‘Gods, Astrid!’ His frown deepened. ‘Did I hurt you just now?’
‘No.’
Some of the tension left him. ‘All the same, I wish you’d told me.’
‘Are you angry?’
‘Not angry. Surprised.’
She had no trouble believing him, but why he should attach importance to the matter now when he had not before was hard to understand.
‘Don’t lie to me again,’ he went on, ‘even by omission.’
‘I’m sorry it was necessary.’
‘So am I. In future I’ll try not to create a situation where you’d want to resort to such a ploy.’
It was the closest he had come to an apology, but she had never expected him to unbend so far.
‘All right.’
‘All right, then.’ He drew a cover over her. ‘Here, before you catch cold.’
She summoned a smile of thanks and snuggled deeper into the bed. In spite of the awkwardness of the past few minutes, she was glad that the truth was out and that he understood why she had been economical with it in the first place. Perhaps now they could move on. After that first amazing sexual experience her imagination was alive with possibilities, knowing instinctively that there was more to discover and that he was key to that.
However, he seemed disinclined to pursue the matter. She had heard it said that men were often indifferent after desire had been sated and hoped it wasn’t the case here, and that he might at least curve his body around hers and hold her as he had done the previous night.
She waited but he made no further move to touch her. It tended to reinforce the thought that, even if he wasn’t angry, he was no longer interested either. Astrid turned on her side and shut her eyes, fighting disappointment.
* * *
Half an hour went by and Leif remained where he was. Surprise didn’t come close to what he’d felt just now, but he’d meant it when he told her he wasn’t angry. On the contrary, it pleased him to know that there hadn’t been a man before him. More than ever he was thankful that he’d taken his time and hadn’t hurt her. She ought to have told him the truth but he understood why she hadn’t. His former behaviour was not to his credit. Of course, he had been angry then, but anger wasn’t his sole motivation. The thought of her had excited him then and it still did. That was the trouble.
If he touched her now it wasn’t going to stop there, not by a long way. The very thought was enough to set him alight and it was too soon to give desire free rein. Tonight was just the first step on a much longer journey, but he’d shown her that intercourse didn’t have to be attended by violence, that there could also be pleasure in it for a woman as well as for a man. There was much he intended to teach her, but to do that he required a willing pupil. Next time he took her he wanted her to be eager and curious.
Imagination fuelled desire and he gritted his teeth, ruthlessly suppressing the wave of warmth in his groin. Gods! Just thinking about what he wanted to do with her was enough to make him hard. Half a minute more and resolution would be dead.
He propped himself on an elbow and dropped a kiss on her hair. ‘Goodnight, vixen.’
She turned a little and glanced round. For a moment the violet eyes searched his, their expression questioning; he had almost said pleading. ‘Goodnight, my lord.’
His gaze rested a moment on her naked shoulder now visible through heavy tresses of pale gold hair. He wanted to stroke it, to wrap it around his hand again and pull her head back for a long, deep kiss and then... He stopped himself there. Stroke her hair and he’d be lost faster than a ship on a reef. With a supreme effort he turned on his side and closed his eyes, mentally counting to a hundred.
Chapter Fifteen
When Astrid awoke next morning the place beside her was empty. Leif’s clothes were gone and so were his sword and dagger. Hurriedly she rose and dressed and then went to find Ingrid.
‘Jarl Leif rode out early with half-a-dozen men. He has gone to meet with his kin at a neighbouring steading.’
Astrid heard the news with disquiet but not surprise. ‘He hopes to raise an armed force, doesn’t he?’
‘For sure.’ Ingrid sighed. ‘Always there must be fighting and bloodshed.’
‘I think he has no choice now. Until he deals with his enemies he will always be looking over his shoulder.’
The older woman nodded. ‘Men make war and women sit at home and wait for them to return.’
‘I cannot just sit and wait,’ replied Astrid. ‘There must be something I can do.’
‘There’s work aplenty if you’re willing.’
‘I’m willing.’
‘Very well. You could make a start on this pile of mending. I swear torn shirts breed in the night.’
‘Give me a needle and thread and I’ll get started.’
She took a basket of work to the bench outside where the light was good and she could work undisturbed. It was a relief to have something to do and the mechanical act of stitching was soothing in its way. However, it could not entirely keep her thoughts from drifting. She wondered what Leif was doing. Whatever it was he would have dismissed her from his mind entirely. Men satisfied their physical need and then moved on without feeling any emotional involvement. For a woman it was different. Last night Leif had made her his, an experience that would remain with her always, as indelible as a brand. She was his mistress now in good truth and he would keep her as long as it pleased him. When he tired of her he would cast her off and forget about her. That would be his revenge. How much more complete it would be if she were foolish enough to let him conquer her heart as well! That at least was within her power to prevent.
She could almost envy Einar and the rest: their fate would be found at the point of a sword, swift and sudden and soon over. Hers was likely to be long and painful. Sharing Leif’s bed was going to have consequences eventually and he knew that. Was it part of his plan to get her with child and then cast her off? Could he be so cold-blooded? Suddenly the sunshine didn’t seem quite as warm as it had.
To take her mind off the future she worked diligently all morning and gradually the pile of mended garments grew.
* * *
Ingrid returned at midday with a platter of bread and cheese and a cup of ale which she set down on the bench nearby.
‘Just to keep the wolf from the door,’ she said.
Astrid thanked her and laid aside her work. Her companion eyed the neat stitching with approbation.
‘You sew well.’
‘It is a necessary skill, like spinning and weaving.’ She smiled wryly. ‘My mother once told me that when she was young no man would consider taking a bride until he had ascertained her ability in those areas.’
Ingrid nodded. ‘It’s true, and it still holds good; at least it does in the country area where I was brought up.’ She took a seat on the bench, regarding Astrid curiously. ‘Is your mother still alive?’
‘No. Both my parents died when I was young.’
‘Aron says that your birth is good.’
‘So it is.’
‘He also says that Jarl Leif carried you off. Is that true?’
‘It’s true.’
‘And he has taken you to his bed.’
Astrid knew there was no point in denying it. Likely everyone in the hall knew where she had slept last night. In such a close community it was impossible to keep the matter secret. Although the curtained sleeping places allowed a measure of privacy, sound still travelled. In all probability they had been overheard. ‘That too.’
The older woman shook her head. ‘I do not wonder that he should want to, but in good conscience a noblewoman should not be treated thus. He should marry you.’
Astrid’s hand paused over the platter. ‘I do not think that is his intention.’
‘He had a bad experience before and that has coloured his view. Even so, he should do the right thing now.’
‘He said that his first marriage had not worked out. That it ended in divorce.’
&nbs
p; ‘So it did, although it was happy enough to begin with apparently; a match that had the blessing of both their families. From what I’ve been told, Thora was very attractive and Jarl Leif much in love with her.’
‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know all the details, for I had not married Aron then and had not come to live here. It seems everything went well enough until Thora had a child. After that she changed completely, became strange in the head. Things happened...’
‘What things?’
‘Aron will not say, and none of the others who were here at the time are willing to speak of it either.’ Ingrid paused. ‘Well, I suppose sleeping dogs are best left alone.’
Astrid pondered the words after her companion had gone because they afforded an insight into Leif’s past, to the events that had shaped him. Clearly he was not incapable of loving or of being hurt. Whatever had happened back then profoundly affected him though. Was that why subsequent relationships with women were always transitory affairs? If so, it didn’t augur well for her. He should marry you. She smiled sadly, knowing that marriage was the very last thing on his mind.
* * *
It was late afternoon before she finished the mending and returned the basket of clothing.
‘I’ve been sitting too long. I need to stretch my legs for a while.’ She paused. ‘And before anyone asks, I’m not going to try and run away.’
Ingrid nodded. ‘As you will.’
Astrid left her and, taking care to remain in clear view, strolled to the edge of the pasture. She had no doubt that she was being watched, albeit at a distance. A glance over her shoulder revealed that her intuition was correct: there was a man by the end of the barn and another near the weaving shed. Leif wouldn’t take any chances. He’d permitted her a fair amount of freedom and she wasn’t about to give him a reason to change his mind.
She turned away and leaned on the wooden rail, surveying the cattle and horses grazing quietly on the early summer grass. It was a pleasant spot which made it hard to think that it had also been the scene of misfortune too. Had Leif found it hard to come back here? I follow the whale road. Was that because it seemed to offer a complete break with the past? She couldn’t blame him for wanting that. The trouble was that the past always caught up eventually.
Her gaze moved on, surveying the wider scene. A track ran alongside the edge of the pasture and led the eye to another fenced area on the edge of the trees. Curious, she set off in that direction. On reaching the place she realised it was a burial ground. Carefully placed stones formed boat graves, three in all. In addition there were a couple of other interments, identified by simpler head and foot markers. Had these people been Leif’s kin?
A shadow fell across the grass and she turned quickly to see one of the men who had been watching her before.
‘You should return to the hall, lady.’
The tone was courteous but she knew that the words weren’t a suggestion. Like all of Leif’s men, he was tall and well made, easily able to use compulsion if he had to. However, Astrid had no intention of being combative.
‘Very well.’ Turning her back on the burial ground, she began to retrace her steps. ‘Whose graves are those? Do you know?’
‘I don’t know, lady. It’s the first time I’ve ever been here.’
‘You haven’t been with Jarl Leif very long, then.’
‘Four years.’
‘He hasn’t been back here at all?’
‘No, lady.’
She digested that carefully but made no reply. Even for an adventurer that was a long time to be away from home. Unless he had chosen not to return. The events Ingrid spoke of went back further than four years so this man would likely have no knowledge of them. At all events he said no more, and she was content to leave the matter there.
As they neared the hall she heard the sound of hooves and then men’s voices raised in greeting. Her pace increased. She entered the building and hurried through the private quarters to the public area where Ingrid was ordering the servants to fetch ale for Jarl Leif and his men. Astrid paused at the edge of the room, her eyes seeking one man among the rest. He was in conversation with Aron and had his back to her, but the mere sight of him was enough to quicken her pulse. A servant offered both men a cup of ale and then moved on to the others. The conversation resumed. She could not hear their words but the mood seemed relaxed so perhaps the day’s business had gone well.
Several more men entered through the main door and several called greetings to their friends. With them was Gunnar. He paused, looking casually round the room. As his gaze lighted on Astrid he smiled. She ignored it, hoping he’d take the hint.
‘Would you mind?’ asked Ingrid. She nodded to the jugs of ale she was carrying. ‘An extra pair of hands would be useful.’
‘Of course.’
Astrid relieved her of one of the jugs and moved away. As she filled cups some of the men acknowledged her with a smile. It was a small thing but it made her feel less of an outsider. As she approached Leif glimpsed her out of the corner of his eye and turned round.
‘In good time, lady, for I’ve a thirst on me.’
She refilled his cup. ‘I hope your journey was successful, my lord.’
‘Aye, it was.’ He slipped an arm around her waist. ‘Did you miss me?’
‘Of course. I did nothing but think of you all day.’
He smiled and raised an eyebrow. ‘Much as I’d like to, I find that hard to believe.’
She pretended to consider. ‘Well, now that you mention it, I did a pile of mending too.’
‘If I came second to a pile of mending I’m going to have to try harder to dominate your thoughts.’
The ramifications of that created an unsettling glow of warmth in the region of her pelvis. ‘I did not say that you came second, my lord.’
‘No, vixen, though I’ll wager it’s true anyway.’
‘You do me wrong,’ she protested. ‘I’m sure I thought of you as often as you thought of me.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘I seriously doubt that.’
‘You were too busy recruiting an army to think about anything else.’
‘You have a way of lingering in the mind.’
Astrid shook her head. ‘I still don’t believe you.’ She made to move away but his hold tightened, preventing it.
‘Stay, vixen.’
There was no realistic prospect of doing anything else. Besides, she didn’t want to. This lighter mood was a side to him that he rarely showed, like the mischievous gleam in his eyes. It was attractive on its own but when combined with his closeness and the warmth of his arm around her it became dangerously charismatic, a danger she didn’t want to avoid. Nor did he seem in any hurry to be rid of her even when the men resumed their conversation. Anyone watching could have been forgiven for thinking them a devoted couple. Only the two of them knew how far that was from the truth.
Leif finished his ale and tossed the cup to a servant. Then he retired to his sleeping quarters, taking Astrid with him.
‘I would wash before I eat. It feels like I’ve got half the dust of the road stuck to me.’
‘I’ll fetch you some water, my lord.’
‘Presently,’ he replied. ‘First I want a kiss.’
‘Do I have anything to say about this?’
‘No.’
Reaching for her waist, he pulled her closer and brought his mouth down over hers. He tasted pleasantly of ale. It mingled with the strong masculine scents of leather and musk and horses. As if of their own volition, her arms slid round his neck and she pressed closer, kissing him back. His hold tightened and the kiss became deeper. A low growling sound rumbled in his throat and he drew back a little.
‘Careful, vixen, or you’re going to find yourself on that bed with your skirts around your waist.’
She smiled. ‘Perhaps I’d better go and fetch that water.’
‘Perhaps you had.’
She stepped away from him and picked up the empty
wooden bowl. Then with a last glance over her shoulder she was gone.
Leif let out a long breath, uncomfortably aware of the partial erection swelling against his breeks. Another minute and he’d have been past the point where he could control himself, a situation he found both erotic and disturbing. In spite of his earlier bantering tone, he had thought about her that day: both on the ride there when the recollection of the previous night was uppermost in mind, and again on the ride home when the notion of seeing her once more filled him with pleasurable anticipation. Get her out of your system. He shook his head, knowing that he was further than ever from that point.
* * *
He didn’t linger in the hall that evening. Long hours in the saddle combined with the thought of being alone with Astrid made retiring early an attractive option. Once again he made love to her and once again he took his time, watching, listening, always paying close attention to the language of her body. This time she yielded herself without the need for coaxing, following his lead, learning the things that pleased him, but she still wasn’t sufficiently relaxed for him to be able to take her to the full height of pleasure. It made him all the more determined that he would. This combination of sensuality and vulnerability was a new experience for him; it titillated his imagination and made him feel protective at the same time. Along with that was an unexpected streak of possessiveness. Her favours were for him alone.
That thought introduced darker ones and questions that needed answers. Propping himself on an elbow, he looked into her face.
‘The man who tried to rape you, Astrid. Who was he?’
She blinked, taken by surprise and by the directness of the question. Given the choice, she’d have preferred not to revisit the topic, but she suspected he would not be put off. She’d been the one to mention it in the first place so perhaps if she told him the matter could be laid to rest once and for all.
‘His name was Ozur. He was an older cousin who came to live at my father’s hall and learn the skills of the warrior. I had little to do with him: he was five years older to start with and close-mouthed and sullen besides, not an easy person to be with. But, as time went on, he began to pay me closer attention.’ She paused and took a deep breath. ‘I’d see him looking at me. He never said or did anything that might have attracted criticism or reproof; he just looked. Then, one day, when I returned from a ride, he was waiting in the barn. He exposed himself and then grabbed hold of me, but I bit him and he let go long enough for me to escape.’
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