My Lord Viking

by Ferguson, Jo Ann

  “Nils, about London...I must tell you,” she said quietly, unable to be dishonest with him a moment longer and let him hope for something that had become unlikely, “that I asked Minnie, and she cannot go to London at the week’s end with us.”

  Nils’s arm clenched beneath her fingertips, but his voice remained tranquil. “If Minnie is unable to go after Tuthill’s gathering, maybe your brother—”

  “No, Martin will not be able to go, either.” She blinked back tears. She did not want to hurt Nils like this, but she could not risk Minnie’s baby, either.

  “Have you spoken to him of this?”

  She shook her head. “I do not need to. I know what his answer will be.”

  “You seemed so certain Minnie would be interested in paying calls on her friends.”

  “I thought she would be, but she cannot go now.”

  “Did she give you a good reason why not?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze evenly. “I cannot explain further. I promised.”

  His brow furrowed as he stood. “You promised what?”

  “To say nothing of why Minnie cannot go.”

  “You are talking in circles.”

  Linnea reached out to take his hand. “I know it sounds that way, but I must ask you to trust me yet again. Let me talk to Mama and Papa and—”

  He swore viciously in English, then with words she could not understand.

  “Nils, it is not a frivolous reason that keeps Minnie from being able to travel with us.” She reached for his hands again, but he locked them behind his back as he strode away along the cliff. She jumped down, running after him. “Why are you angry at me? I have done the best I can.”

  Nils fought his need to go back to Linnea and accept what he knew was her heartfelt apology. He could not. Because of some silly vow she had given her sister-in-law, she was preventing him—again—from satisfying the blood-oath he had given his chieftain. “I have wasted weeks waiting for you to help me.”

  “Help you?” She caught up with him and grabbed his arm. Fury honed her voice and snapped in her eyes. “Nils Bjornsson, all I have done for the past month has been in an attempt to help you! I have made certain you had food and were tended to and learned what you needed to in order to survive here and—”

  Seizing her shoulders, he pulled her to him, his mouth covering hers. He was hungry for every bit of her. That hunger threatened to make him forget everything but her. He must not. But as he feasted on her beauty, he longed to loosen her silken hair and let it flow against him as he tasted her mouth’s sweetness until he was sated. Along her slender curves, outlined by the modest style of her lavender gown, his gaze wandered with the eagerness of a winter-weary man emerging to embrace the sun.

  The whisper of his name in her beguiling voice resonated in his heart. Her fingers steered his hungry lips back over hers, and he tightened his arms around her. His hands reacquainted themselves with her supple body as he sampled the dulcet textures of her face—her brows, her eyelids, her nose, her cheek—before finding her welcoming mouth again.

  When he raised his head to look down into her glazed eyes, he stroked her cheek. How often these eyes sought his in his dreams! His fingertips tingled as the rest of him reacted to the fantasy of her skin against his.

  “That is what would help me now, unnasta. Having you and finding my knife.”

  “And then what?” she demanded. “You will take the knife back to your time and your chieftain.”

  “If I can.” He smiled. “Come with me, unnasta.”

  “Back to the time of the Norrfoolk?”

  “Why not? I have seen your time. Come with me, and live with me in mine.”

  “As what? Your traell?”

  “You would not be my slave.”

  “Then what would I be? You know there is no place for me in your life in that time. Then we would be enemies.”

  His fingers curved along her face. “You can never be my enemy.”

  “And your allies? Will they accept me as one of them?”

  Pulling out of his arms, Linnea ran down the path. She could not endure seeing the pain on Nils’s face. As she reached the bottom, she realized she was in the cove on the far side of the rocks from where the others were sitting on the blanket beneath the trees. She whirled to return up the path and on to the other cove.

  Nils stood a half dozen paces behind her. He said nothing as he edged toward her like a hunter sneaking up on his quarry. When she smiled, his stern expression did not change. Her laugh had a nervous edge as she backed away from him. She could imagine him prowling these shores, sending fear into every heart.

  “Nils, what are you up to?” she asked with another uneasy laugh.

  He burst into a run toward her. She fled in the opposite direction. She could not outrun him. Dodging his fingers, she sped across the beach. She reached the boulders, then spun and raced away. He caught her. She yanked herself away. He jumped forward. With a shriek, she fell backward into the water. She started to rise, but his arms around her waist tugged her back into the waves.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she cried.

  “This is the way we had fun.”

  “In the fjord?”

  He splashed water at her. “Where the water is not much colder than this in the summer. This is refreshing. We should have taken a swim together before this, unnasta.” He slid his hand down along her drenched sleeve. “But without all these clothes.”

  “You are deranged,” she retorted, but quivered at the thought of touching his sleek body.

  “No, I wished only to show you that your customs are not so different from mine. You will find yourself at home in my time, if you will come with me.”

  Jumping to her feet, Linnea ran to shore. She shook water from her hands before wringing her hair out onto the small stones. She kicked off her shoes. Bending, she poured water out of them.

  “Are they ruined?” Nils asked.

  “I am afraid so.”

  “We always took our shoes off before we went into the water.” His voice was as serious as a judge’s exacting a sentence on a felon.

  “Did you really?”

  “Yes.” Kneeling in front of her, he said, “Leather does not do well in the water. That is why we always oiled our boots before we went to sea.”

  “I will remember that.”

  He cupped her chin as he brought her mouth toward his. “Remember nothing but this, unnasta.”

  Linnea turned her head before he could kiss her and persuade her that he was right. Her heart already was pleading with her to heed him. What did it matter when she lived as long as it was with him? No! It was not that simple! She belonged here. Now.

  With him...

  Standing, she picked up her soaked shoes and went to the boulders that divided the coves. She might flee him, but she could not escape her thoughts that trailed her. She wanted to be with Nils. She wanted to tell him that she loved him. Both were impossible when he would be gone as soon as they found that accursed knife.

  “Linnea!”

  She was amazed when the shout came in front of her rather than from behind. Looking into the next cove, she saw Randolph wildly waving to her. She waved back.

  “We have been so worried!” he called as he ran toward the rocks. “I went up to the top of the cliff and you were gone. I—”

  “Look out!” Linnea cried when Scamp ran in front of him.

  Nils roared with laughter beside her as Randolph did an odd double-step. Randolph’s arms windmilled. It was no use. He stumbled into a wave breaking onto the beach and fell.

  “Niles, that is not funny!” Linnea chided, scrambling down off the rocks at the best pace she could manage.

  “And what isn’t funny about it?”

  She rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh. He was right. Randolph’s tumble had been comical.

  Nils jumped down from the rocks as her brother came running. “Stay back, M
artin,” he shouted. “I am already wet. I’ll help him as soon as I...” He reached up, grasping Linnea at the waist.

  “You are asking for trouble,” she murmured as he slowly, so very slowly, set her on the sand. “Randolph is not going to like this one bit.”

  “I hope you are right.” He gave her a squeeze before walking out into the water and offering his hand. “Let me help you, Tuthill.”

  Randolph waved him aside as Scamp bounced through the water, splashing both of them again. “I can manage quite well by myself.”

  “Are you hurt?” Linnea asked as he wobbled while coming to his feet.

  “I am fine.” His tone suggested that his dignity had been bruised far more than any other part of him. He glanced at Nils who was wringing out his waterlogged coat. “You will ruin that by crunching it like that.”

  “I fear it will be ruined anyhow. It is wool.”

  Linnea smiled, hoping to shove aside the edge of tension between the two men. “I have often wondered why sheep don’t shrink when they are out in the rain.”

  Taking her arm, Randolph steered her away from Nils. Usually she would have protested his overbearing assumption that she would go with him, but just now she needed to put some distance between her and Nils.

  Randolph eyed her up and down and asked, “How did you get wet? Not cavorting with Barrington, I hope.”

  “I fell in the water, and he helped me, as he offered to help you.”

  “I do not like how much time my future wife is spending with another man. I trust this behavior will end immediately. It would be embarrassing to have word of this being bandied about when we announce our plans at the gathering Saturday.”

  She stopped in midstep and faced him. “I think it would be for the best if you and I did not announce any plans to wed on Saturday.”

  “But if we wait...”

  “I would not wish to keep you from finding the right bride, Randolph.”

  His mouth straightened. “I have found the right bride. Your father has agreed to this match. Your brother sees the good sense of it. Ask him, if you do not believe me.”

  “It is not that I disbelieve you, Randolph.”

  “I do not understand why you cannot see the good sense of a match between us.”

  “I see the good sense, but my heart doesn’t.”

  “What does that have to do with it?”

  Linnea stared at him as Nils’s questions rang through her head. Randolph was not even pretending that he had a tendre for her. It was simply that he wanted to be a part of the Sutherland family and the prestige they possessed throughout England.

  “Randolph,” she said coolly, “I think it would be better if we speak of this when we are not soaking wet.”

  “If—”

  “I do not want to speak of it now.” She crossed her arms in front of her and gave him the stubborn glower that he had aimed at her so often.

  He started to retort, but Minnie said, “Linnea was quite clear, Randolph.”

  Linnea turned to smile at her sister-in-law. She had not heard Minnie come up behind her. When she saw Minnie standing beside Nils, her smile faltered. She stared up into his eyes, wishing she could give him the answer he wanted. The answer she wanted, even though what he asked might be so utterly impossible that even discussing it was a waste of time.

  Minnie said something that Linnea did not catch as she went with her husband, following Randolph toward the two carriages that had brought them to the shore. Nils was silent.

  “I should...” Linnea was unsure what she should do, and lying was inconceivable when she was enticed by his eager gaze.

  “If easing your pity for Tuthill is more important to you than seeking a solution here with me,” Nils replied, “then go.”

  “Pity? It isn’t pity.”

  “Then what is it?” He cupped her elbows. “Do not lie and tell me it is affection that you feel for Tuthill. I heard what he said to you.”

  “No, it is not affection.”

  “Then what?”

  She looked to where Randolph was stepping into his open carriage. “It is guilt.”

  “Why?”

  “He believes I will willingly marry him. I let him think that I was falling in love with him, when I have come to see that I was falling in love with being in love. He has been courting me earnestly, but...”

  He smiled and folded her hands between his. “But you prefer to be in my arms.”

  “And that is wrong!”

  “I do not see why. You are not pledged to him.”

  “No.”

  “I hear indecision in your voice.”

  She drew her fingers out of his and clenched them so she could not grasp his again. “I was wrong to let Randolph think I was falling in love with him, so now I must find a way to put an end to his expectations that I will wed him.”

  “Just tell him.”

  “It isn’t that easy. My parents wish to have me settled.”

  “But they will never force you to wed a man you do not want to marry.”

  “No, they would not, but I have duties, too, Nils. You think foremost of your duties. Don’t discount mine.”

  Nils opened his mouth to answer, but the call of her name interrupted him. He watched as Linnea turned and walked to where Tuthill held out his hand to assist her into the carriage.

  Vows and obligations. Once they had guided his life. Once he had taken pride in taking on both. Once he had sought any opportunity to make them his.

  Now all he wanted was Linnea.

  “Hurry up!” Martin shouted.

  “Go ahead,” he called back. “I will walk and give my clothes a chance to dry.”

  If Martin yelled something to him, the breeze and the sound of the waves carried it away. Nils watched as the carriages were turned to make their way to where they could be driven to the house.

  “It is not as you thought it would be, is it?” growled a voice behind him. “Daari! Fool and traitor to your oath.”

  Nils turned, his hand reaching for the blade hidden beneath his coat. He drew his fingers away when he stared at the form materializing out of the brilliant sunlight. “Loki, I thought you had given up finding amusement with me.”

  “You speak boldly for a mortal.” For the first time, Nils realized the god was shorter than Linnea, for his head did not reach Nils’s shoulder. Loki walked around him as if appraising him from every side.

  Spinning to match the wizard’s steps so that his back was not to Loki, whom he could not trust, Nils said, “I see no reason not to speak the truth, for you shall discern it one way or the other.”

  “But a mortal should not speak to a god as if they are equals.”

  “I did not mean that.” Nils bowed his head, but kept his eyes focused on Loki. “You know I hold all the gods in the greatest respect.”

  Loki laughed. “You are wise to do so, and you are right. I no longer find you amusing.”

  “Then...” He was not sure why Loki was here. The god who delighted in twisting words until the truth was impossible to recognize would not have come here simply to bid him farewell. To say that might enrage Loki.

  “Then I must find someone else to amuse me. Maybe I will be amused by the woman who has amused you so much.”

  “No!”

  Loki’s smile vanished, his eyes becoming twin storms. “You dare to tell me what I cannot do?”

  “Linnea does not even believe in you.”

  “She will believe in me by the time this is over.” Loki released a wild laugh. “Believe in me and fear me.”

  Twenty-One

  As she walked along the twilight-dusted hallway, Linnea heard laughter from Papa’s favorite sitting room. He and Mama and Martin and Minnie must be playing cards tonight. She envied them their simple entertainments, because nothing seemed simple for her any longer.

  Randolph had called again this afternoon to ask her once more to reconsider announcing their betrothal on Saturday. She had demurred. She suspected he would
call tomorrow again and the day after and on Saturday. Every effort she had made to avoid hurting him had been for naught.

  Going down the stairs, she drew her crocheted shawl over her shoulders. She slipped out a side door. If she was seen, someone might send Olive after her.

  Or Nils.

  She needed to be alone, so she could think. Everything was a complete muddle. She could not blame any of this on Nils because she had been simply letting life sweep her toward this inevitable clash between Randolph’s plans and hers. She should have been honest with him right from the start.

  With Randolph or with Nils?

  Pulling the shawl more tightly about her, although the night was mild, she walked toward the water garden. She had not been there since Nils had come to the house during Dinah’s wedding.

  She went down the steps, taking care that she did not miss one in the thickening darkness. This place had been her haven as it had been Nils’s. Could she find that sanctuary again while she tried to sort through her thoughts?

  The sounds of the night creatures were loud among the flower bushes. When a wisp of night breeze rippled across the pool, the light of the rising moon danced to its silent song. A plop and a widening circle was all that remained of the wake of a frog slipping into the water.

  Linnea looked up at the pavilion. The shutters covered the windows, except for the ones that would have given Nils a view of the road and the house. She had known that he watched the comings and goings at Sutherland Park to make the hours pass more quickly and to learn more about life in this time. He had learned so much, but the one thing he needed to know still eluded him.

  He needed to find that knife. A knife with a dragon crawling from its haft down onto the blade. She had seen it. She knew she had. Why couldn’t she remember where?

  “Mayhap because you do not want to,” she whispered as she looked again at the pavilion. When she had first brought Nils here, she could not wait for the moment when he would leave Sutherland Park. Now she dreaded it, knowing he would take her heart with him.

  Sitting on the bench, Linnea clasped her hands in her lap and tried to clear her mind. She had promised to help him, so she must try. So much whirled through her brain, she could believe a storm had erupted within her head. She wondered when she last had sat alone like this to sort out her thoughts.