The Warrior's Runaway Wife

by Denise Lynn

Avelyn accepted the captain’s help in climbing to the upper deck of the ship. His surliness hadn’t yet fully subsided—he’d not been the least bit pleased when she’d boarded so hastily at the last possible second.

  And less pleased when she’d frantically interrupted his orders to the men.

  By the time she’d explained who she was and shoved the documents with King David’s seal prominent beneath the string holding the rolled parchments closed into his hands, the man’s face had taken on a frightening shade of red.

  Now that he’d issued new orders to his men and led her to the deck above, he’d stepped back, leaving her to face her husband alone.

  She pulled the borrowed cloak tighter around her body to ward off the chill of the breeze whipping across the water. Her stomach churned, but she wasn’t certain if that was from the sickening bobbing of the vessel, from knowing Elrik was going to be livid, or fear that her half-brother had already set what plans he had into motion.

  When she caught a glimpse of her husband’s glare, she gripped the rail with both hands. His eyes blazed and even from this distance she could see that his jaw was clenched. Samuel, standing at his side, looked amused. The lopsided grin curling up one corner of the man’s mouth gave her hope that maybe Osbert had yet to make an appearance—perhaps she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion and he wasn’t among the men in Elrik’s company.

  As the ship she was on pulled alongside her husband’s, he raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to say something.

  Avelyn swallowed and scanned the men standing on the deck of his ship. To her relief she didn’t see Osbert. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t aboard one of the other ships.

  She turned her attention back to Elrik, uncertain how to begin.

  Finally, he broke the silence, shouting, ‘Is there something you require, Lady Avelyn?’

  Oh, yes, as she’d expected, he was angry. It was evident in the furrowed brow, the hard line of his jaw and the dark tone in his voice. She couldn’t help but wonder if his touch would still be gentle.

  She swallowed, fighting back the urge to be fearful and called out, ‘We need to make land.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘My Lord Roul, I must speak to you.’ Suddenly realising that was exactly what she was doing now, she added, ‘Privately.’

  He shook his head at her response and glanced down at the water, before looking back up at her to ask, ‘Have you sprouted wings?’

  His nonsensical question wiped away any lingering remnants of fear. He was not as angry as he’d appeared. Granted, it was likely he was very unhappy with her actions, but unhappy or disappointed was a far cry from angry.

  She held out her arms and made a point to check beneath each one before lowering them and answering, ‘No.’

  Samuel looked as if he were ready to burst from laughter, but he kept his mouth firmly closed. Elrik only shook his head and motioned the captain of the ship she’d boarded forward. ‘Move your vessel behind mine. We will dock some time tomorrow.’

  Tomorrow? Avelyn shook her head. ‘No. My lord, this is important.’

  ‘It is too dangerous to swim. So, unless you can fly from that ship to this one, you are going to have to wait.’

  She leaned forward to look over the rail of her ship and then to his. It didn’t appear that far. She’d learned to swim many years ago as a child. However, that had been in a pond, where her feet could touch the bottom, not in a bottomless ocean. And she hadn’t been dressed in a heavy tunic that would likely take on a great deal of weight when wet.

  ‘Avelyn!’

  His roar made the man standing next to her flinch. She ceased trying to judge the distance and looked up at her husband.

  His hands were tightly clenched on the rail before him. Even Samuel’s humour had been replaced with wide-eyed shock as he, too, grasped the rail.

  The captain by her side had also grabbed the rail. He muttered, ‘Are you daft?’

  Elrik pointed at her. She wasn’t certain, but it was possible that his hand shook. Before she could decide, he shouted, ‘Woman! You will stay aboard that ship until we dock. Do you understand me?’

  His disappointment had bloomed into rage. He appeared angry enough that she wasn’t at all certain if he touched her right this moment that there would be much gentleness involved.

  ‘Answer me!’

  ‘Yes,’ she shouted back, adding, ‘my lord.’

  Elrik’s stare shifted to the still-shaken man next to her. ‘She is your responsibility. See to it well. Use a rope if need be.’

  He spun around, climbed down the ladder and disappeared beneath the forecastle, leaving Samuel to shake his head at her before also climbing down to follow Elrik.

  The captain took hold of her arm. ‘My lady, will I need to tie you to the mast like his lordship suggested, or will you refrain from jumping into the water until after you have left my ship?’

  She shrugged off his hold. ‘I can swim.’

  ‘That does not answer my question.’

  ‘I was simply trying to judge the distance. I wasn’t going to jump overboard.’

  ‘Your answer?’

  Avelyn glared at him. ‘No, you do not need to tie me to the mast. Yes, I will refrain from jumping into the water.’

  * * *

  Elrik dragged a still-shaking hand down his face. This was why he hadn’t wanted her along in the first place. He worried about her, more than he found to his liking.

  If anything happened to her, King Óláfr and Lord Brandr would not rest until he was planted beneath the cold ground.

  He sat heavily on a small stool, barely acknowledging Samuel when he entered the makeshift chamber.

  Samuel asked, ‘You aren’t going to leave her on that ship, are you?’

  Elrik nodded. ‘Unless you have a way to transfer her to this one safely, while at sea, yes. She wanted to sneak aboard one of my ships without my knowledge and, after she’d been told to wait for my brothers to escort her to Roul, she can spend the night with the other women.’

  ‘Elrik—’

  ‘No.’ He cut Samuel off with a short wave of a hand. ‘None of the options to get her aboard this ship are safe. I am certainly not going to let her swim. Nor am I going to risk bridging a plank between the ships on choppy water. So, she will stay put. And it is in your best interest to not tell me how to handle my wife.’

  Without another word, his man turned and left.

  And this was the other reason he hadn’t wanted her along. His men were too enamoured with his wife. Jealousy wasn’t the issue. He didn’t worry that she found them more to her liking, or that either one of them would be disloyal in that manner.

  No, the difficulty was that both of them, Samuel and Fulke, had this odd impulsive idea that they were like her older brothers and needed to take care of her, to guard her. That was all well and good, until, like now, when they disagreed with his handling of her or got the notion that they needed to guard her against him. Had he known what King David had been planning, he never would have let her get so friendly with the two of them while they’d been on the road to Carlisle.

  As it was, the damage was done. And now that the opportunity for time and distance to lessen their overprotectiveness was gone, he needed somehow to make them understand that even though she was his wife, she was no different than any other woman under his protection. Or he needed to find a way to put their need to protect her to good use. Either way, she was his responsibility, not theirs—it was a responsibility he was not willing to relinquish, not even to them.

  * * *

  Avelyn pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and pushed harder into the gap between two full barrels of fresh water. She hoped that as long as the barrels remained full they would continue to provide the stable support that she so desperately needed.

  Her stomach churned, making her realise wh
y King David had given her a good-sized pouch of sugared ginger—he’d obviously known the motion of the boat would not settle well with her stomach. Even she was aware that ginger would settle a stomach distress. She’d simply not known that being on the water would cause her to need the sliced root.

  She popped another small piece in her mouth and sucked on it slowly as she watched the sun start to set.

  Right at this moment, she was truly grateful that he’d left her alone. She’d expected him to be outraged and knew that she would have to find a way to deal with it on the small confines of a ship. But doing so right now, with the roiling of her stomach, would be more than she could endure.

  Four women caught her attention as they approached. The smallest of the group asked, ‘You are Lord Roul’s wife?’

  ‘That I am.’

  ‘Then why are you travelling on this ship instead of on his?’

  Avelyn shrugged, then replied, ‘It was a last-minute decision. I sought adventure and this voyage seemed a good idea.’ It wasn’t exactly a lie. It was decided at the last possible minute and she was certain it would prove to be quite an adventure—of sorts.

  ‘No. There isn’t a lord alive who would permit his lady wife to do something so impulsive. You are his mistress, aren’t you?’

  The other women laughed as they all sat down around her. The oldest reached out and patted her knee. ‘Honey, it is fine, there is no need to lie for our benefit. We understand since it comes with the profession.’

  Profession? Ah, Avelyn realised that once again she’d found herself amidst a group of women who plied their trade on their backs.

  It didn’t matter to her if they believed the truth or not. She wasn’t going to be aboard this ship long enough for it to make a difference. So, instead of trying to convince them she was Lady Roul, she only nodded before focusing on the wood deck beneath her.

  All four women chuckled. One said, ‘She’s too shy to have been at this very long.’

  Another chimed in, ‘Fear not, there are only six of us, seven counting you and five ships full of men. You’ll be able to quickly get all the experience you need.’

  One woman sighed heavily, before saying, ‘Just thinking of all those manly bodies makes me near to fainting.’

  ‘I hear tell their commander is quite a fine-looking man.’

  ‘You mean King David’s Wolf?’

  ‘I could never share his bed. I’d be too fearful.’

  ‘Oh, not me. I like them a little dangerous.’

  Avelyn’s head spun, trying to keep up with the conversation. Her focus bounced from one to another and back to the other so fast, she feared her bag didn’t hold enough ginger.

  The oldest woman leaned forward and looked from side to side at the other women. ‘Hush. This is the commander’s woman. She can tell us how he likes to pleasure a lady.’

  One of the younger women whined in a way that made Avelyn’s eyes widen. What was she going to tell them? That his kiss robbed her of the ability to think? Or that his touch made her feel safe, while causing her to long for something she didn’t quite comprehend? Somehow, she didn’t think that was going to satisfy their curiosity.

  Another one of the women leaned forward to ask, ‘Does he use his mouth?’

  Avelyn frowned. ‘Well, yes, when he kisses me.’

  The women giggled, then explained what they’d meant. Fire raced along her cheeks and down her neck. Her reaction only had the women laughing harder.

  ‘She hasn’t been with him long enough yet.’

  ‘Oh, honey, we have plenty of time to teach you everything you’ll need to know.’

  She smiled weakly, nodded and softly said, ‘I would welcome the learning.’

  While she did want to hear what they could tell her, what she really wanted to do was get up and leave before she perished from embarrassment. But where would she go?

  One of the women frowned, asking, ‘Did I not just hear that the King’s Wolf was recently wed?’

  The oldest waved away the question. ‘What does being married have to do with anything? Men don’t care who the willing body belongs to as long as it’ll gain them release.’

  No. Avelyn would never believe that her husband was like her father. Never. She couldn’t let herself think that.

  * * *

  Elrik jerked awake and wiped a hand across his sweat-soaked brow. This had been the fourth time this night he’d been awakened by the kind of dreams he’d not had since he’d been a young man.

  Erotic dreams, not of a faceless woman, or the cook’s daughter, but of his wife. He slammed his fist down on to his pallet. Damn her for invading every minute of his day and every second of his night.

  He got out of bed, tugged on a tunic and walked barefoot on to the deck to lean his forearms on the side and stare out at the dark, moonlit water. And hoped that maybe this night, the brisk air would cool his heated body.

  ‘Trouble sleeping?’ Samuel asked as he joined him.

  ‘No. Not at all. I’m still fast asleep. You are only dreaming.’

  ‘Why don’t you just make landfall and go get your bride?’

  As if he hadn’t thought of doing that countless times already. ‘Where would you suggest we make landfall?’

  The ships were loaded. They were already low enough in the water that if they sailed into shallow waters they could tear the hull, or become stuck if they ran on to a sandbar. No. They would wait until they could dock.

  ‘Raging at the crew and the men hasn’t done much good. Maybe a good marital row will clear your head.’

  ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I need to do in front of the crew and men.’

  Samuel sighed. ‘Elrik, it hasn’t even been a full day and the men are already talking. You are only letting their gossip grow unfettered by any amount of truth.’

  Even though he didn’t want to know, he asked, ‘What are they saying?’

  ‘The obvious. You have set her aside. The marriage isn’t yet binding. She’s travelling with the camp followers because she’s a whore.’ At Elrik’s flinch, he asked, ‘Is that enough, or would you like to hear more?’

  ‘That’s more than enough. You can stop.’

  ‘You do realise that Fulke and I can only do so much to keep their gossip in check?’

  Of course he knew that. He was also well aware that keeping the gossip in check was his job, not theirs.

  He didn’t want to drag her aboard his ship and make a spectacle out of both of them. That wasn’t a way to gain any amount of respect for him or his wife. It wasn’t a way to set any sort of example for the new men under his command.

  But now that she was his, and she was so close at hand, he wanted her.

  ‘Elrik, she may have disobeyed you, but she isn’t a bad woman. She’s kind. And even you have to admit that she’s brave, albeit foolhardy.’

  He snorted. ‘She is a bit foolish.’

  ‘How are you not full of yourself just knowing that a woman as lovely as Lady Avelyn, wanted so desperately to be with you that she followed you, into possible danger, against your orders?’

  ‘I hadn’t given that any thought. The whole idea of leaving her behind was to keep her safe and to keep her from distracting me. Besides, King David wouldn’t have let her leave Carlisle without good reason.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Samuel shrugged. ‘While your original idea made perfect sense, even if it was a bit misguided, the fact is, she’s here for whatever reason. Short of having her thrown overboard, I don’t see how you can change that.’

  Elrik straightened. Enough was enough of this conversation. ‘I’ve already given orders to make for the first wharf available to us. In the morning, repeat that order to the captain. I’m going back to bed.’

  Samuel nodded. ‘I’ll see that it’s done.’

  Chapter Eleven

 
A long, high-pitched scream tore Avelyn from her sleep. She opened her eyes, then squinted against the brightness of the rising sun. Amazed that she’d finally slept so well, she tossed her cloak aside and rose to find the source of the screaming.

  It didn’t take long as there were a dozen women gathered around another woman lying on the deck in obvious agony.

  ‘What is wrong?’ she asked a woman at the outside of the circle.

  ‘She’s in labour and it does not seem to be going well.’

  Why would a woman that far along take the risk of making this voyage? What was she thinking? What had her husband been thinking to allow such a foolish move?

  Avelyn pushed through the growing crowd. ‘Is anyone here a midwife?’

  One girl answered, ‘The cook has done this before, but she is too sick to leave her pallet.’

  Avelyn dug into her pouch of ginger and gave the girl a handful. ‘Take these to her and tell her we need her help, sick or not.’

  The labouring woman screamed again and it was all Avelyn could do not to cover her ears at the pain-filled, frightened sound.

  She spotted the captain, took a deep breath and marched towards him, knowing what she had to do.

  Stopping right in front of him, she said, ‘We need to contact Elrik. That woman needs help.’

  He looked down his nose at her, curled one side of his mouth and snorted before saying, ‘If the woman doesn’t survive, she can have a burial at sea, matters not. We will make port when his lordship orders us to.’

  Avelyn stiffened her spine, raised her chin and glared up at the man, pleased to see him take a step back and widen his eyes. ‘You know full well that I am Lady Roul. In my husband’s absence I am giving you an order that you will follow.’ In a milder tone, she added, ‘Or I will simply jump into the water. That should get his attention.’

  There was now another crowd gathering around her and the captain.

  The man sputtered, but he turned to shout at the men, ‘Man the oars and put your backs into it. Come alongside Lord Elrik’s ship.’ He pointed at a younger man, ordering, ‘Hoist that red flag—again.’

  The woman screamed again, making Avelyn shudder. ‘Just hurry, please.’