Paying the Viking's Price. Michelle Styles
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drama of this morning was beyond her. ‘I do try, but my mind wanders and the tread tangles. I prefer writing and reading.’
‘Unlike the woman who just left for the kitchen.’ His eyes flashed with barely concealed contempt. ‘I do not believe she makes a good scullery maid. Her dress is far too fine and her accent refined.’
Edith’s breath stopped in her lungs. He’d seen Hilda and her embroidered gown and guessed. Who wouldn’t? There was just something about the way Hilda moved. She attracted men like honeycomb attract the flies.
‘She was my late husband’s mistress,’ she admitted, dipping her head as her stomach clenched. Had she inadvertently delivered her cousin to another man’s bed? She felt sick. ‘Your men unnerved her. She had a traumatic time two summers ago and saw things no one, especially not a gently bred lady, should see. I thought it was for the best if she went to the kitchen and helped out there until I found something better for her.’
‘And you allow this former mistress a place here? Give her charity? Is that how you take your revenge?’ Something akin to disgust flared in his eyes, but was quickly masked.
‘Where else could she go? She is my distant kinswoman. I have a duty towards her.’ Edith pinched the bridge of her nose. The last thing she wanted to explain was how guilty and powerless she’d felt when Egbert made Hilda his mistress as if some of it was her fault. She’d promised Hilda that she’d be safe. But Egbert had seduced Hilda, promising her the moon. Before he’d left, she’d started to experience Hilda’s tantrums at being ignored and Egbert’s bad temper.
‘Not many women would be as generous as you.’
‘Hilda had little choice when my husband’s eye lighted upon her.’ Edith shrugged and hoped that he wouldn’t guess the pain she’d suffered because of it. The marriage had been one of duty. She had no right to expect anything, but she’d hoped that a sort of friendship might emerge. It never did. And she wasn’t cold or unfeeling as Egbert had claimed. She did feel things deeply. ‘I’d planned to send her away once things quieted down, marry her off to a farmer, but it will not be my choice now.’
‘Whose choice will be it?’
She made a careful curtsy and her keys jangled. The tiny sound comforted her. She might be a concubine, but she had privileges. ‘Why, yours as you are the new lord.’
His entire body stilled. ‘Are you always that involved with your household? Ordering their lives?’
‘Someone has to care for their welfare, but Hilda is my kinswoman and merits extra-special care. We share a grandmother. She lacks a dowry and everyone knows about her former position. It limits her marriage prospects.’
‘And what does she do here when she is not being a scullery maid? What does she prefer to do?’
Edith bit her lip, thinking quickly. Confessing about Hilda’s hatred and fear of the Norsemen would be a bad idea. She had to find a way to protect Hilda. She’d given her word that Hilda would not have to go into the hall today. In a few days’ time, she might feel differently and Edith could bring her back into the main household. ‘She works in the kitchens now. She prefers it that way.’
‘So then, this is the way you take your revenge?’ His face became colder than the moors on a winter’s day.
She squared her shoulders. Brand Bjornson did not need a further explanation. He’d already humiliated her enough for one day. ‘Hilda asked for the position. It suits her needs.’
‘No doubt she did.’ His mouth became a cynical white line. ‘Make sure she appears at the feast. In her best gown.’
‘Is that an order?’
His long fingers clenched at his side as if they were searching for the axe he’d carried earlier so he could bury it in her head. ‘If you will not do it any other way, then, yes, consider it an order. Seeing two Northumbrian women enjoying themselves will do much to allay the fears of the people who farm this place.’
‘Very well, I will inform her.’ Edith put a hand to her head. With each passing breath she knew her impulsive decision to accept his offer was more of a disaster waiting to happen than an inspiration. She touched her keys and drew strength. He wouldn’t stay. She would regain her position. ‘No more kitchens for my cousin.’
‘In future, leave the ordering of the household to me. No more giving disagreeable tasks to people you dislike.’ He held out his hand. ‘I will have your keys as well. You will have no need of them. The food shall be kept under my control.’
Edith struggled to gulp a breath of air. Those keys had hung from her waist ever since her mother had died. Without them, she’d be naked and the entire household would cease to function. ‘I’m not used to having idle hands. I am good at the practical things. I know where everything is, what needs to be done and in which order.’
‘Such as?’
‘Seeing to the accounts. I like being efficient and do it every evening. You need not worry. I’m no thief.’ She bit her lip. She had to admit it before they went any further. Seeing Hilda just now and the way she moved brought it home to her. She was no concubine, made for a man’s pleasure. She was the sort of woman that a man married because he had to and she had sufficient dowry. ‘You appear to have the wrong idea about me. I’ve no experience at being a...a concubine, but I can run a household.’
‘I run my own household.’ His tone allowed for no dissent. ‘The keys, Lady Edith. Or do I tear them from your waist?’
He would. The barbarian! Hilda’s story held more than a ring of truth. She could imagine him going berserk on the battlefield and slaughtering indiscriminately. Silently she undid them and placed them in his hand. Suddenly her entire being was lighter, but her waist felt naked and exposed. If anything, the bareness symbolised her new status as a slave. Edith schooled her features. She refused to burst into tears. She should have expected the request earlier.
He weighed the keys carefully and placed them in a pouch that he wore.
‘A large house is different from a warrior’s camp,’ Edith argued. ‘It takes a lifetime to master.’
‘I have a lifetime.’
‘I only wanted to help in case...’
His lip curled. ‘In case I was only fit for the pigsty?’
‘I never said that.’ Silently she prayed he’d see reason. Surely he couldn’t be that blind. He had to know that she could never play love games and that she alone should have control of the keys. Men did not control the keys.
If anything, his face became harder and more unyielding. It was easy to see why the rumours about his ferocity swirled about Northumbria.
‘I know what needs to be done and rest assured I will discover which door each of them unlocks. You will find I learn quickly.’
A shiver crept down her spine. He would discover precisely where she’d hidden everything. Instead of listening to Hilda, she should have been dismantling the key ring and retaining those keys she needed. Hindsight was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
‘And what do you suggest I do? Take up pig-keeping?’ She gave an arched laugh.
A distinctive heat came into his eyes. Bedchamber eyes. ‘It is always good to learn a new skill. You will see flirting will come to you in time. I’ve no intention of forcing you to keep pigs.’
Edith’s throat went dry. She swallowed hastily, trying to ignore the warm tide flowing through her. No man had the right to look that good. ‘A new skill! What sort of skill? And who will teach me? You!’
‘Having second thoughts, my lady? You can beg for the convent if you wish.’ He put his hands behind his head. ‘I might be open to begging.’
‘You know nothing of me.’ She crossed her arms. ‘I gave my word and will endeavour to keep it. I have always done so, regardless