Liv gave her middle sister a look of pure disbelief. “You never told me that.”
Elli waved a hand. “It all worked out, didn’t it? And the kidnapping part only lasted for a few hours. Then I realized I wanted to come. We reached an agreement. From then on, Hauk was merely my escort.”
“I don’t know if I like the way you say ‘escort.”’
Elli sighed. “Livvy, it’s in the past. Let it go.”
“But—” Liv cut herself off as she saw the impatient expressions on the faces of both of her sisters. “Okay, okay. So you’re saying Father wanted Finn to…abduct me? To somehow force me to marry him?” Both of her sisters were nodding. “Oh, come on. People don’t do things like that anymore. It’s barbaric.”
“By our standards, maybe,” Elli said. “But to a Gullandrian, your refusal to marry the father of your child is heartless in the extreme, a barbarism far beyond mere kidnapping.”
Liv stared at Elli. “You almost sound as if you feel the same way.”
Elli’s blue eyes were so sad. “If you only knew what Hauk lived through as a child—what it was like for him, the ugly names they called him, the ostracism he suffered, simply because his mother refused to marry his father.”
Liv swallowed. “Really bad, huh?”
“Terrible. There was plenty of physical abuse, of course. Many of the other children felt it was one-hundred-percent okay to do everything from throwing rocks at him, to ganging up on him and beating him bloody. But he says getting beat up was by no means the worst of it—and neither was the frequent name-calling. The worst was the constant awareness that he was not and never would be the equal of any other person born of married parents, no matter how low, mean or stupid those legitimate kids might be. He was a fitz and as a fitz, he was a rung or two down the ladder from a true human being.”
“That’s hideous,” said Liv.
“Yes,” said Elli, “it is.”
Both of her sisters were watching her expectantly. Liv looked from one to the other. “You both think I should do it, that I should marry Finn.”
Brit didn’t even hesitate. “Under the circumstances, absolutely.” Elli showed her support with a quick, firm nod. Brit went on, “Look. Even if you don’t think the marriage will last, you’re nuts for the guy. I can see it in your eyes every time you say his name. It’s not as if there’s anyone else you’re in love with or anything. And if it doesn’t work out, well, you stay married at least until the baby is born and then you go your separate ways. Divorce is never a great option for anyone. But in your situation, I’d say the possibility of it isn’t near as awful as leaving Finn to rot in Tarngalla.”
Elli was sitting forward, eager to make a point or two of her own. “And you are of Gullandrian descent. Your father is king here.”
Brit chimed in, indicating Elli, “Your sister lives here.”
Elli continued. “You might want to visit again, now and then. If you don’t marry Finn, I guarantee you’ll never want to bring your child here. From what Hauk has told me, things are changing. Being a fitz isn’t as bad as it used be. But it’s bad enough. Even today, it would be an act of callous cruelty to bring your illegitimate child here, to put a little one through the intolerance he’d have to endure if you did.”
The scary thing was, Liv found she agreed with them. “You two make it seem as if there’s no other choice.”
Brit said, “Hey. If you see some other option we haven’t thought of—please. Share.”
Liv had nothing to share. Her father had done what he’d set out to do. She was boxed in tight. The only way out was to become Finn’s wife.
Liv spoke with her father first thing the next morning. An hour later, she went to see Finn.
He was sitting at the table in the front room of his cell when the guard ushered her in. He closed the book in front of him and leaned back in his chair, head tipped to the side, regarding her with an expression both distant and assessing.
Her heart raced and her palms felt damp with nervousness. And also with longing. She’d been pondering, through the sleepless night just past, how very much she’d missed him in the days since he’d left her in California. Somehow, seeing him again yesterday had brought it sharply home to her. She wanted his arms around her. She wanted him back the way he’d always been before, charming and brilliant, flirting relentlessly and making the teasing fun of male-female interaction seem like high art. She wanted to see the gleam in those amber eyes again, the old gleam of humor and heat.
Now, as she looked close, she saw that his eyes did gleam. But it wasn’t the same. Now it was…dangerous. Feral. Those eyes warned her away even as her own longing pulled her on.
Behind her, the key turned in the lock. The guard’s trudging footsteps moved away from the thick door. “Well,” she said, her voice so bright it verged on brittle, “you look much better.”
“Yes.” He sketched an elegant shrug. “Not an hour ago, they led me to the showers and presented me with a change of clothes. And now, here I am, all cleaned up, at Her Royal Highness’s pleasure.” Somehow he made getting cleaned up for her sound reprehensible.
“Oh, Finn. Why are you so…angry with me? I did come all this way. I’m here. I’ll do whatever I can for you.”
He remained unmoved. “What you can do for me is to go home. I thought I made that clear when we spoke yesterday.”
She dared to step closer, to reach for the other chair. “Do you mind? May I sit down?”
His gaze moved over her, burning where it touched. “Is there some way I can stop you?”
“I’ll take that as rhetorical.” She forced a smile, pulled out the chair and sat.
Finn watched her. She hadn’t a clue what he was thinking. He seemed to be seething as he slouched in his chair and looked her up and down. At the same time, there was something frankly sexual in the way he stared at her. As if he wanted her desperately and despised himself for it. As if he couldn’t decide whether to order her out again or grab her and carry her into the darkness beyond the arch on the side wall.
A hot shiver ran through her. She wished he would do it—grab her, make love to her. She missed his touch so very much. And if he was cruel, so what? She could take it.
She could take anything, if only she could somehow break through this awful, angry wall of silence between them.
He spoke, too softly. “You have something to say to me?”
She gulped. “Yes. I’ve talked with my father.”
“Ah.”
“He won’t back down. Marry me, and you’re a free man. Otherwise, you might never get out of here.”
He waved a hand lazily, the movement in direct contradiction to the focused intent in his eyes. “He’ll change his mind. Once you go back to America, he’ll have to admit that it accomplishes nothing to keep me here.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think.”
“It does if I’m right. I’d bet you ten years’ income from my trust fund that if I don’t marry you, you’ll be here for a very long time.”
One side of his beautiful mouth lifted in a joyless approximation of a smile and he indicated the stack of books and the tablet and pens on the table in front of him. “I’ll catch up on my reading. Work on my memoirs. And besides, it’s not as if I have anything all that important to do, anyway.”
“Oh, please. What about your investments? Don’t you have to manage them?”
“Don’t concern yourself.”
“But I do concern myself.” For that, she got another shrug. She tried again. “And what about your sister and your grandfather? They must be worried sick about you.”
“They’ll manage. They always have.”
Oh, she would never make him see reason on this. She said it straight out. “Please. Won’t you marry me?”
“No.”
Liv shut her eyes and counted to ten.
Then she tried again. “Finn. I’ve thought it over. I’ve decided I was w
rong before. And you were right. Marriage is the best way, for us. For our baby. I regret that I told you no so many times. I hope you can forgive me for that. But I want to marry you now. I truly do.”
He chuckled, the sound without humor. “Very touching. And also a lie.”
She sat forward and let her urgency show. “No. It’s not a lie. It’s the only way. Please. Won’t you do it? Won’t you be my husband?”
He neither moved nor spoke. The bleak room seemed to echo with emptiness.
She rushed to fill it. “I’ve talked it over at length with my infuriating father and with my sisters. I’ve…reevaluated the whole situation.”
“Have you?” He spoke coolly, distantly.
“Oh, Finn. Why won’t you admit it? Whatever you say to the contrary, you and I both know that you’re not getting out of here any time soon—not unless you marry me.”
“So be it.”
She glared at him for several seconds. It had zero effect. He gazed back at her steadily, his face a blank.
It wasn’t easy, but somehow she managed not to start shouting at him. She asked with measured care, “How am I going to get through to you?”
“You’re not. Go home.”
It was too much. She threw her head back and let out a shriek of pure frustration at his pointless pigheadedness. “Oh, this is ridiculous.” She jumped to her feet and rounded on him. “Even if you’ve decided for some reason to play it disgustingly noble and rot away in here for years, the least you can do is think of the baby. You know it’s not fair to the baby. He—or she—will be Gullandrian every bit as much as he’ll be an American. If we aren’t married when he’s born, he’ll be an outcast in his father’s land. I can’t do that, to my baby, to our baby. It just isn’t right.”
For a moment, she was certain he was going to rise and walk away, to disappear into the dim alcove beyond the arch again and leave her standing there wondering what to do now. But then he spoke. “I thought you said it didn’t matter, that he would be American and in America, children are raised all the time by—”
She didn’t let him finish. “I know what I said. And I realize now I was wrong.”
“No.” He shook his head slowly, his gaze on the cold gray stone floor. “You were right. I’m sure the baby will do well whether his parents are married or not—in America.”
She sat and leaned forward, straining toward him, wishing he would lift his head, meet her eyes. “But not here. Here, he’d be an outcast.”
“That didn’t seem to matter much to you before.”
“At the time we spoke of it, I didn’t really even believe I was pregnant. Now that I’ve had a few days to think about it, now I’ve accepted in my heart that I really am having a baby, I see things in a different light. Oh, Finn, if we don’t marry, it’s not going to be…viable to let the baby come here. Do you want that, really? Do you want your child never to know that precious Balmarran of yours? Never to see the land of his father’s birth?”
He lifted his head at last. His gaze probed hers. “I never wanted that. But you’ve been so…unyielding. So determined that the baby would be born American, that his status here would never matter, as he was never coming here.”
“I was wrong. I know that now. What more can I say except please? Will you marry me? Will you give our child his father’s name?”
He stared at her for a long time. “You’re certain? It’s what you want?”
“I am. It is.”
“To marry me.”
She nodded.
He asked, “And then?” She glanced away. He knew her answer and said it for her. “You’ll go back to America.”
“You could…come with me.”
His gaze caught hers, held it. “You could stay here, for a while—come with me, see Balmarran…”
She shook her head. In the end, he had his life and she had hers. It wasn’t going to be a marriage in the usual sense of the word. “Finn, I’m sorry. I have my internship to finish. I can’t afford much more time away, or I’ll have to sacrifice the units. And then there’s the fall semester coming up….”
For the first time, his eyes softened. “It’s all right. I understand. You have your ambitions. And I want you to have them.”
Her heart broke a little then, because she believed him. He didn’t want to take her dreams away. She bit back the tears and whispered, “Thank you.”
He reached across then, at last. “When?”
She put her hand in his, glorying at the warmth as his fingers closed around hers. “Friday,” she said. Gullandrians, if possible, always married on Friday, as Friday was Frigg’s day and Frigg was the goddess of hearth and home.
Finn nodded. “It is fitting. On Friday, then.”
Chapter Fifteen
The wedding was a simple affair. The guest list for the exchange of vows could be counted on two hands: the bride’s sisters and their father, the king; Hauk and Medwyn; Eveline and Balder Danelaw.
In the Viking way, the short ceremony took place outside, in the parkland below the palace. Liv wore a simple long pale blue dress and a traditional bridal crown woven of straw and wheat and garlanded with flowers. She and Finn exchanged swords as Viking custom decreed and then, on the ends of those swords, they traded rings. Following the Viking ceremony, a Lutheran minister presided over a swift exchange of Christian vows.
With both sets of vows behind them, the small wedding party retired to the palace where a feast had been set out and more guests—princes and ladies currently in residence—joined the celebration. There were the rituals of strength and of fertility and a shared first loving cup of ale. There was dancing and a series of poetic recitations by two of Gullandria’s most prominent skalds.
Liv made a special point, as the evening progressed, to steal a few private moments with Finn’s grandfather and then with his sister. The conversation with Balder went quite well, she thought. He was a large, gentle man with a surprisingly full head of white hair and a trim gray beard. He enfolded her in a bear hug and whispered in a gruff voice, “Welcome to our family.”
Eveline was another story. A beauty with long black hair and flashing blue eyes, her full mouth was set in a rebellious scowl.
“Grandfather’s a softhearted fool,” Finn’s sister announced when Liv came and stood by her and tried to share a few civil sentences. “But not me. I know His Majesty threw Finn into Tarngalla and I know it was your fault. And as soon as you marry him, you’re leaving him, going back to America. What kind of a marriage is that, anyway, if you live there and he lives here?”
Liv hardly knew where to begin. “Eveline, I’m sorry you’re upset, but really, what Finn and I will do with our lives is between the two of us.”
“You’re sorry?” The girl made a small, disgusted noise in her throat. “I don’t believe that. You’re going and he’s staying and that makes no sense at all. He tries to pretend it’s all perfectly fine with him, but I know my own brother. It’s not fine. He’s not happy, and he always used to be happy. What did you do to him?”
That one caught Liv completely off guard. “Nothing. I didn’t—”
“Oh, you needn’t lie to me. I see right through you. And I don’t like what I see. Soon I’ll be off to train with the kvina soldars. Maybe I’ll come looking for you in America someday.”
Liv had collected herself by then. She asked coolly, “Now, why does that sound like a warning?”
“Because when I find you, I’ll cut your heart out and eat it raw.”
Nothing would be gained, Liv reminded herself, if she grabbed this little witch around her pretty neck and squeezed until her manners improved. And Finn was coming toward them from across the room. “Here comes your brother now. Maybe you’d like to tell him about your grisly plans for me.”
Eveline stuck out her chin and yanked her shoulders back. “Tell him yourself.”
Liv leaned toward the girl and spoke for her ears alone. “I think not. I think this is his wedding day and a loving sister
wouldn’t ruin it by making an ugly scene.”
Eveline pursed up her pretty mouth all the tighter. “I’m not saying a word.” She turned and waited for her brother.
Finn closed in on them, grinning. “My two favorite women in all the world.” He put his arm around his sister. “Having a good time, Evie?”
“Wonderful.” She slid him a sullen look.
He shot a rueful glance Liv’s way. “Isn’t she a charmer?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
He gave his sister’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze and reached for his bride. “Come. Dance with me.”
Liv went into his arms, thinking with a stab of mingled joy and regret how very good it felt to be there. Too soon, she’d be thousands of miles away from him. He whirled her off across the floor and Eveline slipped from her line of sight. When again she had a clear view of the place where she’d stood with his sister, the black-haired beauty was gone.
At midnight, Elli and Brit and several of the younger ladies in attendance led Liv upstairs. They took her to the large, beautifully appointed suite where she’d been installed earlier that day.
The four-poster bed in the master bedroom was wide and deep, covered in shimmering layers of white silk, the mahogany posts turned to look like coiling dragon tails, with intricately carved dragonhead finials crowning each one.
The women helped her to change to a white silk nightgown and then put her in the bed. The men brought Finn up soon after.
Liv remembered the laughter and bawdy exchanges when Elli and Hauk were bedded only three weeks before. This was a much more subdued proceeding, everything quieter, more sedate. Maybe it was the hasty nature of the wedding, maybe everyone knew that this union was one of necessity rather than one of true choice and thus they behaved more seriously, not that it really mattered to Liv. She liked it this way, minus the suggestive remarks and silly sexual banter. Within minutes, the men and the ladies were bowing from the room, leaving Finn fully dressed and standing near the door.
In the quiet, bride and groom regarded each other. Liv’s heart was racing and her skin felt too warm. She put her hands against her cheeks.
Prince and Future... Dad? Page 15
