‘It matters to me.’
‘Very well.’ Edith put her hands in her lap and clenched them tightly. ‘My late husband did know of the passageway. My father showed him all the hall’s secrets before he died. My father trusted him. It was not until later that Egbert changed. I believe one of the Romans built the passageway before they departed these shores.’
His eyes danced. ‘Not a fairy or the wee folk?’
‘This estate originally belonged to a Roman or so my grandmother used to say. My father used to say that one of them had hidden huge quantities of silver about the land, but he never found it. He reckoned that it was one of his mother’s stories.’
‘Why would Egbert return that way?’
‘I had little expectation of him winning. I was in Eoferwic when it was first overrun. I saw the hordes of Norsemen with their gleaming axes and swords. I know what happened when the Northumbrians attempted to retake Eoferwic. Every building burnt to the ground. Even the great church was scorched. When I last saw the city, the ash still smouldered.’
His cool blue eyes assessed her. Then his face relaxed into a smile. ‘I have it finally! You thought your husband would return with his tail between his legs and didn’t intend to be taken unawares. You should have said something, rather than speaking in riddles.’
Edith shifted uncomfortably. ‘I like to plan for all eventualities.’
‘Your cousin is enjoying herself.’ He nodded towards where Hilda sat in between two Norsemen, effectively changing the subject.
Edith clenched her hands tighter, torn between the desire to move the conversation away from her previous behaviour and her fear of Hilda’s volatility. If she looked closely, she could see signs of forced gaiety. Hilda’s laugh was far too shrill and her gestures extravagant.
‘My cousin enjoys feasting far more than I do. Shall I call her up here so that you may converse with her?’
Edith started to rise, but Brand’s hand went around her forearm, pinning her to the chair. He gave a quick shake of his head and the heavy gold torc about his neck gleamed in the torchlight.
‘I would hardly wish to disturb her pleasure.’
Edith glanced quickly at Hilda. Hilda’s hand inched towards a knife. ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. I had best go and fetch her.’
‘Leave her.’ Brand’s mouth turned down and his tone allowed for no dissent. ‘She knows who holds the power here and is far from stupid.’
‘She is intelligent,’ Edith agreed. ‘But impulsive. Acts and then regrets her actions when they fail to work out as planned.’
‘You were wrong about her wishing to hide in the kitchens. Relax and stop using her as a shield.’ His fingers turned more gently, lightly stroking the inside of her wrist. Little butterflies flew up her arm.
‘All is peaceful now.’ Edith focused on Hilda, rather than on Brand’s fingers. Hilda’s hand relaxed and she laughed up in the Norseman’s face, fluttering her lashes. Edith released her breath.
‘Did you think it wouldn’t be?’
‘Hilda has no love for the Norsemen. They burnt her house and murdered her husband,’ Edith explained, gently pulling away from Brand. Instantly he released her.
‘But she knows who holds the power now and accepts it.’ Brand Bjornson took a long draught of his mead.
‘I hope so. I also hope your men realise that they shouldn’t behave like conquerors and decide my cousin is one of the spoils.’
‘Seeking to tell me what my men should be doing now? You Northumbrians will need to respect us, rather than treating us like overgrown oafs who have no culture or manners. I will have no woman forced under my roof.’
‘An observation.’ Edith reached for her goblet and delicately took a sip. The liquid burnt a pathway down her throat. Drinking the mead helped to keep her thinking from what the night might bring or the potential for disaster from any number of areas. That there had been no serious incident was more from good fortune than anything. ‘Respect has to be earned.’
‘I will keep it under consideration.’ His hand stroked her cheek, turning her head towards him. ‘Where do you bathe?’
‘Bathe?’ Edith blinked. ‘There is the lake for bathing if one wishes. The priest believes that bathing leads to sinful behaviour.’
‘Luckily I am not constrained by such things.’
Edith put her hand on her stomach. Sin. The priest would no doubt consider her behaviour unredeemable. Her immortal soul would be damned for ever, but she had made her decision. ‘And neither am I any longer.’
His smile grew. ‘I’m pleased you understand.’
A shrill scream rent the air. Edith watched in horror as Hilda was pulled into one of the Norseman’s laps. The man roared with laughter. She screamed again and pushed at his chest, but the Norseman roared with more laughter. Edith slammed her fist down on the table. The resounding crash made everyone stop and stare.
‘This is how your men behave?’ Edith said, pointing at the pair. ‘My cousin should be treated with respect.’
Brand shrugged. ‘Hrearek always treats his women well. It is the manner of his wooing she objects to.’
‘Hilda is not his woman!’
‘Yet.’
Edith retained a narrow lead on her temper. How arrogant of Brand to assume that Hilda was an apple ripe for the picking. ‘Until such a time that she readily agrees, she shouldn’t be manhandled.’
‘You are making too much of it. It is a bit of play-acting and fun on both their parts.’ Brand leant closer. ‘Hrearek knows my wishes and will not cross lines. I remain the leader of the felag. All my men obey my orders. Your cousin is safe. Nothing will happen to her if she does not wish it.’
Hilda gave Edith an agonised glance and Edith knew she had mere heartbeats to avoid disaster. Thankfully she had dealt with this situation many times before with Egbert and his men.
Edith stood up and smoothed her skirt. She made sure that her voice could be heard in every part of the hall. ‘If you have finished playing your game, Hilda, I wish to retire and leave the men to their feast.’
The entire hall fell silent. Hilda flushed scarlet. The Norseman made another lunge for Hilda. Hilda pulled back her hand and struck the Norseman, a loud ringing slap. The silence deepened. Hilda’s arm froze in mid-air. The colour drained from her face, recognition of what she’d done dawning far too late. The air hissed with the sound of drawn swords.
‘He pinched my bottom! Next time I will plunge a dagger in his heart.’
‘Hilda, it is time we left the men to their stories and drink. We retire now.’ Edith pressed her hands together and offered up a silent prayer that she could get Hilda out of here without any blood being spilt. ‘You know what feasts can be like. Leave the men to enjoy the mead. It is a particularly fine vintage, one that my father laid down.’
The Norseman who held Hilda started to protest in his native language, but Brand lifted his finger. At Brand’s gesture, the Norseman released her. Hilda twitched her skirt out of his hand.
‘The women wish to retire. Allow them.’ Brand’s voice boomed. ‘Remember your manners. The women are under my protection. You disobey me on this and you will feel the full weight of the felag on your shoulders.’
The man muttered something, but then he let Hilda go.
‘Thank you,’ Edith whispered. Relief washed through her. He understood what had nearly happened and what she’d tried to do. Somehow it made things easier. But she hated being indebted to him.
He put his hand on her sleeve. ‘We are not through, you and I, but I release you for now. Your cousin is volatile. Hrearek is not a man to cross, particularly in this mood.’
‘I didn’t expect it to be finished.’ Edith hated how her stomach trembled, but she had to speak up for Hilda. She wanted to know what sort of man Brand was. ‘I know what I
agreed to. I don’t recall my cousin being offered the same.’
His eyes danced slightly. ‘I only have one woman at a time. It makes for an easier life.’
Edith’s face immediately went hot. Like it or not, she was shackled to this man for the time being. When he discarded her, she had no idea of what would happen to her, but she had to take each day as it came. ‘That is not what I meant. She should be allowed to retire to a convent if she likes, rather than becoming some Norseman’s plaything simply because he has had far too much ale or mead.’
A muscle jumped in his cheek and his scar stood up more sharply from just above the gold torc. ‘You are asking for her? Why? What concern is it of yours? She was your husband’s concubine. You must have hated her for it.’
Edith kept her head up. What sort of women was the Norseman used to? Of course she was concerned! ‘She is my kinswoman. She deserves some respect. I have no wish for her to be passed from man to man like some plaything. I know her story. My marriage to Egbert is none of your concern, but I know what sort of man he was.’
‘I shall take your views into consideration.’ He waved his hand. ‘Since you begged so prettily.’
‘It is most kind of you.’ Edith held out her hand to Hilda, who scampered over to her. Hilda’s cold fingers clasped hers.
‘Where are we going?’ Hilda whispered.
‘Away from here,’ Edith answered in an undertone. ‘Next time remember where we are. You know what nearly happened. I can’t promise to keep you safe if you behave like that.’
Hilda blanched. ‘I’ll...I’ll try.’
‘We walk out of here, slowly. Do not make eye contact with anyone.’
‘I understand.’
Edith started to walk towards the door. All the Norsemen’s eyes were on her and Hilda.
‘Hold!’ Brand’s voice boomed out before she had taken ten paces.
Sweat trickled down her back. What had she done wrong this time? ‘You require something, my lord?’
‘You may retire to a convent, Lady Hilda, if you wish,’ Brand said with a lazy wave of his hand. ‘Lady Edith fears that you might not wish to be here or might find being with my men distasteful.’
Edith stared at him, astonished. He was giving Hilda the option, something Egbert had never done. A tiny flicker of hope burnt within her. Perhaps this Norseman was not the barbarian she’d first considered him to be.
Hilda shifted from foot to foot, ducking her head and not quite meeting Edith’s eye.
‘Hilda, do you understand what you are being offered?’ Edith asked in an undertone. ‘A new start. A place away from these men. Tell them all in a loud voice what you want. Don’t be shy. You are under my protection.’
‘I wish to stay here.’ Hilda suddenly straightened her back and shoulders. Her blonde hair gleamed in the torch light. ‘I refuse to abandon Lady Edith to men such as you. She is a gently reared lady despite what you seem to think. She has chosen to stay and so shall I. But I demand the right to choose my own man, if I desire. I believe the women from the north are allowed that privilege.’
‘Spoken like a woman from the north!’ someone called out.
The hall erupted with laughter.
Edith blinked in surprise. She never knew that Hilda felt that way. She had always considered that Hilda only stayed because she had no choice or because she enjoyed the power she had from being Egbert’s mistress. And she knew precisely how much Hilda feared the Norsemen.
‘I’m honoured, Hilda, truly I am,’ she muttered. ‘Are you certain you know what you are doing?’
‘You are doing this for everyone. I heard the talk in the kitchen of how it came about,’ Hilda said in a low tone. ‘I couldn’t leave you with these men. Your bravery has given me courage. I was so wrong and selfish earlier to doubt you. Forgive my temper, cousin. Allow me to make sure that you are the best concubine. You are the only hope we have of civilising this brute. I see that now.’
Edith gave Hilda’s hand a squeeze. Somehow it did make a huge difference to know that Hilda was willing to stay. A pang of guilt washed through her. Perhaps she’d done Hilda a disservice in thinking her selfish. Right now she had an ally and she was awfully short of people who’d help her.
‘We shall have to look after each other, then.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Besides, I don’t think either of us would enjoy a nunnery.’
Hilda gave a small shiver. ‘No. I’m no nun given to praying all day. Can you imagine?’
‘It is settled, then,’ Brand said. ‘Both of you women are staying of your own free will. And you, Lady Hilda, shall choose the man who shares your bed. You are right—in Norway, our women are allowed to choose. In Jorvik, they are also allowed to choose.’
Edith dropped a curtsy in Brand’s direction. She had misjudged him. Once he had recognised the danger, he took steps. ‘We shall retire now. I bid you adieu,’ she said loudly.
‘And you go to keep my bed warm.’ He, too, lifted his voice, she noted. ‘I will join you in due course.’
Edith swallowed hard. He’d said the words she’d feared all throughout the feast, the true reason why everything had tasted of ash. Unlike Hilda, she’d already made her choice. ‘I have my own bed. It is where my husband...’
Her voice trailed away under his hard gaze.
‘Not when you are my concubine. Or did you forget that little morsel? You sleep where and when I want you to.’
His gaze was clearly fixed on her lips, and against her will, Edith found herself remembering the kiss they’d shared earlier. Her mouth tingled as if he had just kissed her. She rubbed her hand against it, banishing the thought. He wouldn’t do such a thing in front of his men.
‘Where would you like me?’ She forced her trembling legs to curtsy.
A wide smile split his face as coarse laughter resounded from the entire hall.
‘My bedchamber will suffice...for now.’ He paused and his hot gaze travelled all over her. Edith frantically wished that she hadn’t drunk all that mead. It was making her head spin. She wanted to sit down again and have the room stop spinning, but that wasn’t an option.
‘Is that an order?’ She tilted her chin upwards.
‘Yes.’ The word hissed from his lips. ‘I trust you to obey it.’
‘Very well, I shall use the lord’s bedchamber instead of my own.’ Edith hated how the blood pounded in her ears and the way the room slowly spun around. Somehow she had to do this—find a way to please Brand. It was the only way to ensure no one would get hurt.
‘Wait.’
‘Have I done something wrong?’
He reached her in two steps and pulled her against his hard body. Her body collided with his muscle. Unlike Egbert, there was no soft layer of fat. He was a warrior through and through. Edith swallowed hard—what had she been thinking about in provoking him?
‘You need this.’ His mouth swooped down, capturing hers.
He tasted of honey-sweet mead and something indefinably male and him. The kiss seared and branded her as his.
He put her from him amid loud catcalls and cheers. Edith knew her face burnt. She wiped her hand across her aching mouth. ‘What was that for? Uncalled for and unasked for!’
She was furious with him and with her body for wanting more. She crossed her arms over her suddenly aching breasts.
His finger traced a burning line down her cheek. ‘A taste of what is to come, Lady Edith, and you will find the experience enjoyable. I can guarantee you that.’
Edith picked up her skirts and ran as hearty male laughter rang out behind her and Hilda. More than anything that kiss demonstrated how little control over her body she actually had.
Chapter Five
‘Thank you, Edith,’ Hilda said as she brushed Edith’s hair, turning it as smooth as the raven’s wing. ‘Y
ou were marvellous back there. Truly formidable. You saved my life. That Norseman would have...’
‘I couldn’t have you slaughtered before my eyes.’ Edith gave a hiccupping laugh. Ever since they had left the hall, Hilda had stuck close to her side, insisting on helping her to undress, even going and getting some scent to dab on her wrists. Edith allowed it, but she couldn’t help thinking that a true lady would have had more control. She silently tried to remember what her mother had said on the subject when she told her that she’d have to endure her husband’s touch, but she’d have children to hold at the end.
Edith bit her lip. She wasn’t going to think about children or how Egbert’s well-chosen punch to her stomach, followed by a swift kick when she refused to allow him to beat one of the serving girls for spilling his drink ended her dream of being a mother. She’d miscarried a beautiful boy. Ever after she could not bear his touch. Thankfully he had never tried to get in her bed again.
Now, his last mistress regarded her with an intent expression.
‘Do you have something to say, Hilda?’ she said, expecting another tirade about the Norsemen and their brutish ways.
‘I was very foolish, I know that now. I thought...I thought it might be the same as with Egbert, but it wasn’t.’
‘These Norsemen are of a different breed.’ Edith took the brush from Hilda’s hand and gave her hair a few last vigorous strokes.
‘You can say that again. The scar on Brand Bjornson’s neck! It goes right round. I’m sure it is true what they say about his mother.’ Hilda shuddered. ‘He appears too wild, but he can control his men.’
‘Warriors have all sorts of scars. By all accounts Brand Bjornson has been fighting for ever.’ Edith put the brush down. ‘But it did give me pause. I do know the rumours of how well he performed in battle. They say he is the main reason why the rebellion failed.’
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