Sandra Hill - [Vikings II 03]
Page 28
She squeezed his hands, which still held hers. “But that’s not all.”
Here it comes. The crux of their problem. Please, God…or gods…let me say this right. “Angela, ’tis true I have far too many children. You have to admit that. But whilst I have been away, I realized something important. There is naught in this world that would give me more pleasure than to have a child with you. I would cherish it, and you. I would even put up with Carmen’s dumb-man jokes, which would surely increase on that blessed event. If you would be mother to my children, then surely the least I can do is be father to your—our—child.”
“Yes.” Tears were streaming down her face now.
“Yes what?” Oh, God, if you are going to be on my side, now would be a good time.
“Yes, I will marry you. Yes, I love you. Yes to everything.”
“Thanks be! Can I get up now? My aging knee is about to crack.” I knew I could count on You. Thank You, nonetheless.
She laughed gaily through her tears as he picked her up once again and twirled her around in his arms. As he hugged and kissed her, it was unclear whether the wetness on their faces was her tears, or his.
“Did she say yes?” Torolf wanted to know. He was rushing up from the house with the whole troop following behind, including Grandma Rose, who had her rosary beads in hand, Juanita, who was drying her eyes on her apron, Miguel, who was drying his eyes on a linen pocket cloth, and Lida, who was waddling up at a fast pace, arms outstretched, saying, “La-La, La-La!” As Angela picked up his little girl, Hamr said, “I know just what to get you for a bride gift.”
Everyone answered for him: “A bow and arrow.”
Kirsten asked, “Can we have a big wedding feast? Please, please?”
“I want to wear flowers in my hair,” Dagny said.
“Well, I am not wearing a suit, and that is that,” Njal declared.
“Perchance I could carve a statue of the bride and groom for the nuptial cake,” Storvald offered.
“Well, you had all best wait a few weeks for this event so that I can dance at the wedding,” said Jogeir, who was still on crutches.
Kolbein, ever the soft-spoken one, piped in finally, “I could be the ring bearer.”
“Wouldst you have me for your best man, Father?” Torolf inquired hopefully. “That is what they call the main witness in this new world.”
“Please, sweetie, tell me that you will have the wedding soon after harvest…while my roses are still in bloom,” Grandma Rose said.
“Ay-yi-yi! The preparations we will have to make. The priest, the food, the wines, the music.” Juanita was speaking to Grandma Rose, and they were both smiling at each other, clearly jubilant at all the work facing them.
As everyone gathered around to congratulate them then, all of them speaking at once, Magnus put his arm around Angela’s shoulder and hugged her closer to him. An immense warmth came over him then, a feeling of rightness that he had found his place in the new world.
“You know, heartling, Rolf told me that he once considered himself the last Viking, and he took much pleasure and pain in that prospect. But I find there is only one thing I want to be.”
“And that is?” she asked, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the lips.
“I only want to be your Viking…Angela’s Viking.”
Epilogue
Vikings sure know how to party….
Magnus Ericsson and Angela Abruzzi were married on the lawn of the Blue Dragon on September 27, 2003. Father Sylvester officiated at the Christian rituals, but it is said that the Norse gods smiled down on them that day, too.
She wore her grandmother’s Italian lace wedding gown, and white roses in her hair. Magnus wore a black tux with a snow-white shirt. All of Magnus’s sons wore tuxes, too, and, boy, were they fuming! Kirsten, Dagny, and Lida were pretty in pink—organza gowns, with matching pink baby roses in their hair, just like Angela’s.
Rolf and Jorund had tried to convince Magnus to have a traditional Viking wedding, complete with Norse attire and foods and rituals, but Magnus had balked at that. He said he was a modern Viking, and he was putting aside the old ways. Rolf had tried to tempt him by offering to bring several well-fattened acorn hogs from Rosestead for the feast, but Magnus had declined the offer. Thus it was that Magnus allowed his children to select the menu; to no one’s surprise, they settled on dome-nose pizzas and chocolate layer cake. Scattered about the heavy boards were tubfuls of feast ale and Kool-Aid, not to mention the Blue Dragon’s own fine wines.
The band played Britain Spear and Arrow-smith music, among other tunes. Everyone danced, even Magnus, who claimed to be too big and clumsy, but turned out to be smooth and sexy in his moves. His children were, of course, mortified.
Lida and Kolbein were the flower girl and boy, respectively. Torolf, Rolf, and Jorund stood up for Magnus…though they professed to be standing him up, so shaky were his knees. All three argued over who was to be the “best man,” and finally settled on the three being the “best men.”
Carmen made only one dumb-man joke: “Why do only ten percent of men make it to heaven?”
Magnus had declined to be baited this day, and prided himself on his silence.
So, when she answered her own jest by saying, “If they all went to heaven, it would be hell. Ha, ha, ha,” Magnus just smiled at her and mouthed the word, Nipples.
Carmen gave them a huge box of condoms for a wedding gift.
Magnus repaid the favor by introducing Carmen to Harry Winslow, who took one gander at her big nipples and professed to be in love. Carmen, who’d recently separated from her husband, surprised everyone by blushing.
When the wedding feast was well underway, Angela took Magnus by the hand, leading him toward the old wine-making shed. “I have a groom gift for you,” she said with a decided gleam in her eyes.
To Magnus’s immense surprise, what he heard when he opened the door was this greeting: “Moo!”
He peeked inside, then peeked again. “You bought me a cow for a wedding gift?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” she said, practically jumping up and down with excitement. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” he said, hugging her warmly. “’Tis the best wedding gift I have ever received.”
“Well, I have another one,” she said nervously.
He cocked his head in question.
She put his hand over her stomach. “I’m…I’m going to have a baby.”
“But the birthing pills?”
“They don’t always work, Magnus. Please don’t think that I lied to you about being pregnant when you asked that one time. I was wrong.”
“Well, I was wrong about the cow.”
“Huh?”
“This baby is the best wedding gift I have ever received. Oh, sweetling, do not look at me like that. Didst doubt I would be anything but happy about a child of your womb…even when I was being blind and bull-headed?”
They hugged some more; then Magnus announced, “I forgot. I have a wedding gift for you, too.” Taking her hand, he ran toward the house with her, forcing her to lift the hem of her gown high off the ground to keep up with him. When they got inside the house, he started to lead her up the stairs.
“Not that surprise,” she said. “Not with all these people here.”
He laughed and chucked her under the chin. “Even I would not be so crude.” Lifting her in his arms, he carried her all the way to the third floor, where his bedchamber was located. On a low table sat a sloppily wrapped package in floral paper.
Tentatively she opened the package. Inside were six empty bottles of wine, each with the Blue Dragon label. Pinot noir. Chardonnay. Cabernet sauvignon. Sauvignon blanc. Zinfandel. Sangiovese. But the most amazing thing to Angela was the date on each of the labels: 2004. That was next year.
“Magnus?”
“My gift to you is that we will be resuming wine making at Blue Dragon.”
“But that’s impossible. Oh, I thank you for the kindness of your gesture, b
ut it would take a monumental amount of money to start up again.”
“Well, that is my second surprise, sweetling.” He opened the door to the closet, where there were four antique chests stacked one atop the other. He opened one and out spilled dozens and dozens of old gold coins. Likewise the second chest. And the third. The fourth one was different. It had precious gold and silver jewelry…chains, armrings, necklets, brooches…many set with amber, amethyst, or chrysalite stones, and a few with rubies and emeralds.
“You’ve had all of this and kept it a secret from me?”
“Well, not precisely a secret.”
She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot.
“Not a secret. A surprise.”
“This is worth a fortune!”
“Yea, ’tis. More than enough to open the winery again, I figure.”
“Oh, Magnus. Thank you so much.”
“Save your thanks, wench, for I have a third surprise for you.”
“You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “I lied on the stairway when I said I was not so crude a man.” He made this confession with total lack of contrition. “In truth, I am very crude. ’Tis one of my better traits. In fact,” he said, and picked her up, tossed her on the bed, flipped her gown up to her waist, and crawled up over her, “I have saved the best gift for last. ’Tis something I want to show you.”
“And that would be?” Luckily, she was laughing.
“The famous Viking S-spot.”
Author’s Note
Dear Reader:
I never intended to write a story for Magnus Ericsson, the third brother from The Last Viking and Truly, Madly Viking. Why else would I have created a man who was crude, a farmer, and the father of thirteen children? Definitely not hero material! More like a humorous secondary character destined to stay just that.
But then one day, the title The Very Virile Viking, came to me, and I realized that there was only one man who deserved such a description. Virile, indeed! But how to redeem a man who had had all those wives, mistresses, and “passing fancies”—that was the question.
It is my intention that this will be the last book in this particular series. However, you must note that I left Magnus’s son, Ragnor, behind in the Norselands, and I have portrayed him as quite a roguish fellow, even at sixteen. Do you think that was my subsconscious’s way of leaving a door open?
I hope you will let me know what you think of Magnus. I personally think he developed into quite a guy.
Your thoughts on my books, your support, and your loyalty are always appreciated. And I’m always willing to listen to what you would like to see next on my creative palette. Another Viking? If so, should it be the twins, Toste and Vagn? Or young Jamie, the Highland Viking? Or one of Tyra’s many sisters? Or Alrek, the clumsy boy from My Fair Viking?
But perhaps it shouldn’t be a Viking at all. Instead, maybe another contemporary Cajun story, in the vein of The Love Potion? Better yet, another Baptiste from the historical Louisiana bayous might not be a bad idea (think Frankly, My Dear and Sweeter Savage Love). Isn’t it wonderful that there are so many choices?
I love to hear from you readers—that your husband or significant other now calls you heartling or sweetling, that you stayed up all night reading one of my books, that you laughed out loud at times and shed a tear at others. This is why I write.
Sandra Hill
P.O. Box 604
State College, PA 16804
e-mail: shill733@aol.com
Web site: www.sandrahill.net
Praise
ROMANTIC TIMES RAVES FOR CAREER ACHIEVEMENT AWARD WINNER SANDRA HILL!
MY FAIR VIKING
“My Fair Viking is another entertaining story in Ms. Hill’s Viking series…a great read.”
THE BLUE VIKING
“Trademark Sandra Hill, The Blue Viking is filled with lots of humor, some of it laugh-out-loud fun.”
TRULY, MADLY VIKING
“Once again the ingenious Ms. Hill brings a megadose of humor to her captivating and fun-filled time travels. Another winner!”
THE LOVE POTION
“The very talented Sandra Hill adds to her already impressive list of reading gems with this delightfully funny and sexy tale.”
THE BEWITCHED VIKING
“A humorous, adventurous, sensual tale!”
THE LAST VIKING
“A fun, fast-paced page turner. The reader feels Sandra Hill’s real joy in creating her story and the wordplay between the characters enhances the story.”
THE OUTLAW VIKING
“Sandra Hill has written an entertaining battle-of-the-sexes romance that will keep readers laughing to the very end.”
MORE ROMANTIC TIMES
PRAISE FOR SANDRA HILL!
LOVE ME TENDER
“Leave it to Sandra Hill to take this fractured modern fairy tale and make it a wildly sexy and hilarious romp. Her fans will be delighted.”
SWEETER SAVAGE LOVE
“A fast-paced, sensual yet tongue-in-cheek story peppered with plenty of dynamite dumb-men jokes and riddles. This funny and uplifting read will brighten any day!”
DESPERADO
“Humorous repartee and a high degree of sensuality mix well in Hill’s tale of a wisecracking poor boy and the aristocratic woman he loves.”
THE TARNISHED LADY
“Sandra Hill has written a sensual, vibrant, fast-paced tale of two proud lovers, their entertaining battle of wills and the steamy passion that overcomes them.”
Other books by Sandra Hill:
MY FAIR VIKING
THE BLUE VIKING
TRULY, MADLY VIKING
THE LOVE POTION
THE LAST VIKING
FRANKLY, MY DEAR…
THE TARNISHED LADY
THE BEWITCHED VIKING
THE RELUCTANT VIKING
LOVE ME TENDER
THE OUTLAW VIKING
SWEETER SAVAGE LOVE
DESPERADO
Copyright
THE VERY VIRILE VIKING. Copyright © 2003 by Sandra Hill. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © May 2010 ISBN: 978-0-06-201373-6
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