Her lips parted as she drew in a shaky breath. The tip of her pink tongue came out to moisten her bottom lip and the desire he’d only barely kept tamped down flared to life. He wanted to suck that moist bottom lip into his mouth and taste the sweet honey her tongue had left behind. He was lusting after his own wife. This was worse than the time he’d been fifteen and his older brother Gunnar had decided his punishment for not cleaning Gunnar’s boat properly should be to not have a woman for a month. He’d paid them all well to keep away from Vidar.
Only his wife should be his by rights. It was her own stubbornness keeping her away from him.
‘I’ll need to think about what you’ve said. It’s an interesting point that I hadn’t considered.’ Her gaze jumped to his and then down to his mouth before touching on his shoulders as she looked back to her meal. His misery was made even worse by the knowledge that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He knew that he couldn’t force the issue, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep pushing her.
‘Think about it. It’s good to see you more compliant this morning. Had I known spanking you would bring you to heel, I’d have done it on our wedding night.’
She gasped as she jerked her head up in outrage. Anger glittered in her eyes and her face mottled with rage. ‘How dare you?’
He couldn’t help the corner of his mouth from tipping upward. She was beautiful in her anger. ‘It’s true. And what’s more...you liked it.’
She drew her hand back with the intention of slapping him, but tightened it in a fist and dropped it in her lap as she thought better of it. ‘I should slap your arrogant face,’ she hissed.
‘Why? Because then I’d spank you again?’
She glared at him as he rose to his feet. She couldn’t deny what had happened between them last night, but neither could she admit to it. It didn’t matter. He’d make her admit it with a little time. Giving her a nod, he left to go to the sparring field.
* * *
Gwendolyn was so angry that she was shaking. The urge to chase after him nearly moved her to her feet, but what then? What would she say to him? That he was wrong? That he had no right to say those things? That he shouldn’t have used her own desire against her?
He had every right to say them, just as he’d had every right to punish her. He was her husband.
She dropped her face into her hands and took a deep breath to beat down the impotent rage building inside her. She’d come down here to attempt to work with him, because after last night...well, it was clear that things couldn’t continue as before. If they didn’t start to work together, she was afraid of the things he could do. The biggest one being that he could undermine her authority until he eventually made her men disrespect her. She had no choice but to figure out a way to work with him, even if she hated every moment of it.
As her rage gave way to resignation, Gwendolyn took a few moments to eat her meal. She thought of what Vidar had said about her importance to Alvey. She wanted to deny their truth, but she couldn’t. A small groan of frustration escaped her. Why couldn’t he be a fool? Why did he have to make such good arguments? If something happened to her in battle, she wasn’t entirely certain that what he’d predicted wouldn’t come to pass. If Jarl Eirik did attack her people...well, the Jarl did command an army of men. It was possible the Danes would win that battle. Even if her people won, there were certain to be casualties. She didn’t want that if her actions could result in a peaceful co-existence.
It gave her a new perspective on Vidar banning her from fighting. If only he had presented his argument to her in a clear and articulate manner before he’d banned her outright. Perhaps that’s one thing they could work on. She could show him how reasonable she could be when he presented her with logical arguments as opposed to commanding her with unreasonable edicts.
Finished with her meal, she pushed back from the table and worked herself past his now-vacant seat on the bench. She breathed in and his lingering scent filled her nostrils. The unique combination of leather and man caused excitement to flutter in her belly. She pressed a hand to her stomach to ward it off and continued towards the door as if it hadn’t happened. She still didn’t know how to come to terms with physically wanting him. It would have been so easy for her to give herself over to him. Thank goodness she’d had the presence of mind to resist. She had a sneaking suspicion that once she allowed him total possession of her body, it would be very hard for her to deny him anything.
Heat bloomed over her cheeks as she recalled exactly how good it had felt to have him touch her so intimately. But that was followed by shame. It wasn’t the pain of the spanking that had caused her to cry herself to sleep last night. It was the embarrassment of nearly submitting to him and it stung her all over again.
Stepping out into the low morning light, she paused as she took note of the activity in the yard. She half-expected the Danes to notice her immediately and smirk at her. They’d consider it something of a victory that their leader had bested her. But, as she stood there waiting for their judgement and censure, no one seemed to pay her very much attention. Some of them were making their way to the sparring field where she could already hear the shouts and metal clashing as the men practised.
She wanted to head in that direction, but there were more pressing matters this morning. Most of the villagers and farmers had stayed to feast while she and her husband had been away chasing rebels. Now that the rebels had moved on, many of them needed to return home.
Annis called to her and Gwendolyn turned to see that groups of people were beginning to assemble their wagons near the gates. ‘I’m glad you decided to stay until the danger had passed,’ Gwendolyn said as she hugged her sister. Bending, she scooped up her little nephew and got a smile from him as she tossed him in the air.
‘And I’m glad to see that you’ve come back without injury.’ Annis raised a brow as she picked up a satchel and tossed it to Eadward in the wagon.
‘Of course I’m without injury.’ Gwendolyn rolled her eyes at the dramatics and cuddled the toddler, rubbing her cheek against his soft, curly hair. ‘Everyone is behaving as if I’ve never ridden out chasing criminals before.’
Annis looked suitably chastened as she picked up the last satchel for her husband to load. ‘I suppose you’re right. I only worry now, because I suppose there was never a chance of you...you know.’ Annis’ glance down to Gwendolyn’s belly told her exactly what her sister meant. She was concerned that Gwendolyn was carrying a child.
‘There is still not a chance of that.’
Annis’ mouth gaped open and she lowered her voice. ‘What do you mean?’
The toddler tugged the end of Gwendolyn’s braid and promptly put it in his mouth. Gwendolyn smiled as she tugged it free and gently pinched the tip of his nose. He giggled and brushed her hand away as he checked to make sure it was intact. ‘I think you know what that means, dear sister.’ Then she leaned in closer so that Eadward wouldn’t overhear. ‘Women who don’t lie with men don’t have babies.’ The memory of his touch on her most private place last night pushed its way into her mind and she blushed.
Annis looked as if she’d just been scandalised. It was a look Gwendolyn was coming to expect from her sister. ‘He’s your husband, Gwendolyn. You must...do your duty. Alvey needs a child.’
Gwendolyn frowned. She’d much preferred it when she’d been a warrior and Alvey’s protector. She wasn’t enjoying being Alvey’s Lady. It came with too many duties that included too many restrictions. Cedric should still be here and his wife should be the Lady. ‘I don’t know that to be true. Alvey has done fine without a child. If it needs a child, then here...how about little Eadward?’ She held up the child and he squirmed to get down, so she sat him on his feet. He immediately ran to the wagon and tried to climb in to reach his father who was busy settling their supplies.
Annis sighed as if she were growing impa
tient and put her arm around Gwendolyn’s shoulders. ‘That’s not possible now. You’ve married and Alvey has a new Lord. Do you suppose Jarl Eirik would allow himself to lose Alvey’s influence if something were to happen to you or your husband?’
And they were back to her death again. Everyone seemed unduly preoccupied with her death as if it were imminent. ‘Do not, Annis.’
But the plea didn’t stop her and she kept on talking as if Gwendolyn hadn’t interrupted her. ‘A child belonging to both you and Vidar would help to unite us. It would lessen the chance of a rebellion should our people resist Jarl Eirik. It would make everyone safer. It’s your duty now to see to the safety of everyone here.’
Gwendolyn shook her head. She didn’t want to listen to this right now. Perhaps Annis spoke the truth, but she couldn’t listen to it, not so soon after listening to Vidar’s lecture on how important her safety had become. Because of this marriage, she wasn’t allowed to ride out past the gates without an armed squadron to protect her, apparently, but she also had to commit herself to sharing her husband’s bed every night while giving him control of her body.
She ignored the way the thought made the kindling deep in her belly flare to life. She absolutely would not be coming to terms with the curiosity of what it would be like to give up control of herself to Vidar.
‘I cannot do that now, Annis. I cannot simply become someone else because of a wedding ceremony.’ She couldn’t lose sight of who she was. Giving in to Vidar would do exactly that, because he demanded so much of who she was to change. As long as she resisted, then she knew that she would still be the person she knew.
Much to her surprise, Annis gave her a sad smile and squeezed her shoulders. ‘It will take some time, but you’ll figure out how to become Lady and keep a part of yourself.’
Gwendolyn wasn’t so certain of that fact. Nevertheless, she pulled herself together enough to say goodbye to her sister’s family, then she made certain to visit each family who was leaving that day, thanking them for making the trip and participating in the feast.
She was very shocked when she looked over as the procession began filing through the gates to see Vidar standing there to speak to each family who passed through. Pulling something out of a drawstring bag, he pressed the tiny trinket into the hand of the man he was speaking with. She frowned and starting walking over to him. Before she reached him, he’d passed out more to two different men who appeared to be the heads of their households.
It was only when she was nearly upon him that she saw him withdraw a small coin that shimmered in the sunlight. He gave her a glance of acknowledgement, but his attention was focused on the people as they left. She stood stiffly beside him, nodding to them all as they passed. When the last of them had filed out of the gate, Gwendolyn said, ‘If you’re trying to bribe them with coin, I’m not sure how effective you’ll be. They may take your coin and still revolt.’
He grinned and she fell in beside him as he walked towards the sparring field. ‘Then I suppose I must keep you safe at all cost.’ He drew up short, as if he’d just thought of something. ‘It strikes me that there is another way to keep your Saxons’ allegiance.’
He’d turned to look at her, and she found herself shying away from the intensity of his gaze. After giving her desire for him away, she found that she had trouble looking him in the eye. ‘A child?’ she asked, Annis’s words still fresh in her mind.
‘Aye, so you’ve considered it?’
‘The idea has been presented to me.’
He took in a breath through his nose as he looked down at her, but he didn’t say anything for a moment. Unwilling to look like a coward, she forced herself to hold his gaze. Finally, he took a step, closing the distance between them, but he didn’t touch her. He simply dipped his head and whispered against her hair, ‘It would be good between us. After last night, you know that to be true.’
He continued on to the sparring field, leaving her to draw in a shaky breath. Every fire that she’d thought she’d managed to put out flared to life within her. She’d been right. He knew exactly the effect he had on her and he wouldn’t let up until he’d won.
‘Tomorrow morning,’ he called back, turning slightly to look at her as he walked backwards for a bit. For a moment, she had the strange idea that perhaps he was telling her the time of her future submission to him. ‘My warriors have expressed an interest in learning more about your crossbow. Meet with the warriors on the sparring field then so that you can demonstrate your archery skills. I’m thinking of having bows made for some of the warriors. They’ll need an able teacher.’
He turned and kept walking, leaving her utterly confused, yet hopeful. For the very first time since she’d shot her arrow into that ridiculous masthead on his ship, she thought that perhaps they could find a way to work together.
Chapter Twelve
The woman knew her way around a crossbow. Vidar hadn’t doubted that fact after she’d put an arrow in the eye of the lion carved into his ship, but seeing her today drove the point home. She’d spent the past half-hour putting an arrow into every target that his men found for her. It had become something of a spectacle with all of the warriors stopping to watch her put on her performance. Originally, he’d planned to have her train the few who had expressed an interest in learning, but as soon as her feat had gained an audience, he’d been reluctant to put the men back to work. He wanted them to watch her and admire her skill. More and more he was coming to think of her as his and he liked that she was competent in her ability.
He smiled as she let fly her last arrow. It zipped through the air and landed with a thud in the wooden target across the field nearly a hundred paces away. The men were suitably impressed with a few even cheering her success. Pride for her swelled within him. He was finding that he was quite happy with her as his wife. With her ability to hunt down rebels, retrieve stolen sheep and handle a crossbow. He was captivated by her. He knew full-grown warriors who wouldn’t be that astute if left to their own devices. He simply wasn’t certain how that all fit with the role of the person who was supposed to be his wife.
As she held the crossbow out to demonstrate how it moved to one of his men, Vidar allowed his gaze to wander down to her bottom. She’d gone to bed last night before he’d gone upstairs to their chamber. Though he hadn’t expected her to give in to him so soon, he’d been disappointed to find her sleeping none the less.
She was finished with her demonstration, so some of the men began to go back to their previous occupations. Vidar had planned to take a group out to the countryside. It was time to start thinking of establishing farms for some of them since their days of constant battle were behind them. They’d need women to marry and help run the farms, and Vidar planned to go back to Eirik’s home in late summer to bring some back with him. In the meantime, he’d have to talk to Gwendolyn about some of the unattached women here. It would be good to start intermarrying to lessen the divisiveness.
As he approached her, one of his men grabbed the crossbow from her and sighted it, aiming it at a sack that had been stuffed with hay and set up as a target. It wasn’t loaded with an arrow. Gwendolyn glared at the man. ‘That’s my crossbow. I’ve brought others for you to use.’
A group of around ten of his men had stayed back to learn how the crossbow worked, with the goal of being skilled enough to use it for protection. The man, Ivar, gave her a glance, but didn’t make a move to return it to her. He just held it up and sighted it again.
Vidar forced down the anger he felt rising to the surface. ‘The crossbow is good craftsmanship?’ he asked, stepping up to the group and keeping his voice calm.
Ivar gave him a grin and nodded. ‘Aye, very good.’ He ran his fingers over the wood engraving. It was a carving of some sort of beast’s head. Vidar had never noticed that carving before and thought that he should ask her about it later. He wondered if it had signific
ance to her. There were so many things about her that he didn’t know. ‘Not like those.’ Ivar pointed at the crossbows set on the barrels lined up next to them. They were plain wood and metal with no ornamentation.
‘Those are the ones the boys practise with.’ Gwendolyn frowned, clearly still unhappy that Ivar held her beloved crossbow.
Vidar nodded. ‘That makes sense. We don’t allow the boys to practise with full swords either. They have to earn their swords.’ She glanced at him, shock widening her eyes, and he wondered if she’d really not expected him to come to her defence. It bothered him that she saw him as an adversary. But with the spanking, how could she not? He really was out of his depth dealing with a wife.
‘I’m no boy,’ Ivar said. ‘I’ll not play with a boy’s weapon.’
‘You’re no marksman yet,’ Gwendolyn said. ‘You’ll not get your crossbow until you’ve earned it.’ She pointed to the wooden mark she’d hit at a hundred paces. ‘You hit that five times in a row and we’ll say that you’re ready.’
Vidar smiled, proud that she was strong enough that she hadn’t allowed Ivar to cower her. Ivar was an excellent warrior, but he was strong willed and it took a deft hand to keep him in line. She caught Vidar’s eye and the hint of a blush stained her cheeks. He very much liked that he made her react that way.
Instead of replying, Ivar grabbed an arrow from the wooden box and notched it in her crossbow. Pulling it up, he sighted it and let the arrow fly. It flew wildly off course, coming to rest in the dirt several yards from its intended target. The men all laughed. Ivar scowled and Gwendolyn gave him a smile as she held out her hand for the crossbow. He shoved it towards her.
‘With practice you’ll earn your own crossbow, with whatever carving you want,’ she assured him.
Ivar grunted and made to walk off, but Vidar grabbed his arm. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I won’t be taught by a woman.’
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