to the babe’s care and sent her on her way.’

  If there was breath in her lungs, she might have gasped. As it was, she was struggling to suck in any air whatsoever. The blanket hung still and quiet as Aevir slept behind it. The image of a girl her own age would not leave her. She imagined the woman telling Aevir about their child. How would he react to an unwanted child? Had he been sad? Ambivalent? He himself had been unwanted and unacknowledged. Would he really condemn his own child to the same fate? Somehow it made it worse now that she knew he’d grown up under that stigma.

  What had he said as he’d given the woman coin and sent her away? Is that what would have happened to Ellan herself had she agreed to become his concubine?

  ‘Are you certain?’ That didn’t seem like the man she knew...or rather the man she wanted him to be. Her heart seemed to know him, but she had no idea who he really was. Something twisted in her gut and she felt a little sick.