He released her and left.
Her mouth hung open. How could he abandon her when she was more than ready to give him everything he desired?So the Norseman wishes to provoke me?She walked to the trunk and threw the lid open. She selected a dress and shook it out angrily. Fiend—inexorable barbarian. He played her for a fool yet again.
For once she craved strong drink. Noelle needed to erase any memory of him from her mind—forever. Better yet, she wanted to drink herself into oblivion. She laced her boots, then openedthe door and peeked outside. She had walked around the ship many times already, talking with Randvior and his men, and felt very comfortable around the crew. If he intended this experience to teach her anything of value, it hadn’t. It only convinced her that this newly discovered pleasure shared between a man and woman could be to her advantage… until she found a way home. Her resolve to escape flickered to life again. It might be possible.
Everyone on board served the same master now, and she might as well enjoy her elevated status amongst these heathens, whatever benefits it brought her. She scanned the deck. Randvior stood with his captains on the far end. He looked as if nothing in the world could bother him, as if nothing had transpired between them.
The fresh air renewed her strength. Randvior’s gaze traveled with her.Ah.Apparently he wasn’t as immune to her as she had feared.
A light breeze ruffled her skirts and she turned her face into the wind; the pungent smell of salt water pleased her. It reminded her of home and a sense of sadness struck her heart.
Weather conditions were favorable. She thanked the heavens for this bit of good fortune. When they’d boarded the ship, some of Randvior’s men complained she might bring them bad luck. Her paramour disregarded these allegations and called them superstitious fools. Their ships were guided by Odin’s hand.
As Noelle gazed heavenward, she smiled; the evening sky was colored with hues of glowing pinks and reds—a good omen.Red at night sailor’s delight, red in the morning sailor’s warning.
As she explored, she further witnessed Randvior’s familiarity with his men. They were friends, sharing everything—something her brother had never done with his servants. This affection fostered loyalty. She saw it on every man’s face, how they admired and trusted him. Even Noelle’s father lacked this level of intimacy with his men.
Unexpectedly, she spotted two familiar faces on deck. Two of her father’s soldiers were busy tying ropes. She greeted them, desirous to hear anything a fellow Saxon had to say.
“Lady Sinclair.” Samuel Cronin bobbed his head.
“Samuel,” she said. “Where are the other men and maids?”
“The women are below and the other guards are split among the other ships, none too happy for it.”
“Send my well wishes if you can,” she said looking at the second man. “And you, Henry Buckley, how are you?”
“Happier after seeing you in one piece,” he spoke hurriedly as he looked over his shoulder. “Wewillfind a way home, Lady Sinclair.”
Empty words. Noelle imagined a homecoming feast that rivaled any she’d ever attended. A daughter returns much like the famed prodigal son—only she hadn’t squandered her inheritance or left willingly. A strange silence passed between them as they stared out to sea. Hundreds of miles separated her from England now, and there was nothing comforting except the ocean.
She left Samuel and Henry and continued on a path toward Randvior.
As she passed, a dozen men smiled with the same cocky amusement she’d grown accustomed to seeing on Randvior’s face. An unfortunate inborn flaw, perhaps.
Her attention moved rapidly across the group of warriors that surrounded Randvior. His radiant face made her legs quiver as he stole another glance at her. She rested her hand on her hip. Her addled mind played tricks again. What if he boasted of his sexual conquests the way her father’s men always did? If these unscrupulous brigands knew what happened, would they ever respect her? She’d suffered already as the subject of his jokes.
She covered her face, blocking Randvior’s eyes from her own. She was only guessing—which never served anyone very well.She whirled, retreating full speed, heading directly for the cabin. She collided with a soldier. Noelle shoved him away in a huff, and tripped over her own feet as she stumbled through the door. She slammed it shut, barricading herself inside.
Confinement was the only escape at her disposal. But that only lasted a few minutes. Randvior tried to open the door. She braced her legs, hoped to keep the rest of the world locked out until they reached Norway. Randvior twisted the knob and pushed, but she stayed stubbornly locked in position. He banged on the planks and demanded she open the door. If she refused any longer, he’d probably just kick it down. She braced herself for what might happen when he came in and reluctantly stepped aside.
“What happened out there? Did you see a ghost?” he asked, entering the room.
“I would consider myself most fortunate if it was only an apparition taunting me.” She sat on the bed and wrung her hands nervously. “My conscience troubles me.” She raised her eyes to meet his.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. She couldn’t keep herself from sneaking admiring looks at his body.Only flesh and bone, she reminded herself,he’s only flesh and bone. His fine looks did little to relieve her; she was so helplessly riddled with guilt, she didn’t know what to do with herself any more.
He closed the door and moved closer. “Remember the things I told you in England?”
“I remember too much.”
What she really wanted were assurances for her future. She wanted him to vow he would care for her life as loyally as he would his own kinswoman’s. If he wouldn’t make her his wife, he should choose someone else. She needed a husband to protect her interests now. Even an inexperienced adolescent or an oldman would do. As long as he had a pulse and a respectable name, she’d accept it. This was the only bargaining chip she had left.
“Choose a man from amongst your warriors to become my husband if you won’t take me yourself.” If he didn’t choose her, if she were able to get out of his grasp, she might have a better chance of escape.
“Ahusband?” he repeated it several times as if he didn’t hear her correctly. There was half a bottle of wine left over from last night on the table. He tromped across the room and grabbed it, took a deep swig, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then slammed it down. “You change your mind as quickly as the wind shifts direction!”
“What are you talking about?”
