“You are not an outsider. You are my wife.” He sounded angry, but Aoife knew she was right. Whatever Tormod said, not all of his people saw it that way.
“But still an outsider, the daughter of an enemy.”
“A new ally,” Tormod corrected.
She watched him for a moment. He really seemed to believe what he said. The thought that her stepmother would betray her in an instant and worse, persuade her father to do so also was something she could no longer put off telling him, but before she could, he closed the gap between them and put his arms around her.
Tormod ran his hand over her hair and cupped the back of her head. For a moment, he did nothing more, then he gently angled her towards him and closed his mouth over hers. His kiss was warm and passionate, and her eyes drifted shut as she kissed him back as hungrily as he kissed her. Without thought, she took a step towards him, their bodies colliding and moulding against one another. As long as he was kissing her, she felt safe. Sure of him and his need for her.
She allowed herself to get lost in the kiss, wishing it would never end, or if it did, hoping somehow it would have solved everything. Of course, that was simply not possible, and all too soon his mouth lifted from hers and he set them apart. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.
“You must understand this is difficult for both of us,” Tormod said. “I have a village whose safety I have to ensure. I cannot…” He turned away from her. “I cannot allow lust to cloud my judgment.” He looked back at her, and she thought she saw guilt in his face—but why?
They stared at each other and her heart beat faster at the knowledge he did indeed feel lustful towards her. It was a long way from love, although perhaps it showed some level of connection between them. A connection that could be developed over time.
“Are you sure you can trust my father?” she asked. Perhaps it was foolish. Perhaps she should go on allowing him to believe it, but she couldn’t. It may not make her own life any safer, but now there was Elisedd to think about, too. The Norsemen wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if they thought they were being betrayed.
“No.”
She blinked. “But…”
“I never trust anyone,” he said shortly and left the room.
Stunned, she stared after him for a moment, and when the door banged shut, she rested her head in her hands. She didn’t know whether his words were a relief or not. He already didn’t trust her father and had still been kind to her.
She tried to puzzle out in her head just what had happened and what was going on. It turned out she needn’t have worried about Tormod trusting her father. That really had been rather naïve. No one became jarl by blindly trusting everyone around them. She smiled to herself. This husband of hers was no fool.
A knock at the door indicated Ragna’s arrival.
“If you are ready, I will take you through the hall and some of the village so you can meet the villagers properly and see how we do things here. There are some decisions that need to be made, and I have been putting them off,” Ragna said.
“Should Tormod not be—”
“Decisions that should be made by the jarl’s wife,” Ragna clarified. “Not things that are of interest to the jarl.”
“I was brought up knowing how to run a household.” Aoife felt a sudden spark of hope that perhaps she really could prove herworth and her loyalty in much the same way as she would have done amongst her own people. “I’m sure there are differences and your ways…”
Ragna’s warm smile made her feel much better. “I’m sure much of it will be the same, the basics at the very least, and I will be here to help you. And there are many things you can teach us, about some of the native plants and your seasons and the people who live here.” Ragna stopped speaking and peered at her. “These were your father’s lands, were they not?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know the people who lived here?”
“What?” Aoife blinked, then racked her brains, trying to remember if she had. “Perhaps.” She frowned. “I’m not sure. I had never visited here, only seen it from the far shore.”
“It had been abandoned when we arrived. At first I thought that was a good thing, although now I am not so sure,” Ragna confessed.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, if we had won the land in battle, it would have been truly ours. As it is, the previous inhabitants may well be still close by and none too happy about our arrival.”
Aoife didn’t know what to say. Of course, Ragna was probably right. She struggled to remember what she knew, but she had spent so little time at her father’s fort after the siege of Alt Clut that she wasn’t sure she knew that information. And she had never ridden out with her father to visit their surrounding lands. That would have been for a son to do.
“My father’s steward, Rhydderch, would know,” Aoife said. “Whatever has happened in the last two years, I cannot help you with.” Aoife left the fact that Rhydderch was unlikely to ever share that information unsaid.
“Now,” said Ragna, “let us see what we can do this morning. Tormod tells me we are going to visit the boy at Håkon’s farm tomorrow.”
Aoife smiled at her, genuinely pleased her husband was honouring his word. “You think Håkon will be kind to him?”
