“He’ll get nothing from me,” William remarked. “Not a bloody farthing.”
She swung out her fist and connected with his jaw. The blow hurt her hand, but before William could strike her in retaliation, Arik caught the man’s hand. “I should break all the bones in this hand, for what you did to her.”
Her rage was not merely for the way William had nearly hit her—it was also for the way he’d broken her during the months of their marriage, making her believe that she was not good enough for him.
“You will give her the lands and the dwelling at Hawthorne House,” Arik demanded, tightening his grip.
William let out a cry of pain, struggling to free himself. “The lands are entailed,” he argued. “Neither she, nor her bastard, can have them.”
At that, Arik’s face remained impassive. His knuckles whitened, and William screamed, grasping his hand in agony as if his bones were indeed breaking beneath the force of the Viking’s grip.
She supposed she ought to pity him or urge Arik to stop. Instead, she took satisfaction in watching William suffer. He deserved it for what he’d done.
At that moment, Marcus opened the door and hurried outside to join them. A pained expression came over his face when he saw his brother. When Arik released William, the man writhed on the ground, clutching his hand.
Marcus kept a visible distance and addressed him. “Lord Thorgraham, I understand that you have become Miss Nelson’s...protector. But it would be better to discuss this in a civil manner. Tomorrow morning, you will both come to my town house. I will see what arrangements can be made to offer compensation to Miss Nelson for my brother’s... indiscretion.”
An indiscretion? It was far worse than that. Lord Hawthorne had ruined her in the eyes of everyone and had taken her dignity. No amount of money would atone for that.
But when Juliana studied Marcus’s face, she saw regret and embarrassment in his eyes. It did seem that he was trying to help them, though she wasn’t certain she wanted anything from him.
William staggered to his feet and shot his brother a furious look. “Let Thorgraham provide for her and the bastard. If he wants her, the money won’t matter to him.”
Before Juliana could react, Arik’s fist connected with William’s jaw. The man reeled and dropped to the ground like a brick.
Marcus stood there, looking uncomfortable. “I cannot say he didn’t deserve that.” Then he took a step backward. “Lord Thorgraham, please accept my apologies for my brother’s actions. I will attempt to make things right on his behalf. But since I am not in command of the estates any longer, there is not a great deal I can do.”
Juliana realized that Marcus was hardly concerned about her welfare; he seemed more worried about offending a duke’s son. There was far greater social damage if their family offended the Duke of Somerford.
She gave a nod to show him that she’d heard his words. Yet inside, she felt hollow, as if her life had collapsed upon itself. William hadn’t wanted anything to do with her or with their son. Now, she wished she’d never seen him again.
“I want to go home,” she told Arik.
“Then I will take you there.” He guided her up the stairs and inside the doors. “Wait here until I return.”
She ordered the footman to bring the carriage around and tell her grandmother that she was leaving early. Numbly, she leaned against the wall, wishing she could disappear. No one spoke to her, though she knew they were gossiping. When Arik returned, he was holding a white cloth napkin with something folded inside.
“I’ve already sent for my grandmother’s carriage,” she told him. “I’ll be all right. You needn’t come with me.”
“I will not let you go alone.” His bearing revealed that he meant every word. Juliana decided it was best to say nothing and let him escort her. What did it matter? She had already lost her reputation and learned that she’d been deceived by the man she had once called her husband.
She wanted to weep.
Arik led her outside again and helped Juliana into the carriage. Thankfully, William was already gone. Then her Viking joined her in the vehicle, closing the door behind him.
She said nothing, feeling the weight of her folly. Inside, she felt bruised and broken, so angry with herself. For years, she’d waited for her husband to return. Though she’d not been happy with the marriage, the gift of her son was a miracle in itself. And now Harry’s life would be shadowed by the shame of illegitimacy.
“I brought cake,” Arik said, unfolding the napkin. The moment he did, her tears started to fall. It was such a thoughtful gesture that it broke apart the fragile hold upon her feelings. She wept for the foolish dreams she’d had, that somehow William would acknowledge their marriage. Even if the worst happened, if he’d wanted to divorce her, she could have protected Harry’s inheritance. Now, they had nothing at all. Not even her good name.
Arik set the cake aside and drew her into his lap, holding her close. She cried until his shirt was damp from her tears, but she didn’t care. He said nothing but stroked her back while she wept.
“I should have killed him,” he said, matter-of-factly. “He deserved to die.”
Juliana sniffled, “I’m glad you didn’t. I wouldn’t want you to hang for murder.” She drew back to look at him, knowing that she was likely a pitiful mess. But from the way he was looking at her, he didn’t seem to care.
“I will still fight for you and your son,” he said, resting his hand upon the base of her neck. His palm warmed her skin, and she grew sensitive to his touch, reminded of the desire he’d kindled.
“I never should have believed a word he said,” she admitted, feeling the embarrassment rising within her. “I should have known that he would do something like that, in order to seduce me.”
And then, what William had said about her... that she’d not been any good... it made her even angrier.
Arik’s thumb grazed the pulse point at her throat, and she grew aware of his desire, for she was seated upon his lap. Though he didn’t speak, there was no doubting that he wanted her.
“He was unworthy of you, kjære. You are better off without him.”
“I am a fallen woman now,” she admitted. “I bore a son to a man who was not my husband.”
“It was not your fault,” he insisted. “In the eyes of the gods, there was no shame. You spoke your vows, believing them. That is all that matters.”
“But Harry will suffer for it. They will taunt him.”
“Then I will teach him to fight his enemies. No one will taunt him.”
She almost smiled, for she believed he would. Any man who would give a knife as a gift would undoubtedly teach her son how to defend himself. But she said softly, “You told me you would not be here when the moon has ended its phases.”
His expression darkened, and he reached around her waist with both hands. “I cannot say how much longer I have, Juliana of Arthur.”
Inside, she held a deep fear that he would be gone within a matter of days. And she didn’t want that—not at all.
The carriage came to a stop in front of her grandmother’s home, and she suddenly realized that she could not bring Arik inside. He would have to leave her here... and that wasn’t what she wanted.
With trembling hands, she touched his face. “I gave everything of myself to William, and he gave me only shame in return. I’m angry at the choices I made and all the years I lost.” Her heart was aching with grief and needs she didn’t understand. “Take me back to where you are staying. This night, I would rather be with you.”
His gaze held a hunger that echoed her own. Briefly, he opened the door and spoke to the driver, giving the order to return to the duke’s town house. When he returned to her, he said, “I’m going to spend all night pleasuring you, kjære. And when I’ve finished, you won’t remember any man but me.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
ARIK GUIDED JULIANA up the steps of the house, but her face was pale with fear. She kept her gaze averted, and he opened
the door for her. A footman hurried forward, but Arik waved him back.
“Can I get you anything, my lord? Shall I send a maid to prepare your room?”
He shook his head. “I will take care of it myself. Leave us.” The footman obeyed, and Arik led Juliana up another staircase toward the room the Duke of Somerford had given him.
She hadn’t spoken a single word since they’d left the carriage, and it made him tense to see the lingering hurt in her eyes. She had been faithful to a man who had betrayed her, and now her son would bear the shame. He understood how it felt to be made into a fool.
Svala and Eyker had deceived him in the same way, filling him with such wrath that he’d attacked Eyker without thinking. His reaction had cost him his life, and he didn’t know how much longer he could stay in this world. But he would not rest until William of Arthur had compensated Juliana for what he’d done.
Once they were inside his bedchamber, Arik built a fire upon the hearth. When a warm blaze had started, Juliana came to stand before it, holding her gloved hands out. Her hair was still bound up, and a strand of pearls rested at her throat.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she murmured. “I know what others will say about me.”
“I care not for anything they say. The only one I care for is standing before me.” He moved in closer. Juliana’s eyes were red from crying, and she looked weary of the world.
She raised her eyes to his, and in them, he saw desolation and fear. “I never thought my life would turn out this way.” Her hands were knotted together and she added, “I tried to do everything right. I chose a nobleman, and I thought I had married him. I tried to be a good wife to him and bore him a son. But in the end, he left me with nothing.”
He rested his palm against her cheek, caressing the soft skin. Then he picked up her hand and drew it around his neck. “You are not alone, kjære.” Despite the tumultuous few days, he wanted her to know that. He would fight for her until his life ceased to exist.
Juliana stared at him with those troubled gray eyes, as if she knew not what to do anymore. “I am glad you are here.” She leaned in, resting her cheek against his.
Her words slid around him like an embrace, making him realize that he had never cared for Svala in this way. Juliana was a woman of courage, a woman any man would be proud to love. Yet, a coldness filled him at the realization that he could not stay.
Already, he was losing feeling in his feet and lower legs. It was a strange sensation, to walk as a normal man did, but not to feel a single step. He sensed it was a sign from the gods, that he had only a few days remaining. On the last day, he would feel nothing at all. And though he’d expected that all of this would end, it was a chilling reminder that his time was running out.
He’d believed these weeks had been a second chance, a way of earning a place for himself in the afterworld. Now, he wondered if they were a punishment. He had met a woman of honor whom he did not want to leave behind. But he had no right to remain in her world. He had already died once, and his time here was fleeting.
He kissed her softly. “Before I leave, I will see to it that you have your vengeance.”
She never broke her gaze with his, but her hands crossed over her waist, like a woman who was with child. It was an unconscious gesture, but it did make him wonder what it would have been like to sire a child with Juliana. She was exactly the sort of woman he might have once wed.
“I am glad you struck William down.” Her voice held traces of fury. “And I wish I had known about William’s deception sooner. I was faithful to him all those years. At least, until you came.”
“And now?” He reached for her waist, resting his hands at her hips.
“I feel lost inside. I don’t know what to do... where to go.” She shook her head, resting her hands upon his. Then she lifted her chin. “I just needed to be away from all of it tonight,” she admitted.
“You may stay as long as you want.” Never would he turn her away.
“Thank you.” Juliana tried to muster a smile, but her pale complexion belied her words. Whatever the reason she’d come here this night, it seemed that her courage was faltering. “Why did the duke bring you with him to London? Why is he allowing you to pose as his son?”
“I did give him half of my brother’s fortune,” he said. But he knew it was more than that. The older man watched him as if he half-expected Arik to somehow transform back into his lost son. “And the lie gave me a means of seeing you again. Others believe I am his son.”
“You do look like him,” Juliana admitted. She added, “I should warn you... since they believe you are a marquess, every woman in London will throw herself at you.”
“I will not be here for long,” he said. “And there is only one woman I want.”
Her face held a blush, and she shrugged. “Thank you for being here. I am grateful for everything.”
He traced a line down her jaw while he took in the beauty of her face, the golden hair and her gray eyes holding back the storm of her emotions. There was a faint tingle in his fingertips, as if to warn him that he would soon lose feeling in his hands. “What do you need from me this night?” he asked. “Whatever that may be, I will give it.”
“I want something for myself,” she admitted. “A night in your arms.”
He understood that she wanted to lose herself in physical release, to push away the hurt that she’d endured.
“Kiss me,” he commanded, wanting her to make the first move. She closed the distance, rising on tiptoe, lifting her mouth to his. He tasted the salt of her earlier tears and the desperation.
But this night, he would turn her sadness into pleasure. He reached behind her, fumbling with the cursed buttons. He preferred the ties that women wore in his time, for it was far easier to get them naked. After jerking at the buttons, still kissing her, Juliana started to laugh against his mouth. “You don’t need to rip off the buttons, Arik. Just push them through the holes.” The amusement on her face was better than her earlier disappointment.
After he managed to unfasten the gown, he lifted it over her head, revealing another layer. The white linen was gathered into tucks and embroidered with rose thread. Someone had spent a great deal of time making the garment. Juliana’s arms were bare and it exposed a large expanse of her throat and the skin above her breasts.
“I am beginning to see why you required a servant to help you undress.” He wished he could simply slit it open with a blade and be done with it. But he loosened the laces of her undergarment, turning her to face him.
She stood, her gray eyes meeting his with longing. He stopped undressing her and kissed her temple, then her jaw. He used his mouth to tempt her into surrendering herself and was rewarded when she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I have never met a woman like you before,” he admitted. “You are not of this earth. Perhaps Freya herself was your mother.”
Juliana began pulling the pins from her hair, letting it fall below her shoulders. The golden mass shone in the firelight, and she reached out to untie the cravat at his neck. He removed his coat and let her lift away his shirt until he was bared before her.
“I remember the first night I was with you,” she murmured, running her hands over his chest. “You were so hard. So strong.”
Her words were a caress, and he caught his breath when she moved her hands over his ribs. She aroused him deeply, until all he could think of was pressing her against the wall and taking her.
He removed the garment that she’d called a corset until she stood in only a single shift. Beneath the thin linen, he saw the darkened hue of her nipples. He wanted to taste them, to draw her into his mouth until they puckered with her own needs.
He sat down on a low stool and brought her to sit on his lap, with both of her legs around him. His rigid arousal was pressed between her legs, and she gave a slight gasp when he pulled her hips forward. The shift moved up to her waist, leaving her bare beneath. With one hand, he reached between them, feeling the sof
t hair of her mound.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she closed her eyes. With one hand he teased her, while he pulled down her shift to reveal her bare breast. It was round and full, with a darker nipple. He bent down with his mouth, tonguing her throat. Then he slowly slipped a single finger inside her.
She let out a soft gasp, and he felt her wetness coating him. She desired him as badly as he wanted her. But he was intent on making this night one she would not forget. For time was slipping away from him.
He continued kissing a path downward, toward her breast. “Do you feel me inside you?” he murmured. To emphasize his question, he invaded her flesh, moving his finger in and out.
“Y-yes,” she answered. She was holding fast to his shoulders, her head arching backward.
“Squeeze against me,” he ordered.
A moment later, he felt her walls tightening. She shuddered and he rewarded her by taking her nipple into his mouth. He added a second finger inside her, and she cried out, still squeezing against him.
“Don’t stop,” he ordered.
Juliana couldn’t have stopped if she’d wanted to. The shocking sensation of his fingers inside her was making her body ache. And then, oh then, his thumb nudged her hooded flesh like he’d done the other night. He pressed against her, circling while his tongue did the same. She strained against him, her breathing hitched, while she clenched his fingers.
The throbbing became a deep pulse that robbed her of all senses. She was drowning in sensation, feeling as if every inch of her skin was flooded with desire. Like an invading warrior, he took her under, making her tremble with the force of his touch.
She couldn’t stop the wave of release that shuddered through her, sparking such a deep spasm that every inch of her skin seemed to shudder beneath his hands. It was breathtaking to be touched by this Viking.
But she didn’t want to sit on his lap and accept his touches, giving nothing in return. Juliana bent down, kissing his hair and drawing him up to take his mouth with hers. She kissed him hard, slipping her tongue inside to mingle with his. Her sudden aggression pushed him even farther, and he stood up, taking her off his lap. In one swift movement, he tore her chemise down the middle. His face was harsh, offering no respite.
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