Harlequin Historical May 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Notorious in the WestYield to the HighlanderReturn of the Viking Warrior

by Lisa Plumley

  ‘You’re neither. You must know that!’ Kara said sharply. ‘Why did you have to prove it to him?’

  Ash gave her a warning look. Didn’t she understand about little boys? He had done a number of equally dangerous things on a dare. And it was no good talking about how horrible this boy was, Rurik had to be shown the truth. Rurik needed other heroes.

  ‘Because I did.’ Rurik’s bottom lip trembled. ‘Because I never get to do anything! I’ll never become a warrior if I never test my skill. Far-far made me promise to always test my skills.’

  Ash glanced over to where Kara stood, looking completely shocked and drained. It was sheer strength of will that was keeping her upright. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to the bed they used to share and then watch over her until she recovered. He checked his movement. It would be wrong for so many reasons.

  From what she had said earlier, he doubted Kara liked Rurik to do much of anything, particularly anything that held a hint of danger.

  He had constantly rebelled against the strictures Gudrun had put on him. Kara knew that. She and her mother had bound up his wounds after his mishaps enough times.

  Why would Rurik be any different?

  The boy needed to be taught how to do things properly. When his father had returned, Ash had finally been allowed to learn things, but Ash intended to be a different sort of father. For Hring, it had all been about being the best warrior and ensuring his son excelled. Ash wanted his son to have the skills to survive should the worst happen.

  What Rurik did when he was grown up was up to Rurik, but he would have the skills necessary to make an informed choice. Kara would have to give way on this matter. A boy’s training was a father’s responsibility.

  ‘I’m sure your mother means you need to learn the proper time and place to climb. A warrior needs to learn to obey those he serves. And at the moment you serve your mother.’

  Rurik’s mouth became an O as he digested the piece of information. ‘But she says I’m too young. Always when I ask, she says this. And Gudrun, too. Nobody lets me do anything.’

  Ash struggled to keep a straight face. Gudrun he could have predicted, but Kara had always seemed eager for an adventure, or agreeing that he should take a risk. It pained him that she had changed so much. ‘Things will change now that I have returned.’

  Rurik’s eyes shone. ‘Truly?’

  ‘You’re only six,’ Kara said with a no-nonsense tone in her voice. When had Kara developed that tone? ‘How many times do I have to tell you, Rurik—wait until you get older. The time will come.’

  ‘I want the time now.’

  ‘Now that I have returned,’ Ash said, giving Kara a significant look, ‘I will make sure you learn how to do all the things a warrior needs to know. Like my father taught me.’

  He ignored Kara’s swift intake of breath. He was willing to give her time to decide about their marriage, but he absolutely refused to compromise on their son.

  ‘You knew Far-far? We scattered his ashes at the base of the tuntreet. I was very big and brave then.’

  Ash did not trust his voice for several heartbeats. Big and brave, because he hadn’t been there. He had missed out on so many things. Some from necessity, but some from his stubbornness. He could not replace the sands of time, but he could try to be there in the future, for the important events. He swallowed hard and waited until the lump in his throat cleared. ‘He was my father. It is good to know you stood in so well for me. I will visit the tuntreet later and you can show me precisely where you poured the ash, if you remember.’

  ‘I remember.’

  He ruffled Rurik’s blond hair. ‘Good boy.’

  He swore the boy grew several inches in front of him.

  ‘Ash Hringson, you have returned,’ Gudrun said, coming forward, destroying the moment. She’d always had that knack of butting in.

  Ash gave a curt nod to Gudrun. ‘Good day to you, Gudrun. It is good to know you were looking after my son with the same zeal you used to look after me.’

  Gudrun flushed, but she dropped to a low curtsy, hiding her features. ‘Your lordship...are you real?’

  Silently he swore the woman and this Virvir, whom Rurik appeared to idolise, would be gone before nightfall. Changes would have to be made. ‘I had better be or otherwise a ghost rescued my child.’

  Two bright spots appeared on Gudrun’s cheeks. ‘Of course. My great-nephew had just come to fetch help before you arrived. The young lord had climbed when he shouldn’t have and my great-nephew realised the danger. He would have been rescued, but it was good that you arrived when you did.’

  Ash schooled his features. Trust Gudrun to tell the tale her way. She always did.

  ‘Your great-nephew’s name wouldn’t happen to be Virvir?’

  ‘That is right, your lordship. He is a strong boy. My sister’s son’s child. You remember my sister? She used to give you cake.’ Gudrun motioned to a sturdy-looking boy with pig-like eyes. Ash knew the type—a bully and a coward, always willing to lead others astray. He had encountered enough of them on his travels. ‘A bright strapping lad he is, too. Not an ounce of trouble in his body. A real credit to your old aunt. He came straight away when he saw Rurik was in trouble.’

  Virvir beamed. Ash ground his teeth and retained a narrow lead on his temper.

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Virvir, see, I made it down and I do have a father,’ Rurik called out.

  ‘I’m sure he never doubted it, your lordship.’ Gudrun dropped another curtsy, but not before she gave Virvir a cuff on the ear. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, where have you been, your lordship? These past seven years?’

  ‘He has been in Viken, Gudrun,’ Kara said with an edge to her voice. ‘Ash has returned a hero. He was involved in the raid on Lindisfarne which has been on everyone’s lips lately. He will tell the tale where everyone can hear so there can be no mistakes or embroidering. I think you had best take Virvir to the kitchen where he can do his job.’

  Ash struggled not to smile. Kara obviously had dealings with Gudrun’s trade in gossip.

  ‘Does your uncle know you are home, my lord?’ Gudrun asked, stopping in mid-waddle. ‘He will be overjoyed to see you. I can remember how close you once were.’

  Close once. Had he been as naïve as Rurik with his hero-worship? He could recall Kara berating him for it. He should have listened, but with a young man’s arrogance he’d seized the opportunity to prove his worth with both hands.

  Ash inclined his head. ‘My uncle was there when I made my presence known...at the wedding, which was cancelled for obvious reasons.’

  ‘Mor, you are not marrying Valdar?’ Rurik’s voice sounded shrill. ‘Why?’

  Ash kept his body still and waited. Kara was fully capable of not telling him what she was thinking, but he doubted she would lie to their son. Her cheeks flushed.

  ‘How can I be when I am married to your father?’ Kara’s eyes pinned him to the spot.

  Their son seemed to accept the statement at face value, but a cold prickle ran down Ash’s back.

  An answer, but not the emphatic one he desired. Another scrap of comfort, but he wanted more, particularly now that they were back in Jaarlshiem. He would show her that he was the right sort of husband for her and that she should give him a second chance. The key to her was through Rurik. He felt certain of that.

  ‘I want to have a look around the estate,’ he said to prevent the urge to pick Kara up and take her somewhere and seduce her into agreeing. Patience. ‘Perhaps you would care to show me, Rurik, as you have been looking after things in my absence.’

  Rurik flushed. ‘It is Mor. Mor runs everything.’

  Of course, Kara would. Who else? It was obvious from the state of the outbuildings that the estate prospered. ‘I am sure your mother will allow you to show me. She will h
ave things she wishes to do or she may come with us.’

  He waited for Kara to say that she wanted to join them. Absently he rubbed the knot in his left leg. The climb had done more damage than he’d thought it would. It had never been right since that fight with the Ranerike three years previously. Ivar the Scarred had done his best to set the bone, but he was no healer. If he asked Kara to look at it, she might start questioning why he hadn’t come home then. The longer he was back here, the more the guilt rose in his throat. Ash attempted to push it away. He could not change the past. The less said, the soonest mended.

  ‘What do you think, Kara? Is Rurik capable of showing me around the estate? Or he is too young?’

  Kara’s face was a study in self-control, utterly expressionless except for the firming of her mouth. Her stubborn expression, her mother had called it. Ash smiled. He could remember things.

  ‘It is good of you to ask Rurik,’ she said stiffly. ‘There are things I must attend to.’

  ‘A bath?’ he enquired softly. ‘You mentioned it earlier.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Please grant me a little intelligence. I’ve a list of things that has to be done before I can consider looking after my own needs.’

  ‘Or maybe you are waiting for me to join you in the bath?’

  ‘Go!’ She pointed, but her cheeks flamed bright red and she made no attempt to contradict him. The thought made him absurdly happy. ‘Rurik, make sure you show your father everything, but no more climbing.’

  Rurik promised and they started off. Ash came down far too heavily on his left foot on the third step as he adjusted his stride to keep pace with Rurik. He winced at the bone-jarring pain.

  ‘Wait! What have you done to your leg, Ash?’

  ‘An old injury. It will pass.’ He forced a smile. ‘One would almost think you cared, Kara.’

  She tapped her foot on the ground. ‘It doesn’t look old to me.’

  ‘I strained it a bit during the climb. We rode a great deal without stopping. My muscles always seize up. The walk ought to ease it. Movement seems to help. Always.’

  ‘This has happened before?’

  ‘Enough times. I injured the leg many years ago. It is when I sit in one position for a long time that it locks and aches, Loki take it.’

  ‘Have you seen a healer about it?’

  ‘What can a healer do?’

  Her brows puckered delightfully. ‘There are things...’

  ‘Maybe my favourite healer wasn’t around.’ He leant forward. ‘You can have a look later.’

  ‘You are being impossible, Ash. But I will hold you to it. I want to see that leg.’

  Ash absently rubbed it. ‘Some time. Not now.’

  She cocked her head towards Rurik. ‘Your son wants to show you Jaarlshiem.’

  ‘You don’t mind?’

  ‘He has waited a long time to meet you. Now go. I have other things to do.’ Her full lips curved upwards. ‘And I do promise to rest, once I have satisfied myself that everything is how it should be.’

  ‘I expect you to rest whether everything is to your satisfaction or not.’

  Ash shook his head. He had done something right for a change. He was going to figure out a way to get Kara back into his bed and into the marriage. It would be like he had never left. It would be as he had planned back in Viken—his wife and his family waiting for him. He could have everything.

  ‘Come, Far.’ Rurik slipped his hand into Ash’s. ‘You need to see what Mor and I have done to your estate.’

  Ash’s fingers tightened around the slender hand. Far. He had never expected to be called that ever. Not truly. Silently he vowed to be more worthy of that name than his father had been. He would ensure Rurik grew up with the proper guidance, rather than being continually challenged to prove his worth.

  He looked over to where Kara stood discussing something with one of her women. A gentle breeze caused a strand of hair to work itself free. With her slender fingers, she captured it and put it firmly back into place. The very picture of the perfect mother and homemaker.

  He owed her so much. She had made his estate prosper, but more importantly she’d given him a son. Words were inadequate. He knew that she only had to ask and he’d do his best to get anything for her.

  Anything.

  Ash checked his words, swallowing them. Rash statements had led to his current predicament. The one thing she was likely to ask for was the only thing he refused to do—allow her to go. This time he would take his time.

  It came to him. This was not about getting her into his bed as he’d thought back in Sand, but having her in his life. He wanted her as his wife and the mother of his children, not some mythical person, but Kara. He wanted to share his life with her. And it scared him more than when he had lain amongst the corpses. To allow someone to have that sort of power over him.

  Why was it that he only appreciated things when he had lost them?

  Patience. It had served him well when he’d looked to regain his honour. He had to wait when every instinct in his body told him to act. He couldn’t. His entire future was at stake and he knew he wanted this far more than anything else.

  ‘Help me to make the right choice, Kara,’ he whispered. ‘Before either of us does something irrevocable.’

  Chapter Nine

  The shouting alerted Kara that something dreadful was wrong. She had just finished inspecting the kitchens and was about to go to the bath house. Anything to avoid checking up on Ash and Rurik. She owed him that much for saving her boy. What could go wrong with a simple tour? But now she could hear his voice shouting across the yard.

  She picked up her skirts and ran to the graveyard where she was certain the noise had come from. Rurik stood alone outside the family crypt, weeping.

  Kara wrapped her arms about her son. ‘Is something wrong? Where is Ash? Where is your father?’

  ‘My father...’ Rurik gave a convulsive shudder and broke into fresh sobs. ‘I only wanted to show him where his gravestone was and he started shouting at me. Make him go away. I don’t want him here. Far-far said that he was always disappointed in him and that I had to be a better warrior because of it.’

  ‘When did he say that?’

  Rurik scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘Once when we were out here.’

  ‘Did you say something to your father?’

  ‘He didn’t want to see the gravestone Far-far had carved for him! Then he shouted at me because I told him he had to.’

  ‘Go and see Thora. I was just in the kitchen and she might have a treat for you.’ Kara motioned towards the kitchen. She had to hope that Ash hadn’t heard Rurik’s words. She knew how much Ash wanted his father to be proud of him.

  Rurik’s eyes grew big and the crying instantly stopped. ‘I like treats.’

  He raced off. Kara heaved a sigh as no one else appeared. What she had to say to Ash would be said in private. But she renewed her determination that she would keep Rurik safe.

  She went into the graveyard and saw Ash, sitting on the ground with his head in his hands.

  ‘Ash? Why did you shout at Rurik?’

  Ash lifted his head. ‘The boy wanted me to go into the graveyard. He said my father would be ashamed of me. I told him that I couldn’t care less what my father thought.’

  ‘Rurik hates being shouted at.’

  ‘I wasn’t shouting at him precisely, but I don’t want to see my gravestone. Not today. And I don’t care what my father would have wanted! Or how he feels about me! Why break the habit of a lifetime?’

  Kara put her hand on her hip. This had all the signs of a disaster. Rurik and his grandfather used to love going to visit Ash’s gravestone. Rurik had probably been very excited to show his father and then Ash had ruined it. ‘This could have been avoided.’ />
  ‘How?’

  ‘You yelled at Rurik because you were far too stubborn to let me look at your leg earlier. What sort of man shouts at a six-year-old because of what a dead man might think?’

  ‘He needs to accept that men shout or otherwise he will be no good on the battlefield.’

  ‘Will you allow me to see the leg? Now?’ Kara knelt beside him. ‘If you had done so earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have such pain. Rurik has been through enough today without this. You were his new hero. You destroyed him.’

  ‘Forget it, Kara!’ Ash made a cutting motion. ‘Obviously there is nothing I can do which is right in your eyes, so just forget it. What is the point of explaining? And I told you before I know how to deal with my injury. I’ve learnt how. It wasn’t the pain in my leg. I don’t know if I can do this.’

  ‘Why did you bother to come back, Ash? Why won’t you accept any help?’

  ‘Just go!’

  ‘I will go, but maybe you should think about why you came back at all.’

  Ash dropped his head on his knees, rather than watch her walk away. The sheer pain in his leg was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the searing pain in his heart. And there was nothing anyone, not even a skilled healer like Kara, could do to ease that pain.

  He had frightened his son. Rather than being a hero, he had behaved like the snivelling weakling his father always used to say he was. And he knew he couldn’t play at being a hero any more. He couldn’t be the man he wanted to be for Kara and that hurt worse than the pain in his leg.

  Ash pressed his hands to his eyes. He might not be able to be the sort of man his father wanted him to be or even the hero of Kara’s girlish dreams, but he could be a father to Rurik. He could be the sort of father he’d wanted as a child, the proper sort who taught his child skills, rather than shouting at them. And he wasn’t prepared to walk away from Kara. Not yet, not until he’d tasted her lips.

  ‘Go? I have just begun to fight, Kara, but this time, I am fighting for you on my terms, not my father’s.’ Ash wiped his hands on his trousers. ‘And the place to start is looking at my grave.’