Marrying Her Viking Enemy. Harper George St.
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made the skin on his neck tighten uncomfortably. ‘You are offering me up as husband.’
Her cheeks reddened, but she didn’t back down from her stance. ‘You have to admit that many would say you are a desirable husband. Your word among the Danes is second only to Vidar’s. You are known as a great warrior with great wealth.’
‘It’s true,’ Rolfe said, mulling over her words and making Vidar laugh out loud.
‘It’s good to see you’re still humble, Brother.’
Ignoring him, Rolfe said, ‘I can see how this would be helpful for harmony.’ It would not, however, be helpful for his peace of mind. He tried not to think of the woman he’d nearly married back home, but her face came to mind anyway. Hilde had been beautiful. He’d convinced himself that she was kind and generous, everything he’d thought he’d wanted in a wife. He’d learned too late—after her thievery—that her beautiful outside had hidden a traitorous core. She’d only used him for her own gain.
Lady Gwendolyn’s smile brightened, encouraged by his words. ‘I resisted my father’s way of thinking, but I understand now how marriage to further peace is best for everyone.’ Vidar smiled at her, his eyes full of gentleness and admiration.
Rolfe wasn’t entirely surprised by the plan and it certainly spoke to that odd longing for a family he’d felt upon his homecoming last night, but he didn’t relish the idea of marrying. The amount of trust inherent in such a union was not something he was comfortable with. Of its own volition, his gaze landed on Elswyth. The same short-handled axe from last night was hooked on the belt around her waist, leading him to wonder if she wielded it as well as the bow and arrow.
Glancing back to Lady Gwendolyn and then Vidar, he could practically feel the noose of matrimony tightening around his neck. He wouldn’t shirk his duty, but neither would he welcome it. His only choice was to make certain of the only thing he could control. ‘I would choose my own wife.’
‘Of course,’ Lady Gwendolyn was quick to acquiesce. In a softer voice she added, ‘But you would have to choose someone beneficial to uniting our people.’
He gave a nod, his gaze once again shifting over to Elswyth of its own volition.
The victorious glance that passed between Vidar and his wife wasn’t lost on him. They had already discussed his marriage, it seemed.
‘Thank you, Rolfe,’ Vidar said. ‘You’ll be well-rewarded for your duty. With things to the north unsettled, it goes without saying that sooner rather than later would be best.’
‘Aevir will be called to marry as well?’ Rolfe and Vidar had known Aevir for several years. He was a renowned warrior who had fought in the south as the battle had been waged for East Anglia. He’d gained a reputation there for his fearlessness in battle and had gone on to fight for Jarl Eirik for the past couple of years. Yesterday when he’d ridden in with Rolfe had been the first time he’d set foot in Alvey. Rolfe knew the man had vowed never to settle down because of some trauma from his past, so he lived a life that was never settled, always moving from place to place looking for the next fight. Rolfe liked him and respected him, but he found it hard to believe the man was ready for marriage.
‘For the right woman it could be well worth it.’ Aevir shrugged. ‘But it’s too early in the day to speak of women.’
‘The right woman?’ Rolfe asked, unable to believe his ears. Aevir was actually considering marriage.
Still smiling, Aevir shrugged. ‘The right lands and riches to be more specific.’
That sounded more like what Rolfe had expected. Still, the idea of marriage without affection was hard for him to accept. He had pledged his loyalty to Jarl Vidar and would do it if his duty called for it, but it wasn’t what he would choose for himself. Aevir had no such pledge holding him here. ‘And what of the woman herself? Her face?’ Her heart. Rolfe didn’t say that part, but he could not imagine sharing his home and future children with a woman who was cruel or less than honourable. Someone like Hilde.
‘What does a face matter in the dark of night?’ Aevir laughed, but when he glanced away there was a hollowness in his eyes. It was the same empty resolve he brought to battle that made him a great warrior. Rolfe didn’t think it would work so well in marriage. ‘Her lands and wealth will suit me much better than a fine face.’
Rolfe shook his head, but he hadn’t expected anything else from Aevir. The man would sell his hand like he sold his sword, it seemed. He wouldn’t be the first man to do so. Once more he found Elswyth across the field. This time he watched her arrow fly and stifled a smile at her hoot of triumph when her aim proved true. She fascinated him and their banter the night before had come easily and naturally. She wasn’t afraid to challenge him. He had no idea if she’d be suitable based on Lady Gwendolyn’s requirements, but she was the only one who had stirred an interest in him in a while.
‘Do you need to find your nursemaid to check your wound?’ Aevir teased, following Rolfe’s line of sight.
‘I’d forgotten how insufferable you were,’ Rolfe growled, which resulted in Aevir’s bark of laughter.
Vidar had walked away to speak with his wife, but stepped up to them now, his gaze roaming across the field to where his wife’s charges practised. ‘Godric will arrive in about a fortnight and I hope to negotiate his blessing for a marriage. I’ve already allotted the silver needed.’
Elswyth had just landed another arrow in the target while a girl he assumed to be her sister cheered her on. Aevir’s face shone with interest as he watched her, and Rolfe felt the hair on the back of his head bristle in warning. Aevir’s interest in Elswyth alone would have raised his ire, but to have Godric’s name spoken in regard to her did not bode well for Rolfe’s intentions.
‘The sisters will be available?’ Aevir tipped his head towards Elswyth and her sister.
‘Aye, but only one of them need marry... Elswyth is the eldest. I’d prefer it if one of you marry her. The match will go far to ease our troubles in Banford,’ Vidar added in a low voice.
Rolfe froze, his hand clenched tight around the hilt of his sparring sword. The girl was Godric’s daughter. When she’d said she was from the north, she meant Banford. She meant the very village he’d put a torch to only two days ago. The very village that seemed to turn out traitors one after the next.
‘You would give the traitor silver and allow him to keep his lands?’ asked Aevir.
Vidar’s brow furrowed. ‘Traitor may be harsh. Remember that we only have rumours that Godric’s been in contact with the Scot King. We’ve seen no evidence. We do know that it will be in our favour to tie him to Alvey with his daughter’s hand. We need him on our side.’
The very idea of giving tolerance to the man who was likely at the centre of every conspiracy with the Scots didn’t sit right with Rolfe. ‘You can’t deny that Durwin’s presence with the Scots is strong evidence. Everyone knows how close he and his brother were to Godric.’ He knew in his gut that the connection was there. Rewarding Godric’s tricks with a fortuitous marriage for his daughter would not solve their problems. Indeed, such a marriage could be disastrous for all parties involved.
‘Aye, it’s a strong indication, but not evidence. We’ll see how he feels soon. He’ll arrive in a fortnight and give his permission for Elswyth’s hand unless he’d prefer to insult his Lady,’ said Vidar.
‘Is that why his daughters are here?’ Rolfe asked. Now that he knew who Elswyth was he was shocked to find Godric’s daughters within the confines of Alvey. Shocked because if the man had truly gone against Alvey, his daughters would have been locked within her walls and at the mercy of the very Danes he claimed to despise. The man had to be a fool and she had to be a spy. There would be no other reason for Godric to allow their presence here.
‘They’re distant relations of Gwendolyn’s on her mother’s side. Gwendolyn hoped to gain the girls’ co-operation by inviting them here. I’d hoped