The Viking Takes a Knight

by Sandra Hill

  She hesitated, then nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  He growled. “Why won’t you marry me?”

  “’Tis for the best.”

  “Do you love me?”

  Oh, that was unfair. She refused to answer.

  “You told me that you loved me. Is your love so fair weathered that it cannot last through a few minor problems?”

  “Minor problems!”

  He shrugged. “Serious problems, then. But you gave me no leeway to work things out.”

  “You had all the leeway you wanted until you went for Joanna.”

  Ingrith had to sit down on the bed. She was starting to feel weak. Unfortunately, John chose to sit next to her.

  Taking her hand in his, he asked once again, “Will you marry me, Ingrith?”

  She shook her head, fighting the tears that were already leaking from her eyes. He wiped them away with the pad of his thumb. “I cannot, John, and you know why. You were the one who said that if we wed, even if we practiced the safe method of sex…you know, the spilling outside the body business…that eventually, the way we go at each other, we would get careless. We already have, if you have not already realized what happened yesterday on the stairs.”

  “I know. I knew when it happened.”

  “What?”

  Before she could realize what he was about, he lifted her onto his lap and then leaned back against the headboard with his legs extended. Now, she half sat, half laid atop him.

  “Tell me where you were going, sweetling,” he urged.

  “How can I answer when you are touching me?” she griped.

  He had been caressing her back and kissing the top of her hair, which he had already unplaited and finger combed over her shoulders.

  “Sorry. I cannot help myself. You are too tempting.”

  “Not so tempting pretty soon,” she murmured.

  “What?”

  “John, you have to stop this.”

  “Touching you? I cannot stop.”

  “Nay, not touching me. I mean, yea, you must stop that. But you must stop pursuing me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Why? Why? You are not going to let this go, are you?”

  He shook his head and tried to kiss her, but she ducked her head.

  “This is bloody hell why,” she snapped, taking his palm and laying it across her belly.

  He looked confused. “You cannot marry me because you have eaten a few too many of your own honey oatcakes?”

  “Aaarrgh! I am pregnant, you idiot.”

  She could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he slowly assimilated what she’d said.

  “Let me see if I understand. You are pregnant with my child. I’m guessing three months along.”

  “Three and a half.”

  He made that growling noise again. “You were harrying off on dangerous seas in a longboat for bloody damn Norsemandy.”

  “The seas are not dangerous this time of the year. Usually.”

  Growling again. “You have been avoiding me like I am a leper.”

  “With good reason.”

  “Reason be damned.”

  “You don’t have to swear.”

  “Damn, damn, damn! All of which points to the fact you ne’er intended to tell me. Do I have this right?”

  She nodded hesitantly. It sounded halfbrained when he related it like that.

  Suddenly he shoved her off his lap, almost dumping her on the floor. Stomping about the room, he muttered to himself, occasionally shooting her a cutting glare.

  “It all comes back to trust again with you, doesn’t it, Ingrith?”

  “That is so unfair. You told me yourself that we could never marry because eventually, if we continued having sex like rabbits, you would forget to withdraw. And that is exactly what happened yesterday. Can you not see, I was protecting you.”

  “So, you did it all for love of me?”

  Tears were streaming down her face now, but he appeared untouched by her pain. She nodded. “I know how difficult it is for you to accept passing on your possibly tainted blood to a child. I wanted to spare you.”

  “Instead, you would be the one always on the alert for signs in our child.”

  She homed in with pleasure on the way he said “our” child. “I would not care. Honestly. Mayhap it is naive of me, but I believe I could love the madness out of him…or her.”

  “And you do not think I could do the same?”

  “Well…you said…I mean…” She was flustered and not sure how to answer.

  “Things change, Ingrith,” he said tiredly.

  “People change. You should have given me a chance to decide for myself. I kept telling you, ever since I got here, that there were things I needed to discuss with you.” An idea seemed to come unbidden to him. “You thought I would force you to abort my child. Oh, God! You did, didn’t you? What kind of monster do you think I am?”

  She tried to rise from the bed, but her knees were shaky, and she sat back on the edge. Her head hurt, and she felt weary to the soul. “I need to lie down,” she said.

  Immediately solicitous, he helped her into the bed and covered her with a light blanket. “Are you all right? Do I need to get a midwife or one of your sisters?”

  She shook her head. “I just get tired easily.”

  “And stress does not help,” he said ruefully.

  She nodded. “What do we do now?”

  “We get married. Sooner than I planned.”

  “Oh, John! I hate that I am trapping you like this.”

  “Ingrith, you forget. I asked you to marry me afore I knew about the babe.”

  He was at the door, about to leave, when what she wanted…what she needed…was for him to crawl into the small bed with her and hold her. Just hold her.

  Instead, he pointed a finger at her and snarled, “Do not think of leaving Stoneheim, let alone this bedchamber. I will chase you to the ends of the earth.”

  She gulped, the tears coming fast and furious again.

  “And do not delude your foolish self that I am angry over the baby. I am angry over your lack of trust in me. I am angry that your love is so shallow. I am angry that I was a hairsbreadth away from losing all that is important to me. I am just bloody damn angry.”

  On those words, he left her alone and miserable. And tired. So very tired.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A man can only be pushed so far…

  John was so worked up he had to let out steam. So, he let himself be talked into swordplay exercises with Rafn, who was half a head taller and several stones heavier than he was. But anger fueled him, and he nigh beat the Viking to the ground.

  “So, wouldst like to unburden yourself, Saxon?” Rafn asked as they relaxed over a cup of ale.

  “Ingrith is pregnant.”

  “Congratulations.” Rafn didn’t seem surprised, though he must be.

  “And she had no intention of telling me.”

  “Uh-oh!”

  “I do not understand women.”

  “Really? I imagine your Christian Adam said the same thing to the snake in the Garden of Eden afore eating the forbidden apple. A wise man once told me there are two ways to understand a woman, and neither of them works.”

  “I am going to be a father,” he said with a wide grin.

  “Yea, you are,” Rafn said, clapping him across the shoulders.

  “I ne’er thought I would be, or could be,” he said, and explained all that had happened with his father and with Ingrith.

  “Seems to me that you and Ingrith just need to talk.”

  “Which is what I’ve been trying to do since I got here.”

  Rafn nodded.

  “She says that she didn’t tell me because she loves me.”

  “Typical woman illogic,” Rafn opined. “Wait ’til she is farther in her pregnancy and waddles around like a duck the size of a warhorse, then asks if her rump is too big. Bit of advice: Do not answer.
”

  “What did you say?” Vana had come up behind them and stood with her hands on her wide hips afore slapping Rafn over the head with a dusting cloth.

  He grabbed for her and forced her to sit on his lap. “Good news, Vana. Ingrith is pregnant.”

  “Rafn!” John and Vana both said at the same time, he because he did not want the news to spread in this fashion, and Vana because she was surprised.

  “Oh, I cannot wait to plan the wedding. There will be a wedding, won’t there?” She narrowed her eyes at John in an adorable threatening fashion, like a puppy threatening a boar.

  “There will definitely be a wedding. Soon.”

  “Not too soon,” Vana said. “There is much to be planned. Guests to invite. Food, drink, games, gifts.”

  “Uh, I was thinking we could just stand before a priest, or whoever Ingrith would want to administer the vows. No big fuss!”

  Rafn just laughed while Vana glared at him.

  “A wedding. Whose wedding?” King Thorvald asked in passing.

  John put his face in his hands. He was not ready for this. He wanted to nurture his hurt and anger a bit longer.

  “Ingrith is pregnant,” Vana announced.

  The old king’s face went florid. “You got my little girl with child, you spineless Saxon cur. We should beat him to a pulp, Rafn.”

  “He already tried to beat me to a pulp,” Rafn said with a grin, rubbing at his sore chin.

  “When is the wedding?” Thorvald asked, sitting down next to John on the bench, way too close.

  “As soon as possible,” he said.

  “Not for at least a month,” Vana said.

  “Is she willing?” the king wanted to know.

  “Not very.”

  “Does not matter.” The king laughed, raising a hand to a passing maid to give him a cup of ale. “Seems you took my advice to handle your courtship in the Viking manner.”

  Seems he did, though he had not known it at the time.

  “Take the maid, seduce her later,” Thorvald explained to Ragn and Vana, the former amused, the latter not amused.

  “The maid declines.”

  They all looked up to see Ingrith standing in the doorway, glaring at each of them in turn.

  “Now, daughter—” King Thorvald began.

  She raised a hand. “I am not going to be rushed into marriage.”

  “Rushed?” the king roared. “You are almost thirty and one years old. More like dragging your feet, if you ask me. I am thinking ’tis time for a rip-roaring Viking style wedding here at Stoneheim. Enough ale to sink a longboat. Dancing. Singing. Wrestling. Horse racing. Head butting.”

  “Don’t forget lygisogur,” Rafn offered unhelpfully. To John he explained, “Lying stories. We Norsemen do like to tell tall sagas.”

  “How soon can your mother and stepfather get here?” King Thorvald asked John. “We must sit down and negotiate the marriage terms. Ingrith may be long in the tooth, but she still carries a vast dowry. Best you be thinking about your morgen gifu, as well. The morning-gift you provide for Ingrith is not just to show how well pleased you are with her performance. ’Tis part of the marriage settlements.”

  “Whatever you say,” John agreed.

  Ingrith glared at him.

  “What? You want me to disagree with your father?” John said.

  “I want you to go away.”

  “Nay, you do not, Ingrith. You love me.”

  Ingrith let out a hiss of displeasure. “You should discuss these things with me first.”

  John studied her closely. Her rest had apparently rejuvenated her. The old snapping Ingrith was back. Good. He relished a good fight, especially in his present mood. He had had more than enough of the games she’d been playing, making a fool of him. From the time she’d first arrived at Hawk’s Lair with the orphans in tow, she had been attempting to control their relationship. Thought she could lead him about like a bull with a ring in its nose. Well, he had news for her. This bull was breaking loose.

  “Dost finally want to talk, Ingrith?” he asked. The menace in his voice should have forewarned her. Standing, he walked over, picked her up by the waist, and tossed her over his shoulder. “Then let us go talk.”

  As he stomped off to find a private room, with Ingrith screeching and kicking, he heard Thorvald say, “Are you sure he’s not a Viking?

  Sometimes a man’s just gotta be a man…

  “Put me down, you big oaf.”

  Ingrith slapped and kicked and called him names she’d never spoken aloud before. To no avail. He would not release her until they had reached his guest bedchamber and then he only let her drop to her feet, keeping a hold on her around her waist.

  She shoved away and walked to the other side of the small room. He used that opportunity to close and lock the door.

  “All right, so you want to talk,” she said. “Talk.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. We will talk later.”

  She tilted her head to the side.

  “Take off your garments, Ingrith. I would see my bride’s new body.”

  She gasped at his order. “I am not your bride yet. Mayhap I will never be. And, nay, I will not take off my garments.”

  “You either take them off, or I tear them off. Your choice.”

  “Here,” she said, raising her gown to show a pair of linen small clothes. “You may see my belly.”

  He laughed. “How generous of you! Take off the damn clothes. All of them.”

  She thought about balking, but knew when the battle was lost. Removing her apron and gunna, she turned away from him to lower the thigh-high small breeches she’d taken to wearing since her pregnancy. Her nether parts got cool here in the North, and, though it probably made no sense, she felt as if she was keeping her baby warm.

  When she was done, he said, “Turn.” His voice was raspy, as if he were overcome with emotion.

  She did.

  As he circled her, he talked, “My mother and stepfather came to Hawk’s Lair. I learned things about my father I ne’er knew.”

  Despite her embarrassment at being naked and examined thoroughly, she was curious. “About his insanity?”

  “’Twould seem that the insanity was not inbred.” He was lifting her breasts from underneath, as if weighing the difference in them. Then he sank to his knees in front of her, touching her belly with reverence. “I would not have known you were pregnant from this alone, Ingrith. ’Tis just a small bump.” He glanced up at her and smiled…a smile so enticing she almost swooned. “Our baby.”

  He kissed her stomach and then tongue-kissed her down lower. Just a fleeting flick of his tongue, but enough that her legs folded and she joined him on her knees.

  “Tell me more about your father,” she said to keep herself from melting into a puddle of arousal.

  “He was tortured mercilessly since he was a small child. Unspeakable things were done to him. I know this because I went to visit my uncle Elwinus, a monk, who told me of the early years.”

  Even as he talked, he was kissing her shoulders, the tops of her breasts, her fingertips.

  “Stop it,” she demanded. “How can you talk and do that at the same time? I cannot concentrate.”

  He chuckled and rose to his feet, taking her with him.

  Once he’d laid her on the bed and settled himself on his side leaning over her, he continued, “So, ’twould seem that I can wed and have children after all.”

  Unable to wait for more prolonged foresport, he was already sliding into her when he made that statement.

  “Oh. Oh. Oh.” She made puffing sounds trying to delay her peaking. “Say that again.”

  “We can wed and have children.” He pressed hot kisses against her mouth and moved ever so slowly in and out of her spasming channel. “I love the way you do that, heartling.”

  “Do what?” she gasped out. He was touching her breasts, breathing into her ear, and plunging into her in such a way that each downstroke touched a throbbing ache in her slick
folds.

  “Fist me in welcome.”

  She realized then what he had told her. Important news. And not about the fisting. She slapped his shoulder. “Why did you not tell me as soon as you got here?”

  “As if you would let me!” He laughed against her neck, and she felt the ripples all through her body, down to his cock that rippled inside of her. A laugh tup, she decided. She liked it.

  “Will you marry me, Ingrith?” he asked as his strokes became shorter and harder.

  “Do I have a choice?” She had peaked twice already and could feel another approaching.

  “None whatsoever.” He smiled at her.

  “Have I told you what your smile does to me?”

  “Tell me again.”

  When his excitement grew to such a pitch that she could feel it even inside her body, he slammed into her one last time, declaring, “I love you, Ingrith.” And he spilled his seed where it was meant to be.

  Later, as she stroked his back and kissed his neck, she said, “I love you, too, John. Forever.”

  “What would you like for a morgen gifu, heartling?” he asked, after they’d made love a second time. “I figure we have already had our morning after, several times, and I am well pleased.”

  “I know exactly what I want,” she said, raising herself to lean over him, pressing her fingertips to his kiss-swollen lips, “and it is not jewels or land. Not even precious spices.”

  He arched his brows at her. “What shall I give you, then?”

  “A rose garden.”

  Time goes slow when you’re not having fun…

  It took four more sennights before they could exchange vows, to Ingrith’s chagrin because of her growing bump and to John’s chagrin because he’d been forbidden to tup Ingrith until after the wedding ceremony under threat of having a special body part lopped off. And, of course, it had to be on a Friday, or Frigg’s Day, as if it mattered what day of the week it was!

  “I will look like a ship’s prow by then,” Ingrith complained to him in one of the rare moments they’d managed to be alone.

  “It will only be a few more days,” he said, “and a person could hardly tell you are breeding.”

  “Liar!” she said, punching him in the arm. “I am almost four and a half months pregnant, you idiot.”