She was amazed at the swell of affection that overcame her as he lay above her. He was her husband now and somehow that seemed all right. If he was this tender with her at night, she had hope that the daytime would be tolerable. She ran a loving palm down his back, which he must have taken as a sign that he was too heavy. He shifted and pulled out of her, leaving her aching and still somewhat needy for him.
Rolling on to his back with an arm thrown over his face, she found herself reluctant to let him go, which was silly. The deed was done. They were well and truly man and wife now. There was no need for anything more. She wasted no time in grabbing the blanket and pulling it over herself, both relieved and sad to have the initial act over and done with. Having not expected to enjoy it nearly as much as she had, she did not quite know how to face him now that the haze of pleasure was fading.
After taking a moment to regain his breath, he lowered the arm that had covered his face and looked at her, unconcerned with his nakedness. His manhood lay against him, still half-rigid.
‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Not at all.’ Try as she might, she could not prevent a blush from staining her cheeks.
It was only then that he smiled and turned on his side, raising up on an elbow to look down at her. ‘You are my wife now, in all ways.’
‘And you are my husband.’ She still was not quite certain what that meant to her or for their future, but the tenderness in his gaze as he smiled down at her was more than she had ever hoped for.
‘Do you wish to sleep?’ he asked, stroking the ridge of her cheek.
The simple touch stoked the simmering flames of desire in her belly to vibrant life. It was nearly overwhelming how she could want to experience that again with him so soon. That, as much as her own uncertainty at how things would be between them now, made her nod. Dropping his arm, he pulled her into his side. She stiffened in surprise.
‘Will you not go back to your chamber?’ she asked. Grim had always left her soon afterwards.
‘No, I sleep with you.’
The way he said it was almost as if he meant that he would sleep with her for ever, not just tonight. She did not want to ask, because whichever way he answered would leave her confused. Fatigue was already making her eyelids heavy and the pleasure he had given her made her limbs cumbersome and weighted. There had been too much change for one day. Instead of arguing, she allowed herself to relax into him and enjoy the weight of his arm across her body. He smelled the way he had that night in the tavern, of the outdoors and a deep, rich spice that was his alone. Turning her face towards him, she placed her nose very near the hollow of his neck where she could breathe him in.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to face Jarl Eirik. After the Jarl left she would consider how to tell Rurik about Maerr. Tonight, she would bask in the simple pleasure of sleeping near this man who by a strange twist of fate had become her husband.
* * *
Rurik could not sleep. Too much had happened in the past day to allow him a peaceful rest. And with Jarl Eirik expected to arrive tomorrow, there was even more in store for them. But that was not why he could not take his eyes from the woman slumbering at his side. In her sleep she had turned to him and now her head rested pillowed on his shoulder, while he gently twisted a length of her auburn hair around his finger. He took in her sleep-softened features, greedy to savour them before the single remaining candle burnt itself out.
She was beautiful, but he’d had beautiful women before. She was courageous, but he had known many courageous women. No matter how he studied her features, he could not understand exactly what it was about her that drew him in. Or why joining with her had felt as if he had given her a piece of himself that would belong to her for ever. It must have been the words he had spoken when he’d been inside her. He had bound them together, saying the only vows that mattered to him as he took her as his wife and gave himself to her as her husband.
The immediate closeness with her was both welcomed and unsettling. It seemed only right that he would feel this with his wife, but it was, nonetheless, unexpected. Drawing a length of her hair to his nose, he breathed in the soft and sweet scent of her. The heavy mass fell through his fingers to lie on her breast where the blanket had pulled down. Her pink nipple peeked out at him through the auburn strands.
He smiled and stroked it with a fingertip, watching it draw up as if eager for more of his touch. His shaft swelled immediately, ready for more of her, but she needed her rest. And if he was being honest with himself, a very real part of him was afraid of what might happen if he allowed himself to have her too often. What if every time they came together he gave her another piece of himself? What if soon she had all of him?
What if it was already too late to worry about such things?
He wanted a true marriage, but the truth was that he didn’t know if he was ready for that closeness. Only now, after glimpsing how good things could be with her, was he coming to appreciate the vulnerability required for what he wanted. He’d not had much experience of leaving himself defenceless. Life had always been about strength and fortification for him.
Pulling the blanket up over them both, he hugged her against him and closed his eyes, willing sleep to claim him. Tomorrow would be the first test of their marriage and he planned to meet it with a clear head.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rurik would be proud. Sandulf Sigurdsson surveyed the mean chamber where the assassin had attempted to hide like a rat run to ground. The stench of the overturned sweet wine vied with stale sweat and the reek of death, getting into his lungs. Sandulf breathed shallowly through his mouth, keeping the roiling in his stomach down.
The memory of his first battle and its aftermath swamped him—his distress had amused his father. After he’d scrubbed Rurik’s boots clean, his half-brother had given him invaluable advice on how to control his wayward stomach.
Sandulf plucked the golden-arrow pendant which his mother had once worn from the corpse’s fist. The dead man had tried to bargain with it, pleading for mercy. Sandulf had given it—a clean death, far more than the worm deserved.
His next target lay far to the north and west. Glannoventa in the Kingdom of Northumbria and the woman he had marked. Two dead, two to die before he embraced his brothers. He carefully closed the door with a click and strode towards the port.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The insistent pounding on the door woke them long before either would have risen on their own. In the cocoon of their bed, Rurik had found the best sleep of his life with Annis cuddled next to him. He had woken several times, but only long enough to pull her against him and hurtle headlong into sleep once more. He meant to do that again, especially when she curled her fingers against his neck and let out a soft breath, but the pounding would not stop.
He opened his eyes to faint morning light coming in through the small cracks in the shutters. Covering her ear, he held her face cradled to his shoulder as he called, ‘What is it?’
The reply was muffled, but the name Jarl Eirik set him on alert. Sliding out from under her, he grabbed the discarded tunic and slung it on, heedless of the fact that he was half-hard with wanting her again. By the gods, he must have passed the entire night in that state. Opening the door a crack, he found Alder scowling at him.
‘You had better have a damned good reason for waking us.’
‘Jarl Eirik has been sighted. He will arrive soon,’ said Alder.
‘How soon?’ Despite the fact that seeing to Jarl Eirik was important, Rurik wanted to see to his wife more. He had anticipated at least a morning in bed with her. He was starting to resent the lack of time they had been allowed alone together.
‘Within two hours.’
He had not yet met the warriors at any length, but he had no problem coming up with orders for them. ‘Gather the warriors. We will not meet them with weapons drawn, but they need
to be ready.’
Alder nodded and turned to leave, but Rurik’s voice stayed him. ‘Send food. The lady and I will take our meal in our chamber before leaving.’
‘As you wish, my lord.’ The peculiar tone Alder gave the words was unmistakable. Rurik knew that it would be an uphill battle to gain the respect of the men who had so recently taken him captive, but it was a fight he was prepared to win.
Closing the door, he turned to find his wife staring at him from the bed, the coverlet pulled up loosely to her chest. She was dishevelled and sleepy and infinitely attractive. She looked well tumbled and a certain part of his body noticed.
‘What did he say?’ she asked, her eyes wide with concern.
He relayed the brief conversation all the while stalking towards her and calculating how fast he could have her again before the world would intervene. If she was as responsive as she had been last night, it would be easily possible.
‘I ordered our meal to be brought here, so we needn’t rush to the hall…yet.’ As he sat on the bed, he brushed the hair back from her shoulder and replaced it with a kiss.
‘Good,’ she said, disappointing him by not acknowledging his kiss. ‘We must eat fast so that we can discuss strategy with Cedric and Wilfrid.’
When she would have risen to dress, he grabbed her hand and tugged her down to his lap. She let out a surprised gasp and braced herself on his shoulders.
‘Must we rush?’ he asked.
‘Rurik.’ She was smiling, but the concern had not left her eyes.
He placed a kiss on her neck, working his way up to her lips as he spoke. ‘Last night was not enough time with you. I need you again.’
‘But it is daytime.’
‘My need for you does not know time, nor does it care.’
She giggled at that and took his face between her hands. He loved that things were easy between them again. ‘But Jarl Eirik is coming. We must prepare ourselves to face him. I cannot do this with you while having a lump in my stomach.’
‘Why do you have a lump in your stomach? Are you afraid of him?’
Shaking her head, she said, ‘I cannot explain it. I am not afraid of him. I know that he would not hurt me, but I confess to being afraid of what he might do with you.’ Her eyes dipped and he gently tipped her chin upwards so that she would meet his gaze. ‘What might happen to us.’
Understanding dawned and he relented. He would not have her again this morning, but he would have her before the night was over. ‘We are married now. No man can come between us, not even the Jarl himself. You are mine and I am yours.’ A sense of breathlessness followed that statement. No one had ever belonged to him before. It pleased him greatly that she was the one who did.
One of her hands fell to rest above his heartbeat. He stilled at the implication of the innocent touch. ‘Last night was not what I thought it would be.’ Her voice was soft and when her gaze met his again, it held. ‘I believe that we might be able to have what you want. A true marriage. I am only afraid that we won’t get the chance.’
Tenderness made his chest feel tight. Closing his arms around her, he held her against him and spoke against her temple. ‘You are my wife, Annis. Jarl Eirik will not change that.’
She took a hesitant breath before pulling back enough to meet his gaze. ‘What did you say last night…during…?’ Her glance drifted to the bed behind him.
He couldn’t stop the smile that curved his lips as he closed the slight distance and kissed her. She was always so certain of herself, but in this they were both in new territory. Keeping his voice low, he explained, ‘That I take you as my wife, making us one in body and spirit. I pledged my protection to you even at the cost of my life. I meant every word of it. You are mine and I am yours and nothing that happens today will change that.’
She stared back at him, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. A knock on the door signalled that their breakfast had arrived, effectively ending the moment.
‘Tonight, then,’ he said.
Regaining herself, Annis nodded and climbed off his lap.
* * *
Nearly two hours later, Annis stood next to her husband in the hall as they waited for Jarl Eirik to walk through the open doors. The thunder of a small army of hooves had rumbled through their peaceful home only moments ago as he and his men had filed through the gates, filling their small courtyard with unease and tension. While everyone knew that he had not arrived with death and destruction at his heels, a small army of Danes was never an easy thing to accept.
As strange as she might have found it days ago, she was glad to have Rurik at her side. His quiet strength was a source of reassurance that she needed more than she had known. While shouldering the bulk of responsibility for Glannoventa over the years had been a burden she had gladly borne, she was coming to believe that sharing it with him might not be as dreadful as she had feared. Their marriage was still very new, but so far he seemed willing to shoulder it with her rather than take it over completely.
The doors of their home opened, the heavy scrape of the wood echoing down the corridor. Rurik’s strong hand found the small of her back in silent assurance. From the corner of her eye, she saw his jaw work as he clenched his teeth. Whether he was worried about the confrontation to come or simply steadying himself for it, she could not say. There was much about him that she did not know, but she found more and more that she was looking forward to finding it all out.
Her heart stopped when a man came through the doorway. Jarl Eirik walked like someone determined to get to his destination, his long powerful legs eating up the distance. A handful of men followed him into the hall, but she knew that there were at least a score more waiting in the courtyard, and possibly triple that waiting in the lands and forest surrounding Mulcasterhas. She held her shoulders rigid as he came closer. His tunic was weathered and lightly soiled from days in the saddle, and his blond hair was left to fall around his shoulders, looking more unkempt than she had ever seen him. Though she conceded that she had never seen him arrive with such haste.
With the eyes of a woman, and not the girl she had still been in many ways the last time she had seen the Jarl, she could admit that he was quite attractive. At only a few years over thirty winters, he was still virile and commanding, exuding confidence and authority. His eyes gave her a quick glance, but they settled on Rurik as if identifying a threat and sizing up an enemy. For his part, Rurik had donned the weapons he had arrived with, not that he would need them. Her stomach roiled, but she did not allow it to hinder her. She would not be cowed by the Jarl.
‘Good day, Uncle.’ She made certain that her voice was strong and even. ‘I hope your trip was uneventful.’
He seemed reluctant to take his eyes from Rurik, but he finally looked at her. ‘What is the meaning of this, Lady Annis? I have been told that you are wed to a Norseman. I presume this to be him?’
She had hoped that bit of information would be left for her to reveal. It had probably been too much to hope for. ‘Uncle, I would like to present Rurik from the Kingdom of Maerr, my husband. We were wed last night.’
‘Maerr?’ His brows drew together. ‘By the gods, you were meant to marry a Dane!’
Her heart pounded against her ribcage and she glanced at the handful of men fanned out behind him. They were all younger than the Jarl, warriors in their prime. She had no doubt that the man he intended her to wed was among them, but she did not care. ‘I always maintained that I would only wed the man of my choosing. And I have chosen Rurik.’
‘That was not your choice to make, unfortunately.’ He shook his head. ‘It is not valid. He was not approved by me or your King.’
‘It is valid.’ Rurik spoke for the first time, impressing her with the volume and vehemence of his tone. ‘Vows were exchanged and it was consummated. There are witnesses if you care to confirm it for yourself
.’ His hand briefly left her back to indicate Cedric whom she had forgotten was standing a few paces behind them. Several warriors waited around the periphery of the chamber, but it had been decided that to keep things calm it would be best not to meet the Jarl with an army at their back.
‘You allowed this to happen?’ the Jarl asked Cedric, his eyes accusing.
‘There was no King to consider when they were wed. However, even if there had been, the wedding will stand,’ Cedric answered as he walked the few steps necessary to stand on her other side.
‘That does not answer my question.’
Cedric took in a weary breath. ‘You know that Wilfrid would rather die than see her wed to a Dane. He has pledged you his loyalty, but he refuses to give you his daughter. This cannot come as such a shock to you.’
Jarl Eirik’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. ‘Then why is he not here to tell me that himself?’
‘Wilfrid is ill,’ offered Annis.
A vein in the Jarl’s temple throbbed as he stared from her to Cedric, as if wondering how much of the truth they were telling him. ‘Take me to him.’
Annis had known that it would come to this, but the knowing did not make the actual facing of it any easier. He would see how ill Wilfrid truly was and demand an explanation for why he had not been told. It could not be helped, however, so she gave a nod and led the way to Wilfrid’s chamber with Rurik at her side and Cedric falling in line behind them.
There was no need to knock on the door, because Wilfrid had been prepared for the meeting. He sat at his table, staring at the door. Though his colour was still not very good and he sagged a bit, obviously tired, Irwin had dressed him in his finery. Pain squeezed her heart as she noticed the tunic looked far too big for him. How much longer would he be with them?
Harlequin Historical May 2020--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 17
