Defiant in the Viking's Bed. Joanna Fulford
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gaze met his and yielded. ‘I confess I do like you, and I have enjoyed your company, but there is no future in this. You know that as well as I.’
‘All I know is that I haven’t been able to put you out of my mind since first we met. When I’m awake I think of you; when I sleep you fill my dreams.’
‘I cannot do what you’re asking.’
‘You have no reason to be afraid. I would treat you well; whatever you desire you shall have if it be in my power to give it.’
‘Will you offer me honourable marriage, Leif?’
‘In my experience there is precious little honour to be found there, and I will not deal in false promises.’ His gaze never wavered. ‘I have already intimated as much.’
‘So you did, and I am grateful for that honesty.’
‘I don’t want your gratitude, Astrid. I want you, but I would not have any pretence between us. If you come with me it will be with your eyes open.’
‘They are open and I’m not coming with you.’ You love someone else, she thought.
‘You don’t have to make up your mind now. Take some time. Think it over.’
‘There is nothing to think over. I will not be any man’s whore.’
With that she stepped away from him and hurried away down the path. For a moment or two he watched her go, strongly tempted to fetch her back and at the same time knowing he wouldn’t. What he wanted from her could not be compelled. It still surprised him that he did want her that much. His offer had been an impulse and yet he couldn’t regret making it, even if she had turned him down flat. Realistically he ought to have been better prepared for that. It was also ridiculous to feel quite so disappointed by her refusal.
* * *
Astrid reached the buildings a short time later, barely registering the lathered horses or the group of men outside the hall. She had no wish to see anyone until she had recovered her composure so she ducked around the corner and headed for the bower. The encounter with Leif had left her shaken for many reasons, not least because he was right; she was not indifferent to him. His kiss lingered still. The strength of the attraction she had felt in that brief embrace was profoundly shocking and it could only lead to disaster. Thank all the gods that good sense had prevailed.
On reaching the bower she bathed her face and tidied her hair, by which time she was calmer and better able to face the world. She was about to leave when the door opened to admit Ragnhild. When she saw Astrid she smiled.
‘I hoped I might find you here.’
‘Forgive me. I went for a walk...’
‘Then you will not have heard.’
‘Heard what, Highness?’
‘Your uncle is but lately arrived.’
Astrid stared at her in dismay. ‘My uncle? What is he doing here?’
‘I imagine he will tell you that himself. He wishes to speak with you.’ Ragnhild paused. ‘I wanted to prepare you first.’
‘I thank you. It was a kind thought.’
‘He is in the hall.’
* * *
Astrid paused on the threshold, surveying the newcomers uneasily. There were half a dozen of them, all slaking their thirst with ale. However, she had no problem locating the burly figure of her uncle. Although only just above the average height, he was powerfully built, reminding her of nothing so much as an old bear. Foreboding grew. Then, taking a deep breath, she went in.
Her uncle failed to notice her until his companion gave a discreet cough alerting him to her presence. He looked round. Cunning dark eyes subjected her to a cool and thorough appraisal. Then he nodded in grudging approval.
‘Well, well. The cygnet has become a swan.’
She dropped a polite curtsy. ‘Your visit is an unexpected surprise, my lord.’
‘No doubt.’
‘May I ask what brings you here?’
‘You do.’ He drained his cup and tossed it to a servant. ‘I am come to take you back to Vingulmark.’
Her stomach lurched. ‘My lord?’
‘I have found a husband for you. You’re to be married.’
It was like being punched and, for a moment or two, speech was impossible. The piercing gaze fixed her.
‘Why do you stare at me, girl?’
There were many things she might have said, all of them angry and all of them unwise since their utterance would only create a public scene. Instead she strove for self-control.
‘Forgive me. I...I was just taken by surprise, that’s all.’
He grunted. ‘No doubt. Possibly you thought I had forgotten the matter entirely.’ Without waiting for a reply he continued, ‘I will admit it should have happened sooner, but I have been occupied with other things. However, it has turned out well enough. Your future husband is connected to the most influential family in Vingulmark.’
Astrid licked dry lips. ‘May I know his name?’
‘Of course. You are to marry Jarl Gulbrand.’
She controlled resentment and a sensation of rising panic. Her uncle had spoken the truth. Gulbrand did indeed have a noble name: he was related to the royal house. He was also Prince Hakke’s cousin and, like his cousin, he had an unsavoury reputation, on the battlefield and off it.
‘When is this marriage to take place?’
‘Next month.’
‘But that’s barely two weeks away.’
‘Time enough. We leave tomorrow.’
‘I cannot go so soon. I have duties here.’
The dark eyes narrowed. ‘Your duties here are over. Be ready to leave first thing in the morning.’
It was dismissal. Astrid made her escape from the hall, her mind reeling. Ragnhild caught up with her outside.
‘I’m so sorry, Astrid. It has come as a shock to me too.’
‘Is there no way this can be prevented?’
‘I wish there were, but your uncle is your guardian, not I.’
‘Might not the king intervene?’
‘He has no more jurisdiction in this than I do.’
Astrid blinked back angry tears. ‘Then I am well and truly lost.’
* * *
When Leif looked around the hall that evening he could see no sign of the one he sought. He wondered if she were avoiding him but then decided it was unlikely, since Ragnhild wasn’t present either. No doubt Astrid was keeping her company. All the same, it was frustrating and, if he were honest, disappointing too. Her absence cast an unexpected pall over the proceedings. Until then he hadn’t realised how much he had been hoping to see her; to speak with her; to try and persuade her...
‘What in the name of Tyr One-Hand is he doing here?’
Finn’s voice roused him from his reverie and he followed his brother’s gaze across the hall. Seeing Jarl Einar, he frowned. The jarl’s estates in Vingulmark might be close to Leif’s own lands, but that was the sole extent of their neighbourliness. While there hadn’t been open hostility as such, it was well known that many of Einar’s associates were connected with the royal house of Vingulmark. The defeat at Eid must have come as a blow. He could not have foreseen that, or the subsequent turn of events, when he placed his niece with Sigurd Hjort and his family all those years ago.
‘Good