He spared a moment to glance back at her. “Why do you ask me that again?”
Kristen shrugged. “Because you married her. That is carrying revenge a bit far, if you ask me.”
“Stay out of it, Kris.”
She tsked her tongue. “Gladly, just as soon as a certain arrogant jackdaw is gone from my home.”
He winced. “I am not arrogant.”
“I meantherbrother, lackwit, not mine.”
Selig found them still alone in the chapel, sitting side by side, their voices too soft for him to overhear, even though he eavesdropped for a while, hoping to hear something. Ragnar’s arm was around her shoulder. Erika’s head rested against his. This was her brother. Still, Selig had the urge to remove that arm from her.
“I trust you have had a pleasant reunion?”
Erika turned at the sound of his voice. Ragnar came abruptly to his feet. His expression revealed nothing, so Selig had no clue to what he had been told. Her expression was anxious, which could have meant anything, including she was still fearful for her brother.
Selighadstopped by the smith long enough to collect his new sword. He wore it now, though without armor, for he still wore the clothes he had been married in. Erika was likewise still in her finery. As he didn’t recall getting to his bed last night, he didn’t recall noticing if she had been in his chamber when he did, much less if she had removed her clothes or slept in them like he did.
Ragnar, of course, had entered Wyndhurst fully armed, though it was his left hand that rested casually on his sword hilt as he approached Selig, indicating that he didn’t mean to use the weapon. A circumstance which could change at any given moment.
Ragnar stopped two feet away. His right fist landed before Selig saw it coming. Erika shot to her feet, crying, “Do not—!” but she cut off her words, for Selig had barely been moved by the punch. In fact, only his face had turned with it, and there was subtle amusement in his expression when he looked back at Ragnar.
To give Ragnar his due, he was annoyed rather than distressed that he had done so little damage. Erika, however, was absolutely frantic, because she was sure she held no power over her husband, and so would have no luck in persuading him not to retaliate. She didn’t get the opportunity to try.
“That was for the worry you put me through,” Ragnar told Selig plainly.
“Ah,” Selig replied, as if that made perfect sense. He fingered his cheek before adding, “Then ’tis not your wish to fight me?”
“Not at the present, though I reserve the right to alter that decision in future.”
“Certainly.”
Selig’s smile had Ragnar close to losing his temper again. “Understand me, Haardrad. I do not believe much of Erika’s tale, yet is she sincere in her desire to stay with you. I like it not, but I will grant her wish. However, I leave her man Turgeis with her. If she comes to her senses and wants to return home, he will bring her, and Odin help you if you try to stop him.”
That took care of Selig’s amusement, replacing it with something quite unfamiliar—possessiveness. “Thisis her home now. She will have no wish to leave Wessex.”
It was Ragnar’s trun to smile, and not very pleasantly. “Or you?” And he scoffed, “She is enamored of your face, man, but more than that is needed to sustain love—if there be any. Bring her to Gronwood in six months and we will see if what she feels for you has a chance of enduring. If so, then I will be pleased to call you brother.”
Selig wasn’t going to worry about what might or might not happen six months away. Ragnar was conceding, would leave here without his sister. Selig had been able to diffuse the situation without killing the man, or rather, Erika had managed to do it. He would give anything to know exactly what she had told her brother, aside from the fact that she thought him handsome. Did she really? He shouldn’t be so pleased to know it, but he was.
Ragnar turned to find that Erika had come up behind him. He hugged her now, and Selig again experienced that ridiculous urge to tear them apart.
Her voice held dismay as she asked her brother, “You are not leaving yet, are you?”
“Nay, Rika,” he assured her. “But I must inform my men of what has occurred. We will not depart until the morrow, so I will return to spend the time with you.”
His promise relieved her enough that she even smiled. “And you must tell me more of this great heiress who refused to marry you.”
“She refused, but her father did not. Yet am I reconsidering the offer. Thurston needs a mother who will give him the care you did. But we will speak of it later.”
He had already assured her that Thurston was fine, his arm healing apace. He had also mentioned that the thefts Gronwood had been plagued with had abruptly ended with Wulnoth’s death. Turgeis had saved him the trouble of hanging the man, apparently, and she was not really surprised to learn that Wulnoth had been responsible for the thefts. It explained why a man so eager for victims had not come up with one for that crime.
Ragnar turned to leave and caught Selig staring as if mesmerized by Erika’s smile—which vanished the moment she noticed his perusal. Ragnar frowned and told Selig in parting, “She and I share the same father with a score of other siblings, but Erika is the only one of them who shared the same mother with me. Besides myson, she is the only family I acknowledge and is very dear to me. You have wed her without my consent. If you hurt her, I will take back the life I saved.”
Selig said nothing to that. He liked ultimatums no more than he liked subtle threats. Blatant threats were usually answered immediately and in kind. But for her brother he had to make an exception. He wished he didn’t understand so perfectly how the man felt, but he did.
He nodded curtly and Ragnar left. It was a moment before Selig turned to gaze at Erika again. He didn’t like the wary look she returned.
