‘I will remember that about you. It may come in useful.’
‘What, me speaking in a sing-song? I hate it when it happens. My old nurse used to tell me to concentrate hard and it would vanish like snow under the summer sun. It only seemed to make matters worse.’
‘No, me knowing when you are nervous.’ His eyes became deep pools. ‘You are my wife now. Part of my responsibility is to ensure you are protected, particularly when you are nervous. And your old nurse sounds like a difficult woman.’
‘I can stand on my own two feet,’ she said before the temptation to like him too much overpowered her. ‘One benefit of having a nurse like Helga. My failures belonged to me even if my successes came from her.’
‘Everyone, even me, can use help at times. Try to remember to allow people to help you.’
His voice slid over her like soft fur, making her want to believe in him.
‘When the time comes, I’ll try to accept help graciously, but wait until I ask for it.’
He inclined his head. ‘Understood, but my vow before Var and the other gods was to be your husband.’
She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and ignored the way her hand trembled. ‘Now, what are we going to do about the sleeping arrangements? Should I make up a bed on the floor?’
The butterflies in her stomach had subsided. She had quietly let him know that she anticipated that this would start out as a platonic marriage. She had little intention of melting into his arms simply because they were now married.
He gave a half-smile. ‘We share the bed tonight. I have no wish for any early surprises or accidental entering. Even with the trunk against the door, it could happen.’
‘Does that happen?’
‘It has been known at Tara. Some people take a great deal of pride in doing it. Appeals to their sense of humour, I guess.’
He stretched, pulling his tunic taut across his broad chest. She glanced away. She had no business noticing the state of his chest or the fine down covering his muscular forearms. ‘I see.’
‘But you can take the floor if you wish,’ he continued in an ultra-reasonable voice. ‘I know the value of a soft bed, even if you seem not to. And I am happy to cut my thigh to provide the blood on the sheets.’
‘Blood on the sheets?’
‘They are sure to be examined. In the eyes of this community, you are unmarried and therefore a maiden.’
‘I hadn’t considered you’d think of something like that.’
‘Lucky that I have.’
Svanna concentrated on a spot in the centre of the room rather than looking at him any longer. She hated how warmth coiled about her insides at the thought of sharing a bed with him.
‘I trust your words from last night. You will keep your promises. I accept your judgement about the sheets as well, but I am willing to be the one who bleeds on them.’ She held out her hand. ‘Give me your dagger.’
He inclined his head. ‘Progress of a sort. One day we will make a fine team, my lady fair.’
Svanna lifted her chin up. ‘I consider trust an important part of any marriage, but it needs to be earned.’
‘Indeed.’ He bowed and handed her the dagger.
She threw back the sheets, made a shallow cut and watched the blood pool. When she started to feel ill, she wiped the sheets. ‘That should be enough.’
He took a cloth, dipped it into the water and wiped the remaining traces of blood from her hand. He carefully placed the towel by the basin.
‘Won’t they know?’
‘They will think I washed you clean.’ His eyes crinkled. ‘It happens more often than you might think. No one questions.’
She put her hands over her mouth. It was all becoming clear. He knew about this because his first wife had done something similar. That had been a love match by all accounts, but she found she didn’t want to pry.
‘I hadn’t thought. You’ve done this before.’
