“And not unusual that I would refuse it,” Selig shot back tersely.
“Tellmeyou do not find her the least bit appealing,” Brenna said.
He knew it then, without a doubt, that she had indeed seen Erika beneath him in the corridor, naked, and had merely kept that part of the tale to herself. Stiffly, he told her, “That has no bearing. I am to marry a woman who hates me? Is that what you want for me?”
It was Kristen who answered, and indignantly. “Certainly not. We expect you to come to your senses and give her back to her brother, because it looks as if you must do one or the other.”
And Garrick said, quite calmly, “We cannot be responsible for keeping the Saxon king here. He was to depart on the morrow. And if we just let the siege continue, the girl’s brother could grow tired of the wait and attack instead, and he would unknowingly be attacking the King of Wessex. Do you want the responsibility of starting the war between these Saxons and Danes again, son?”
How was it fathers always knew how to pile on the guilt just so, so that there was no hope of digging your way out of it? And they wereon his side? Mayhap he could put his honor aside and fight Ragnar Haraldsson after all—nay, he could not. He would have to give the lady up. He was not about to marry a woman he despised.
Alfred appeared in the doorway just then, tall, fair—regal. “I see you have found him,” he said to no one in particular, then pinned Selig with his blue eyes. “What is your answer?”
Selig could argue all he liked with his family, but like most men, he found it extremely difficult opposing a king, even a Saxon king who held no exact allegiance from him. “I will marry her.”
Alfred had expected no other answer. “Excellent. Then all that must needs deciding now is whether to invite the lady’s brother to the ceremony or inform him after the feat is accomplished.”
Royce suggested, “If we are to avoid an immediate assault, afterward.”
And Kristen came out of her shock long enough to point out, “He is like to attack anyway. Think you he will not know she is forced?”
The word stung Selig to the quick. Any other woman he had ever known would be thrilled did he offer marriage. Anyone but this one…
“She will not be forced,” he said tightly, only to know it for a lie and amend, “at least she will wed me willingly, and convince her brother of that.”
It was his mother who cocked a brow at him. “How will you manage that miracle if she hates you as you say?”
He gave her an annoyed look. Verily, she didn’t seem the least bit sorry for him, seemed almostamused. If anyone was being forced, he was, and his own mother should at least grieve a little that it was so.
“I will see to it,” was all he said.
“Then you had better get to it right quickly,” Brenna said. “If you mean to do this thing, it should be done this eventide, the brother told in the morn. He will need knowledge of a wedding night come and gone to keep him from thinking he can undo this match.”
A wedding night? The thought was galvanizing—and chilling. A wedding night, with her—nay, there would be none. Without temptation thrown in his face, he did not want her. Revenge was all he wanted from her, had ever wanted—and would still have.
Chapter 29
BY THE TIMESelig reached his chamber, he was so furious he could barely contain it. It was in every line of his handsome face, and it was without direction. He wanted to blame Erika, the fates, even himself, but the rage wouldn’t settle on any one person or thing specific—it was just there. And with it was the strangest exhilaration he had ever felt. If he did not know better, he would think it was pure joy, which, of course, it couldn’t be.
Wearing her chainse, she stood before the window, from which she could see at least half of the army camped before the gates. He didn’t doubt she had stood there since the Danes’ arrival. She wouldn’t even look away long enough to note who had entered the chamber, though he knew she had heard him, saw her tense, then force herself to relax.
He crossed the room, stopped just behind her, and could see the Danes for himself in the light of their campfires. They were impressive. They were deadly serious—at least her brother was, and he apparently led them.
She had tensed again at Selig’s nearness, and did not relax this time. He didn’t have to say a word for her to know it was him, yet she still wouldn’t turn to confirm it. Not doing so, she was unaware of his fury, might not have said what she did if she could have seen it.
Her voice was soft, tired. “It is over. I will even apologize now.”
He was amazed his own tone was moderate. “For having no heart?”
“For letting your insults provoke my temper into ordering that lashing.”
His voice was sharper, though no less curious. “How did I insult you?”
It took her a few moments before she would say it. “You invited yourself to my bed.”
He didn’t recall it, but he would not be surprised were it true. It was his nature to court all women, and she was one of the lovelier ones. There would have had to be something wrong with him for him not to try to charm her—but there had been something wrong with him. And he could do no more than curse that damn fever that had so muddled his memory.
“Most women would consider that a compliment,” he said. There was no conceit in that, just a statement based on his life experiences.
