She smiled. ‘I am certain Sigurd’s true wife was angry with him.’
Rurik laughed, a dry yet rich sound that made her want to make him do it again. ‘She was, and angry with my brother and me for existing.’
Her smile fled as she thought of him alone and facing her wrath. ‘What happened to you after your mother died?’
A moment of silence passed during which she dared not look at him, then he said, ‘Hilda despised our presence, but there was nothing she could do. Our father welcomed us into his home and we did our best to stay out of her way.’
She tried to imagine how it must have been to be a child whose very existence was seen as an affront to the woman in charge of his care. She could hardly do it. Her parents had been often busy and rarely tender, but Annis had always felt that she belonged with them. That she belonged in her family. She also tried to imagine what it would be like to have her husband bring home his bastard children and put them under her care. She could not. Sigurd must have been a fool.
‘Did you...?’ She thought perhaps she should not ask, but then there seemed to be no rules tonight. ‘Did you feel as if you did not belong?’
He grew silent, so much so that she could not hear his breath for a time. When she glanced at him, it was to see him staring up at the ceiling the same as her. ‘Yes,’ he finally said.
She wondered then if that was the true reason he had come all this way seeking to avenge the death of a father he had not been particularly close with. Perhaps he was hoping that it would make him belong at last. Why did that thought make her so sad when she hardly knew him at all?
A prickling heat spread over her skin and with it came clarity. She knew why the image that had come to her at dinner had sent a flutter of longing through her belly. It was not so much that belonging to him excited her, it was the idea of him belonging to her that did it. She admired him. Like her, he had harboured a deep need for vengeance to restore his family honour. He had nurtured that need for years and travelled far to see it accomplished.
Also like her, that need had been fuelled by so much more than the wish to restore honour. When the layers of that need were peeled back, the heart of it was so much more. The heart of her need had been an inability to accept the losses. Perhaps his was a hope to find his place.
No matter what it was, she could not help but admire the strength it had taken him to consider the fact that there was something more driving him forward. It was silly to give the imagining any credence. He would not belong to her and she would never belong to him. But it made her feel better to know why the thought had provoked her.
Rolling away from him on to her side, she closed her eyes and tried to find sleep.
‘You never answered my question.’ His voice had her opening her eyes. She need not ask which question he meant. She knew.
‘I do not intend to wed if I can help it. My freedom is too important to me.’ Hoping that would suffice, both for him and herself, she closed her eyes again.
* * *
Rurik awoke to the feel of a woman’s soft curves pressed against him. It had been a long time since he had awakened to such a simple pleasure, so he took a moment to enjoy her. The sweet scent of her filled his nose, wildflowers and the salt of her mingled together. He gritted his teeth, both enjoying and bracing himself for the sensation that moved through him when she shifted and pushed back, her lush bottom shoving gently against his hip. The blood thickened in his veins and his thoughts turned carnal. They seemed especially powerful because Annis was the woman in bed with him.
The attraction he felt for Annis was one that he could not deny any longer, not that he had been very good at denying it from the first. She was beautiful and strong and talking to her last night had only whetted his appetite for more of her. She was perceptive in a way that would have been unnerving if he thought he had anything to fear from her. True, he was currently chained to a bed and her prisoner, but she had obviously found it distasteful to keep him chained in that cage and saving him from Cedric’s rightful caution was the reason they were here. In this bed. Together.
He had to open his eyes because the imagery that thought provoked was too tempting. He could not lie with her and there was no sense indulging the dream. She still lay on her side, facing away from him, but at some point in the night she had covered them both with a thick blanket that they now shared. It was the only thing saving his rather obvious erection from making itself known to anyone who might walk into the room.
Shifting his hips to ease the pressure in the confines of his trousers, he disturbed her and she rolled on to her back, spilling flame-coloured hair across the bed. Whether she had released it from the intricate plaits or whether it had come loose during the night, he did not know. He only knew that it was the most fascinating colour and he itched to have it wrapped around his hands so he could feel the silk of it.
Forcing his thoughts from her and how strangely good it felt to wake up next to her, Rurik thought of what had passed between them the night before. No matter how he tried to go over the entire conversation, he kept going back to the end, when she had asked him if he had felt he had not belonged. Her startling perception had given him pause. That feeling of not belonging was one that even he had not allowed himself to dwell upon. It seemed odd that the one place he had lived his entire life, surrounded by people who had known him since birth, would not feel like home. So instead of facing that, he had found ways to simply not face it. Women were one distraction of many. He had thrown himself into training, learning to best his brothers and the older warriors from a young age. He had focused on guiding other warriors, becoming someone that his father had trusted to send out to speak on Sigurd’s behalf.
Now he realised that he had done those things not because he held a deep devotion to his people, but because he had always been looking for that moment when he might finally belong. If he became the best warrior, the trusted advisor, the one to find his father’s murderer, then it might all somehow come together.
The thought settled in his stomach like a coal, glowing and hot. His plan might not work. What if he found the men responsible and still did not belong? Not the way Brandt belonged, the oldest of the brothers. He should have come into his own and replaced Sigurd as King, but had been denied by Harald because of the taint the unavenged murders had brought to their family. The familiar anger came back to Rurik, easing the uncertainty and idea that he did not belong.
Anger was manageable. Anger was something he could hold on to and use against the world. It beat the vulnerability of doubt, so he held on to it tighter. He held on to that anger and allowed it to fuel his determination. He would find the killers and afterwards perhaps they could all find a way to help restore Brandt to his rightful place. Nothing mattered but that.
Annis shifted, one leg stretching out on the bed as she slowly started to come awake. Her foot peeked out from beneath the blanket and then a trim ankle, followed by a shapely calf, firm with muscle. Desire flooded him, warring with the anger for control. They threatened to mingle and become something he did not understand. But then she made a soft sound in the back of her throat. A sound that meant she was waking up. A sound that fascinated him. He wanted to hear it again, wanted to hear all her sounds.
Her eyelashes fluttered and she opened her eyes. To his amazement, a smile gently lit her face as she set her gaze on him. That smile softened him, taking his anger and engulfing it in the soothing embrace of hope and warmth until it was little more than an afterthought. A slow burn beneath the surface of his skin that could be attended to later.
He might have started to respond. His mouth might have turned upwards in a smile, but he could not be certain. Before he could even think, she remembered who he was and where they were and sat up with a sheepish expression on her face, pulling her leg back beneath the blanket.
‘Do not worry.’ He smirked at her. ‘I kept my hands to myself.’ He rat
tled the chain against the wood of the headboard for extra effect, wincing at the pain that shot through his deadened arms. It worked and she did a very bad job of hiding a grin while huffing out a breath as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
‘Good morning, Rurik.’
His greedy eyes took in the vivid length of her hair and the soft curve of her hip as she leaned down to put her shoes on. As strange as it seemed, he was sorry to see their night end. Gaining her feet, she started to walk towards the door, but his voice halted her.
‘You will not leave me here like this all day, will you?’
She glanced at him, her eyes dropped in a hint of shyness before she gathered her reserves and met his gaze full on. She was as fascinated by him as he was by her. That subtle move proved it. His breath caught in his throat when she took a few steps towards him. It was a depraved thought, but he wanted her to peel back the blanket and crawl into the bed with him. Perhaps a few hours would be enough to slake this wild desire he felt for her. He was almost willing to give it a try, even if she was supposed to be his enemy.
‘I will send Alder to release your restraints. You can have the freedom of this chamber, but you will not be allowed outside it.’
‘And when will you grant me another audience with Wilfrid?’
She took in a wary breath and chewed the inside of her bottom lip as if she was thinking of the best way to deny him.
‘I will have the names of the assassins before I leave here,’ he warned.
‘I do not know. Last night was straining for him. I imagine rest will be best for him today,’ she said, but there was a hesitance in her tone that put him on guard.
‘Tonight, then.’ It was more demand than request.
‘I will let you know after I have seen him today. It will not do to overexert him.’ She turned swiftly as if she did not wish to discuss it any longer. He watched her leave and for the first time he wondered if there was something she was not telling him.
Chapter Twelve
‘You spent the night with him?’ Cedric had barely waited for her to settle herself at the table before he asked the question.
Despite his harsh tone, the smile on Annis’s face refused to fade away. What should have been a very strange night, and had been in many respects, had not resulted in her losing any sleep. If anything, she had slept very soundly, better than she had since they had learned the Norseman was in the village asking questions.
‘Good morning, Cedric. How is Wilfrid this morning?’
‘He is overly tired. He was awake much of the night. Last evening was a task for him.’
She nodded. Those details were what she had expected. Wilfrid rarely joined them for their meals any more and, when he did, he usually took to his bed the next day. Last night would have proven even more trying for him, especially since Rurik had decided to break the news about Maerr. Any bit of upset seemed to send Wilfrid into a decline that took him several days to overcome.
She waited for the serving girl to fill her cup, before she said, ‘Thank you, Leofe. You may leave us alone now.’ She had no desire to have this discussion before the servants. They must all be talking as it was.
The girl gave her a nod and set her pitcher down among the others before taking her leave. Cedric heaved an impatient sigh as he waited, though Annis assumed the sigh was meant for her and not the girl. When the door closed with a soft echo, Annis finally allowed herself to meet his gaze. His brows were drawn together in a scowl she recognised all too well.
‘I spent the night in his chamber, if you must know,’ she said and found that she could not meet his gaze after all. While the night had passed innocently enough, she could not understand her response to Rurik this morning. There was a peacefulness about her that had not been there before sleeping beside him. Until she could figure out exactly what it meant, she did not want Cedric to root out the information with his all-knowing gaze. Instead of meeting his eyes, she focused all her attention on her food. Honey cakes always made her feel better anyway.
‘He was concerned that someone might attempt to bring him harm in the middle of the night,’ she added.
Cedric huffed across from her. ‘He does not trust our hospitality.’
‘Would you? He has been chained in a cage and then reluctantly given a chamber. He does not believe that you do not mean him harm.’
‘The Norseman is wiser than I gave him credit for.’
‘Why would you not believe him to be wise?’ she asked, mildly annoyed on Rurik’s behalf though she could not understand why she would care one way or the other for Cedric’s opinion of the man.
Holding his spoon poised above his porridge, Cedric said, ‘Primarily because he arrived in Glannoventa to face us alone. He should have brought an army.’
‘Perhaps he has no army. Had you seen the massacre you would know that dozens of warriors were killed. I do not know the details of the aftermath, but it seems that the kingdom is in chaos.’ There was no reason for her to try to get Cedric to understand Rurik, but she could not seem to stop herself.
Cedric harrumphed and took another bite. ‘Perhaps. I still say it was a foolish decision.’
‘The alternative would be to give up the search for justice.’
He nodded. ‘Sometimes wise men know that justice is not worth the risk.’
That message had been meant for her. Her eyes jumped to his and he met her gaze briefly before going back to his food. She understood then that this was why she was so determined to defend Rurik from Cedric. His search for justice was so much like her own, perhaps she was defending herself in the process. Her own search had come to an end, but it had brought her no peace. Would Rurik’s search be the same?
Deciding not to comment, she took another bite as the doors were suddenly flung open. Alder hurried into the room with a stranger at his back. The man was unkempt and dirty, and he had clearly been riding for several days. Cedric rushed to his feet.
‘Apologies for interrupting, but a messenger has arrived,’ said Alder.
The man rushed forward, hardly waiting for Alder to finish speaking before he said, ‘I would speak with Lord Wilfrid.’ His gaze flitted back and forth from Annis to Cedric, seeming uncertain upon whom he should focus his attention.
Annis rose to her feet. ‘Lord Wilfrid is indisposed this morning. I am Lady Annis, his daughter by marriage. You may speak to me in his stead.’
The man gave one last look to Cedric, waiting for his nod before turning his full attention to her. Although the man’s need for confirmation was not unexpected, it still made her grit her teeth in consternation. It was more proof that she would never be completely accepted as a leader here.
‘You have my apologies and condolences, my lady. It is my sad duty to inform you that King Ricsige of Northumbria has died.’
Cedric cursed and crossed himself all in the same breath. Annis was too stunned to respond right away. King Ricsige was the last true Saxon King of the North. Jarl Eirik had gained an uneasy truce with him and they had found peace for the last few years. However, with his death, the future was even more uncertain and unstable. Either the Danes would take over all of Northumbria, or the Saxons would install their own leader. Any uncertainty for Northumbria meant uncertainty for Glannoventa. Uncertainty for her.
Regaining her senses, she asked, ‘What has happened?’
‘He became ill. It was a natural death, I am told, my lady.’ What he did not say was that poison often seemed natural because there was no trace of it. No one would know for certain which would lead to bitterness and betrayal.
‘Thank you for bringing this message to us.’ He inclined his head in answer. ‘Would you stay with us?’
‘I am sorry, my lady, but I must continue on. I have many more to tell.’
Nodding, she said to Alder, ‘See that he is given food and a fresh horse. He may rest before c
ontinuing onwards.’
She waited until the door closed before sinking down into her seat. Cedric took his as well, though neither of them seemed inclined to finish eating.
‘You know what this means, Annis.’ He whispered it, as if to say it too loudly would bring the devil himself down upon them.
She could not answer him immediately. It was as if the blood in her veins had grown too cold to flow and sat pounding in her head. Only when she could rouse herself did she say, ‘It might not mean that, if King Ricsige has named a—’
Cedric shoved back from the table, impatient with her. ‘You know that it means you must marry now. Annis, this wavering has gone on for too long. Wilfrid is dying and he has no successor. If you do not marry, then Glannoventa and Mulcasterhas can be taken from us. Someone else will be brought in and God only knows how inept he might be. These people need you.’
She shook her head. Even knowing that he was right, she could not allow herself to believe it. ‘Wilfrid is still alive. No one, not even Jarl Eirik, will allow him to be removed from his position.’
Scratching his jaw in frustration, Cedric said, ‘That might be true, but that was when the King still lived. What do you think will happen when Jarl Eirik comes to our door? What do you think will happen when he sees Wilfrid with his own eyes? We have been fortunate to have kept Wilfrid’s state quiet for the past year, but when Jarl Eirik sees for himself that he is little more than an invalid—’
‘He is not an invalid!’
‘Isn’t he? God knows that I love him more than my own family, but we cannot continue in this vein. Wilfrid cannot make sound decisions as he once could. You and I have been working on his behalf. If it were just us, then I would say that we could continue.’ He paused and the slight wobble in his voice had gone when he spoke again. ‘But it is not only about us. We have all Glannoventa to consider. The people—farmers, fisherman, even children, Annis. Think of them, if no one else. You have the responsibility to make certain that their futures are secure.’
Falling For Her Viking Captive (Sons 0f Sigurd Book 2) Page 12
