Her step faltered and she glanced back over her shoulder. A frown marred her smooth brow. She placed the roll of parchment down. A light faded from her eyes. ‘Are the ledgers a problem?’
‘Will you expect me to write? I can speak Northumbrian, but it is not a language I have written before.’
He silently hoped that the Northumbrians kept records in a different language from the Franks, but he had a sneaking suspicion that they both used Latin—a language which he could read, but had trouble writing.
‘Are you saying you can’t write?’
‘Can most warriors?’
She pressed her hands together. ‘If you give me a verbal report every day, I can write it down. But the ledgers must be kept up to date.’
‘Impressive. An educated woman is rare.’
‘My mother had visions of grandeur for me. I was supposed to return our family to greatness since my older brother died before I was seven. It also helps to keep stewards honest.’
‘In what way?’ Valdar picked up the roll. Two different hands had made notations. He assumed Alwynn was responsible for the later entries. If so, she wrote with a fair hand.
‘How do you think I discovered the discrepancy in the first place?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘My husband pretended that he knew how to figure and read, but he didn’t know more than a few words. He was simply clever at asking and then accepting. Of course, he never allowed me to see the ledgers as I was a woman.’
‘Then he was a fool.’
‘Yes, in more ways than one. It is a pity that I didn’t see it until it was far too late.’ She took the parchment from him. ‘A verbal report will do. Every evening. I will fill in the details. I will not have the king taking my lands using the excuse that my records are not properly kept.’
Valdar concentrated on breathing steadily and not taking her into his arms. Last night’s dream had been full of anxiety about what would happen when she discovered he couldn’t keep written records. And it seemed she had expected it.
‘Will you teach me?’ he asked before he lost his nerve. ‘It will be a good thing to know.’
She blinked in surprise. ‘If you can stand being taught by a woman.’
‘If the woman was you, I’d consider it an honour.’
She tucked her chin into her chest but her being positively glowed. Silently Valdar hoped her late husband was suffering for what he’d done to her.
‘We can begin tomorrow. After you give me your first report.’
‘So...did you? Attain the grandeur that your mother longed for?’ he asked to distract his thoughts. He had no business feeling possessive about this woman. He needed to think about what he owed other people. It was odd how in a few days they felt far less real than the woman who was standing in front of him.
‘My mother died disappointed, but I think my father was pleased. He wanted the match. It suited his purposes for the estate and I was young.’ A sad smile touched her lips.
Valdar realised that he wanted to take the sadness away. He wanted to make her eyes sparkle as they had a few heartbeats ago. He concentrated on the parchment and the promises he had made to his dead friends. The gods demanded he fulfil his duty. Until he had done that, he had no right to want the things a normal man would want. He had no right to hope that the curse had been lifted.
‘These things can happen. More often than you think. Sometimes it works out.’
‘I only found out after we married what my husband was truly like. He had bedded my friend and she was in thrall to him and desperate that her husband not discover the affair.’ Her knuckles were white where she clenched the writing quill.
Giving in to impulse, he leant over and eased the quill from her fingers. ‘I hope that is not your late husband’s neck.’
A quick smile flickered across her face. ‘It was only after he died that I discovered the full truth. I’d had some misgivings, but I hadn’t been aware of the full extent of the mismanagement. I had been living in a rose-tinted dream world, seeing only what I wanted to see and not enquiring too closely about the rest.’
‘Maybe some day people will respect a woman for her brain, rather than looking towards a man with a strong arm.’ Silently he swore that he would be there for her. Telling her the truth about his heritage would only complicate matters. She needed his skill. He could leave this estate viable and then he would have done something, paid back the life debt he owed her, but he knew he would still worry about her and he would never forget her. The realisation shocked him to the core.
‘You are trying to make me feel better about the wool and the flour.’
‘A bit,’ he admitted with a shrug. Silently he thanked the gods that she hadn’t guessed his feelings. ‘You have to stop punishing yourself.’
‘It is working.’ This time her smile was like the pure sunlight coming out after a long spell of rain.
‘Did Gode speak with you? When you visited the other day? Is that why you sent Merri instead?’ he asked, wondering whether the old nurse had let slip anything about his true origins.
Gode had said very little to him after Alwynn had left and he dreaded facing the horror in her eyes when she did find out.
Her face went bright red and he knew she had been avoiding him. Something to do with Gode. ‘You must pay no attention to my nurse. Everyone knows that she is moon-touched. Some days she is better than others, but she is liable to say things which have no meaning.’
He stepped forward. Had Gode already told Alwynn? Or had she spoken in riddles? He hated that the hope sprang in his breast. Maybe the gods were with him and he could enjoy some happiness. ‘What did she say to you, Lady Alwynn?’
Her eyes flickered everywhere but on his face. ‘I should be getting back to where the women are working. There are a thousand things which could go wrong.’
‘Alwynn, what did Gode say to you?’ He put out his hand. ‘Surely you can trust me with that! If we are going to work together, we need to trust each other. If she has done something to upset you, let me know.’
Alwynn spun about on her heel, knowing her face flamed. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Valdar about the conversation with Gode and her proposition that she make him her lover. She mistimed her step and her arms circled several times in the air.
His hand came out and caught her about the middle before she fell. He hauled her against his strong body.
She forgot how to breathe, looking up at him. Her entire world seemed to come down to this instant. She wanted to go on staring at him and the curve of his lower lip, but she also knew it would be a bad idea. And how could she confess about Gode’s suggestion? Particularly as it felt so right to be in his arms. ‘I...I...’
‘Hush.’ He bent his head and his lips touched hers, gently but with firm intent.
The wild fire which had inhabited her being that first night had merely been banked, lying there glowing, waiting its chance. Her entire being fizzed and she knew she wanted more. Her body arched towards him.
She collided with his hard chest as his arms tightened about her, deepening the kiss still further. She sank into the warm, deep taste of him. Her memory of his mouth did not do it justice. This time she knew he was kissing her, not some ghost of a woman who had broken his heart.
His mouth trailed from her lips to the sensitive part of her neck and back again. A moan emerged. From her throat? From his? She didn’t know which. But the sound was enough to give that tiny sane part of her freedom.
She stiffened and pulled away, making a show of straightening her dress.
What did she think she was doing? Kissing in this room of all places? Anyone could walk in on them.
‘You are supposed to be my steward, not...’
‘Not what?’ He reached out a hand and trailed her cheek. ‘Your lover? What would be the harm in that? If it is something we both want?’
His words flowed over her like honey.
She resisted the temptation to turn her lips into his gentle touch. Theodbald’
s touch had never been gentle, not even in the days when he had been courting her. Then she had been too young to understand anything. Her head had been turned by a warrior actually paying attention to her and she had never thought to question why.
‘Don’t touch me, please,’ she whispered instead.
His hand fell to his side. ‘Is there some reason? Tell me you feel this as I do. I dream about you.’
‘A kiss. Nothing more.’ Her mouth pulsed as she said the words.
‘Look me in the eyes and say it is nothing.’
She lifted her chin and stared directly into his dark gaze. She wanted to drown in his eyes. It was worse now, knowing precisely how his mouth had moved against hers. But someone had to stop this madness.
All the vile abuse Theodbald had flung at her echoed around her brain. The last thing she wanted was for Valdar to see her the same way, to learn of her barrenness and her failures as a wife.
‘I am looking and my answer remains the same.’
‘Can you tell me why?’
‘What you ask is impossible. I need you as my steward. I’ve no need of a lover, despite what Gode might have told you.’
He tilted his head to one side and his eyes became unfathomable. ‘Is that what she spoke to you about?’
She blinked twice. ‘Did she put you up to this? Ask you to be kind to me? Pity the poor lonely widow? It is the sort of thing she might do. Well, I don’t need your pity or anyone else’s! I can manage just fine on my own.’
A muscle jumped in his jaw. And she knew she had hit a raw nerve. His entire face changed. From lover to warrior in the space of a breath.
‘I do my own courting,’ he ground out. ‘Always have done. I have never had any need to ask anyone for advice. And I’ve kissed women for many reasons, but never out of pity.’
‘I’m sorry if I offended you.’
‘You’re a beautiful woman, Lady Alwynn. I refuse to lie about that.’
‘Thank you for saying that, but I know I’m not.’
He watched her for a long heartbeat. ‘Some day, my lady, you will tell me who hurt you and who made you afraid. Know that if it is within my power, I will keep you safe.’
She turned her face away from him. ‘That day will never come. You may go now.’
He inclined his head. ‘Forgive me if I acted inappropriately. I am your steward. I was given to understand you might be receptive...’
‘From Gode?’
‘I know little of your customs. Women in my country are free to act as they please provided they are not pledged to another.’
She closed her eyes. He was a stranger here. And she had acted wrongly.
‘It isn’t you. It is me. I should have confronted Gode and I didn’t. I regret that she put any ideas into your head.’ She gave a half-smile. ‘My only need from you is for a steward who will help me run this estate.’
‘Is that what you truly desire?’
Her heart beat rapidly and she was certain he must know the lie. But it was either that or risk everything she had worked so hard to protect for a few moments of passion with this stranger. ‘Yes.’
She heard his footsteps as he left the room and released a long trembling breath. Her fingers touched her aching lips. She’d done the right thing sending him away.
* * *
Alwynn woke from her sleep with a dull ache thrumming in the apex of her thighs, making her long for a warm muscular body to curl up next to. Not just any body, only Valdar’s.
Her brain clung to the final remnants of the dream. The raw, wild images in her mind, the memories of how Valdar touched her in her dream and where his lips had kissed her, shocked her. She’d woken to find her hands at the apex of her thighs and her undergown tangled about her body.
She gingerly touched her mouth. It tingled as if he had just kissed her.
She flopped back against the pillows with a sigh. Dreams were just illusions. They had no basis in reality.
The reality was that Valdar would be leaving. He had a home across the sea. And her home was here. He wasn’t a hero from some mythical tale, but a real person. And real people disappointed you. The only person she could count on was herself.
If she allowed her brain to become muddled with dreams, she’d lose everything.
Chapter Eight
The day had gone better than Valdar had hoped. He had worked harder than he’d worked since he’d been an unbearded boy trying to prove himself on his first voyage. To the casual observer, he was certain, it merely looked as if he were dedicated to his job, rather than trying to avoid Alwynn.
For the most part, Alwynn’s tenants were pleased to see him. Several confessed they worried about Alwynn, being without a warrior and at the mercy of Lord Edwin. No one had a kind word for Edwin or indeed Alwynn’s late husband, Lord Theodbald. He was more convinced than ever that her late husband had abused her in some fashion.
That she had come through the abuse and saved the estate as well as looking after her stepdaughter only made her more desirable in his eyes. He found himself thinking about her and wondering how she was doing at odd moments during the day. Did she think about the kiss in the same way he did?
One of the older women had asked him outright if he had thought about marrying Lady Alwynn. He declined to answer. Staying here was not an option. Once they discovered who he was, they would all turn their backs on him, particularly Alwynn.
Valdar frowned. Right now, his main concern should be this farmer and the missing sheep. One of Alwynn’s tenants had reported that his sheep had gone missing and he wondered if Cleofirth the Plough had had anything to do with it.
This farm had a different feel about it. Cleofirth the Plough was a gaunt man with eyes which never rested. But it was his wife who concerned Valdar more. She was pretty enough, but she sported a fresh bruise on her right cheek and moved as if she expected the next blow to land at any moment.
While he never hesitated in battle, he knew he would never strike a woman. It would be against his code. Warriors fought warriors. They did not make war on children or women. He knew some, like Girmir, disagreed with him but it was the way he’d been brought up.
‘You won’t mind if I look around just to reassure Owain. It may be that I can spy a few places where your security is a bit lax,’ he said, spying the slight cringe the woman had given. He’d have a quiet word with Alwynn and Gode to see if his fears about Cleofirth’s wife were justified. And if they were, he’d try to figure out a way to keep the farmer from using his fists against a helpless woman again.
The farmer made an insolent shrug. ‘If you want to... I don’t know what my lady could be thinking of...hiring a foreigner as a steward. She could have used the brother of Lord Edwin’s steward. Now, there is a steward who understands.’
‘What do you know of him?’
‘There is no law against sharing a drink after finishing a hard day’s work in the fields. He comes from around here, so he knows what’s what. And I’ve been well pleased since my lady sold this farm to Lord Edwin.’
Valdar raised a brow. The man deserved to be pummelled for what he’d done to his wife. ‘I want to inspect that barn. The one you wanted me to hurry past.’
Alarm showed in the woman’s sunken eyes. ‘Stewards don’t usually inspect that barn. You told me that.’
‘Lady Alwynn’s new steward is checking the barn, my love,’ the farmer said, giving a hearty chuckle. ‘I won’t have Owain blackening my good name in this village.’
The woman’s cheeks flushed, revealing that she might have been pretty once. ‘You said that no one was going to look at that barn. You weren’t going to allow it.’
‘You know what poor simple creatures women are. She hasn’t been right...well...since she lost the bairn to be honest.’ He gave a simpering smile. ‘It is all right, pet, Lady Alwynn’s steward needs to do this. He won’t disturb anything. There ain’t anything to harm. You run along and let the men handle this.’
Valdar wanted to wring hi
s neck. And he silently vowed to make sure Alwynn knew about the wife’s plight. In her herbs and potions, there might be something that could help the poor woman. But it could be that she was indeed touched by the gods.
He watched the woman’s retreating back. Somehow he would find a way to help, if possible.
‘The barn if you please.’
‘Here you go.’ The farmer swung the door open. ‘For a steward, you are not very talkative. I was going to suggest sharing a tankard of ale, but I presume you are in too much of a hurry.’
Valdar raised a brow. ‘My lady would take a dim view of such behaviour.’
The farmer’s face flushed. ‘No harm meant.’
‘No offence taken.’
The surprisingly small barn was empty except for the fresh hay piled up against the wall. Valdar walked outside and checked that his eyes had not deceived him. From the outside it appeared as if it should be much larger.
The farmer watched with a slight insolent grin.
‘Do you only use this during the wintertime?’ Valdar asked, keeping his face carefully neutral. He thought he could hear the faint baa of a sheep, but he couldn’t be certain.
‘The cows are out on the pasture in the summer. Sheep as well. It is how we do things around here.’
‘And the straw? Any particular reason why it is piled against the back wall?’
‘Best place for it.’ The farmer rubbed his hands together. ‘Now, if you have seen what you need to...’
Valdar walked over to the straw and a vague memory surfaced. His father used to tell a story about a man who had a series of trapdoors and secret hiding spaces in his storerooms. It made no sense to have the straw there. He tilted his head, listening, trying to catch the sound of baaing sheep again. Nothing but his instinct told him that there was more to this than the farmer wanted to share. ‘What else is the barn used for?’
‘Nothing in the summer. In the winter, I keep the animals in here. My lady knows all about the arrangement. I am one of her better farmers—or I was until she had to relinquish these lands to pay her debts. Lord Edwin approves as well.’
‘I see. Then you won’t mind me moving the straw. I want to be able to give a good accounting of myself to Owain and my lady.’ Without waiting for an answer, Valdar walked over and began to move it away.
Summer of the Viking Page 11
