“Aye. I can see that.”
Claricia stood in the doorway, and despite the fire in her eyes, her hands were clasped perfectly in front of her—almost as if she were physically holding herself back from storming across the room. “Forgive the interruption, gentlemen, but I need a word with me husband.” She paused, then added with barely-controlled bite, “Now, if ye dinnae mind.”
The councilors exchanged glances and one or two shifted uncomfortably.
Erik’s expression went carefully blank, and Claricia knew she wouldn’t like what came next.
“Nay. I’ll come, but ‘tis nae the right time now.”
Claricia blinked. Of all the responses she had expected, that single, flat syllable wasn’t one of them.
“I beg yer pardon?”
He gestured toward the corridor. “Ye’ll wait there. Until we’re done and then we will speak.”
“Erik,” she took a step closer, confusion and hurt flashing across her face. “There are two men followin’ me everywhere I go, and I dinnae?—”
“I ken, wife.” His voice was gruff, but not unkind. “And I’ll explain.Afterthis meetin’.”
“But—”
“Claricia.” His voice had gone deadly quiet. “Ye are dismissed.”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. The eyes of every man in the room settled on her, watching the domestic scene play out—waiting to see if their jarl’s Highland wife would obey, or make a scene.
The entire room held its breath.
Claricia straightened her spine. “Fine.” She turned to go, and closed the door with a soft click. Nobody moved for a heartbeat. Then two.
Aksel let out a low whistle. “Well, that was painful tae watch.”
Erik’s jaw tightened. “We’ve more important matters?—”
“Och, I dinnae doubt it.” Aksel’s grin was sharp as broken glass. “But I have tae say, Wolf, ‘tis nice tae see ye actually act like a jarl instead of a hound fer once. I was startin’ tae worry ye’d forgotten how.”
Several of the councilors shifted uncomfortably. One coughed.
“Ye’re right,” Erik said quietly. “I’ve been providin’ fer me wife. Givin’ her what she needs, tryin’ tae make this gods-damned forced marriage intae somethin’ we can both live with. But dinnae mistake me kindness fer weakness.” He leaned forward, pinning Aksel with a hard look. “I will nae abide the interruption of a War Council. So, tell me, Aksel—dae ye still think me a lovesick hound?”
The silence that fell was heavy enough to crush stone.
“Nay, me jarl,” Aksel said. And then, finally, “The attack site’s been cleared. Must’ve been at least four men draggin’ bodies based on the tracks we saw. Led straight tae the shore, then disappeared.”
“Boat?” Malcolm asked.
“They must be hidin’ it somewhere on the island.” Erik’s hands braced on the table edge, knuckles white. “Either way, it means organization. Resources and numbers.” He looked up, meeting each man’s eyes in turn. “This isnae some rabble of thieves. Someone’s coordinatin’.”
“And gettin’ away with it right under our gods-damned noses.” Aksel added darkly.
“Which brings us back tae the same question,” Malcolm said. “Who dae we ken of that has the gold, the men, the gall and the grudge tae mount an offensive like this?”
“Double the guards on Lady Claricia,” Erik said, his voice flat and final. “Four men. Two visible, two in shadow. She daesnae goanywherealone. Understood?”
“Ye dae realize,” Aksel said, an impish gleam in his eyes, “that doublin’ her guards means ye need tae have a conversation with our lady that’ll make Ragnarok look like a wee skirmish between youngin’s.”
“Aye.” Erik’s jaw set like stone. “Better she be angry and breathin’ than dead because I worried about that sharp tongue of hers.”
The councilors moved toward the door, and as Aksel passed, he clapped Erik on the shoulder. “Ye did good, me friend. Ye really did.”
