by Tualla, Kris
Not until you marry me, he answered.
Regin stiffened. Here was the crucial point. For a moment she wavered, unsure if she could give him up again and survive the loss. Tears pricked her eyes and her decision was made. She would live or die by his response.
Ask me.
He lowered himself to one knee and motioned: Will you marry me?
The assembled crowd quieted as realization rippled from the front pew to the back. Row by row they sank onto the benches and stared, nudging each other and whispering behind their hands.
"Is he asking for your hand?" Jarl blurted.
Regin nodded. She thought she would puke her breakfast remains onto the church floor, bland or not. There was only one acceptable answer.
I didn't hear you.
Brander's brow lowered in waves and his already intense stare darkened: Please don't.
Regin shook her head. Her challenge was immutable and his response was clearly lacking. There was no other answer to give except: I'm sorry, Brand.
She turned her back on the beautiful man who held her world in his gaze and her life in his touch. Determined, she faced the clergyman. "I've lost my place, Father. Where were we?"
Jarl looked from her to Brander and back, his disbelief clear. "That's all you have to say? Where were we?"
"What would you have me say?" she snapped. Her nerves were taught as bowstrings and if he said one more thing to her in that tone she would let loose the arrows of her frustration in his precise direction.
"Is she marrying Jarl?" Lord Balder boomed. "She's not marrying Brander is she?"
"Pappa hush!" Olvir reprimanded.
"Don't tell me what to do!"
Brander grabbed her arm. The contact burned through her like lightning through a stormy sky.
She whirled and yanked from his grip. "What?" she shouted.
I love you, Regin.
Her hands jabbed at him: How much?
His soulful expression was the definition of sincerity: With my whole heart.
"Prove it," she demanded.
Brander swung one arm over the entranced crowd, now silent and attentive: Don't ask this.
"I have to. I must be able to trust you," she pleaded. "You lied to me, Brander."
I know. But I haven't spoken...
"Try."
I can't.
"Then I can't marry you." She turned -- again -- to the wide-eyed priest and groom. "Go on, Father."
"You cannot be serious," Jarl growled. "This is a travesty!"
Regin pinned him with the most severe look she could manage. "I'm prepared to fulfill the contract. Are you?"
Before he could respond, an odd sound rent the tense atmosphere and silenced everyone in the building. Regin's heart pounded in her throat, threatening to choke her. Pinpoints of black crowded her vision. She spun slowly, wondering if she was imagining the sound. It was like nothing she ever heard.
Brander stood but a few feet from her. His eyes had gone dark gray under a thunderous brow. His lips parted and halting words emerged, reluctant to leave their safe cocoon of silence. They were deep and rough in tone, with their hard edges sanded away making them indistinct.
Regin understood every one.
"I... love... you... Regin." He pulled a deep inhalation through his nose and blew out through rounded lips. "Will... you... marry... me?"
It was music. More beautiful than anything she could hear or ever imagine. Heaven's own angels must be jealous. A sob of disbelief collapsed her chest and stole her voice.
Yes, she signaled. Yes yes yes yes!
He smiled then. His eyes went to blue, his teeth white as clouds. Everything around her lightened.
"And now the sun is envious," she murmured.
"What sort of answer is that?" Jarl demanded.
Regin began to laugh. "I said yes, Jarl!"
She reached for Brander. He cloaked her in his strapping embrace. She lifted her face and he claimed her mouth in a kiss far too passionate for church. How could she have considered living without him? Right now she couldn't even stand without him.
"No!" Jarl hollered. He wedged his fists between them and pried them apart. "What about Kildahlshus? You owe five thousand dalers!"
"Five thousand one hundred and fifty," Regin corrected. She turned to Brander. "Do you want to tell them? Or shall I?"
He grinned: You.
Lord Balder was on his feet again, practically purple with rage. "Tell us what? What is going on?"
Regin wanted to slow down the telling. Brander's family deserved the agony of waiting after all they put him through since he went deaf. "As it turns out, there is only one creditor."
Jarl spoke as if she was a child, "I think you're confused, Regin. The payment goes to one man -- Mister Gulbrandsen -- and he'll disperse the payments to the men who hold the markers."
"Well, that's partially true," she conceded. "The part you don't know is that one man has bought all the markers."
"One man?"
"That's correct. So all the payment goes to one man."
"Even if that's true, you still don't have the money," Jarl huffed. "You still need to sell Kildahlshus."
"No." She smiled sweetly. "I don't."
Jarl shook his head in frustration. "And why would you think that? Has your circumstance changed?"
"Yes. It seems it has."
"How?"
"I'm marrying the man who holds all the markers."
Jarl frowned. "You are marrying me after all?"
"No, not you Jarl."
This was the moment Regin had constructed.
She gave the room a slow, sultry and satisfied grin. Olvir's jaw dropped, but transformed into a triumphant smile as he figured it out. The gray-eyed woman hovered in the back pew obviously afraid to believe what was happening. When Regin's gaze landed on Brander, her grin widened until her face hurt.
"I'm marrying Brander."
The collective intake of breath in the room left it airless and made her momentarily light headed.
"Brander holds the markers?" Jarl paled. "How is that possible?"
"Where did he get the money?" his father shouted.
"He earned it," Regin answered simply. Then she leaned toward Brander's elderly father, raising her voice to make certain he could understand her. "Because he wanted an estate of his own since he was denied yours!"
The old man's mouth flapped in mute indignation. Brander pushed past Jarl to stand beside her in front of the priest.
He gestured: Will you marry us?
Regin translated.
"I-I don't have the correct documents ready," he stammered. He scratched his head and squinted at Regin. "So you're changing husbands?"
She nodded. "I am. Might you perform the sacrament now and allow us to sign the documents tomorrow?"
"It won't be legal until the documents are signed. You do understand that?" he protested.
Brander looked down at her. His stare smoldered with intensity and sparked a fire low in her belly.
I'm going to love you tonight either way, he motioned.
The fire blazed nearly consuming her on the spot.
And I'll let you, she answered.
Brander faced the priest and used his rough, long-neglected voice, nailing his claim on her heart for all eternity.
"Marry... us."
*****
Brander watched the clergyman's lips and nodded his assent when asked pertinent questions. When Regin was addressed he watched her, disbelieving what he was doing and with whom he was doing it.
Brander's entire body quivered the way it had after his last fight. With knuckles split and one eye swelling shut, he stood over the unconscious man he was bringing to justice. At that time he pulled long breaths through his nose and shook life back into his limbs. It didn't seem appropriate to do that now. Though given the choice between fighting bare handed or using his voice like today, he'd take another fist fight in a blink.
He nodded his answer to another question and turned to Re
gin.
She was radiant. Her impossibly blue eyes swam under a waterfall that continually spilled its boundaries and turned her lashes into pointed black spires. He reached inside his doublet and handed her a kerchief. She grinned up at him and accepted the offering, though her tears seemed unstoppable.
Her pale skin was flawless and her cheeks glowed like spring roses. Dark and coiled with ribbons, her hair gleamed in the candlelight. He lifted it from her shoulder and pushed it back, savoring the silky feel of it in his fingers.
She kept biting her lips to corral her smile; they plumped and reddened under the assault. He ached to kiss them now and wondered how many more questions needed to be asked and agreed to before he would be allowed.
At last she faced him. Her smile broke free and lit up his world. She tilted her face upward and gave him a tiny nod. Now.
He circled her with his arms and bent his lips to hers. Her eyes closed. Her mouth opened. He tasted her sweetness and felt her eagerness. Her breath warmed his cheek in little bursts. He was taken outside himself in a way that he never experienced before.
A tap on his arm brought him back into the church and he ended the kiss. A quick glance around proved the effect of his passionate display on the guests. And the smoky look in his bride's eyes confirmed that this was only the beginning.
His bride.
Brander gripped her arm and led her quickly down the aisle and out the doorway. He untied and his chestnut stallion and vaulted into the saddle. Then he reached down to Regin.
I don't have my cloak, she gestured.
He patted his own garment and held out his hand. She clasped it and he lifted her into his lap. He pulled his cloak around her and tucked her against him. His chin rested on top of her head. He held her close with one arm and guided his mount with the other as he kicked the huge animal to a gallop.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Hansen Hall
October 26, 1720
There was no way to talk as they covered the mile to Hansen Hall so Brander settled for embracing his wife against his chest and inhaling the scent of her. He stiffened in spite of himself and wondered if she sensed his arousal. Though the coming night still held dangers for him, it seemed one part of his body was unconcerned.
Inside the courtyard at Hansen Hall the stable boy ran out to meet them. His eyes widened to saucers when he saw Brander with Lady Regin. He felt vibrations in her back as she spoke to the boy. The youngster's demeanor eased. He waited for Brander to lower Regin to the ground and dismount, then took the reins with a satisfied grin.
Inside the Great Hall multiple tables were arranged and the aromas of various foods overwhelmed his senses. He pulled Regin toward the fire and sat down beside her. He waved for wine and two cups were brought straightaway. Again they were met with confused expressions and again Regin explained what had happened.
When they were alone, she turned to him and asked, "Why did we travel in such a rush?"
Brander retrieved his wallet; this conversation would be beyond her abilities to understand his motions.
Because I wanted to talk to you alone before we are descended upon. I cannot know my family's mood.
She nodded. "When you left here, where did you go?"
Niels and I went as far as the center of Arendal before he stopped and refused to go further.
She leaned back a little. "Why?"
Niels would not take another step until I told him why we were leaving so suddenly.
A little color spread over her cheeks. "You told him I asked you to speak?"
Yes.
"What did he say?" she asked looking cautious.
What indeed. When Niels finished asking his questions and spoke his mind, Brander felt utterly alone in the world.
He said that if I was foolish enough to let you go over such as thing as that, then he was coming back to Hansen Hall, marrying Marthe, and spending the rest of his life in your service.
Regin's hand covered her mouth and her eyes darkened. She looked frightened. He pulled her hand away so he could see if she spoke.
"Did you hit him?"
A laugh squeezed his chest and he grinned.
No!
She slumped in relief and her features eased.
We stayed at an inn and we worked things out.
"What things?"
The hardest part came next. Brander resolved to be completely honest with Regin -- he never again wanted to give her reason to say that he wasn't -- but that meant letting her see the hard emotions that nearly destroyed any chance at love between them.
Please understand, I was angry at you for asking this of me. Angrier than I have ever been in my life, even at my father. Because I didn't understand why you thought it was necessary.
Regin opened her mouth but he put up a hand to stop her from speaking. She pressed her lips in a line and nodded.
I thought you were being contrary and treating my inability to speak as if it were merely a child's stubbornness. I didn't believe that you truly understood, and that was why you asked me to use my voice.
He looked up to see how she was taking his words thus far. She looked concerned, but calm. She nodded again, so he returned to his paper.
I told Niels what you said about trusting me, and how I knew all of your secrets but you didn't think you knew any of mine. Then he asked me what was I really afraid of.
Regin's hand rested lightly on his. Warmth of the contact flowed through his skin and relaxed his fingers. He kissed her softly on the mouth, then continued writing.
I was afraid of losing you if I spoke. But I would lose you if I didn't. He paused and drew a breath. In either case, I could not think of losing you.
She lifted his chin. "I'm sorry."
He patted her hand in tactile forgiveness.
Niels and I practiced together until I could make the words clearly enough to be understood. My throat hurt badly. I was afraid I would get a headache but, thank God, I didn't.
She looked stricken. "How could you not hate me?"
I cannot. I love you. He dropped the graphite stick and took her face between his hands. He hoped his kiss spoke for him, and he applied himself to its meaning.
There is one other matter we must discuss, he wrote when finally they broke apart. This night we are not legally wed, though the sacrament has been celebrated. I know I said I would love you tonight, but...?
Regin was wearing the silver Viking ring he recovered for her. She pulled it off her finger and slid it onto his. She spoke again and he watched her mouth.
"We stood in the church and spoke our vows before God. We are married in His eyes," she said. "The documents only satisfy mere men."
The realization of what that night would bring shot his core with the heat of passion and the ice of fear. He wanted more than anything to strip Regin of her clothing and lie naked in her arms, to taste her skin and touch her curves and explore her hidden places. But would his utterances disgust her?
Before he could think of what to say, Regin whirled toward the door. He could see shadows that heralded the crowd arriving from the church, but that was expected.
What he didn't expect was Jarl to walk in with a woman on his arm.
*****
When Regin slipped the Viking ring on her new husband's finger, his gaze shifted color. Gray concern, blue surprise, green passion. A world of reactions to her deed, and all of them slithered through her gut in a very pleasant way.
A rumble of footfalls in the entry pulled her attention from Brander. She watched the door, waiting for Jarl to enter. She intended to apologize for stopping their wedding; it was the least she could do. And she imagined he would have a question or two to ask her. She stood and faced the door to the Great Hall, steeling herself for his appearance.
When he entered the room the gray-eyed woman was clinging tightly to his arm. Her cheeks were an odd combination of flushed and sunken. Her stare bounced until it landed on Regin and stuck there. Regin moved toward the couple. She
heard Brander rise behind her and follow. Jarl glared down his nose at her.
"I'm sorry, Jarl," she began but he cut her off.
"For what?"
"For stopping our wedding. I know you expected to marry today." She shrugged apologetically. "And my actions prevented that. I hope you'll forgive me."
"You are mistaken, Lady Regin. I did marry today," Jarl retorted. "May I present my wife, Lady Freydis Hansen?"
"You married her at last?" Regin exclaimed.
Jarl's brow lowered. "What do you mean by that?"
"What do I mean?" She shot a glance at Brander. He shrugged and bit back his grin. She turned to the newly minted Lady Hansen whose face had flushed alarmingly. She somehow managed to look horrified and grateful at the same time.
"Don't you understand the question?" Jarl pressed.
"I understand it quite well, Lord Jarl." Regin shifted her stance, irritated at the man's game. "What I mean is this: your heir is now legitimate and your daughter will grow to womanhood under the protection of her father!"
Jarl's jaw dropped and his eyes widened at her words.
"Jarl, I knew it at first look," Regin declared. "I doubt that anyone who's lived in Arendal for any amount of time could claim ignorance of their paternity."
The man had the decency to close his mouth and blush. He gave his bride a quelling glance.
Regin laid her hand on his arm. "And as for me, I'm spared the fury of a town that would have made me a pariah for usurping her place at your side."
Lady Hansen relaxed and her eyes met Regin's. Their corners crinkled in a lipless smile of thanks.
Jarl, however, was visibly angry. He straightened and addressed Brander. "It's a blessing, brother, that you are deaf."
Brander looked confused and spread his palms in question.
Jarl lifted one eyebrow. "You won't have to listen to her endless nagging and most unwifely opinions!" he sneered.
Regin swung an arm back but Brander grabbed her wrist before she could slap him. Jarl whirled and pulled his bride toward the high table. Regin rounded on Brander, ready for a fight until she saw the amusement in his eyes. Her arm went limp and he let go.
"Oh, dear. I embarrass you," she moaned.
