For a moment, only the footsteps of the men and horses and the trundle of the carts broke the silence.
“You do not intend to sail back to… the north?” She realised her ignorance about anything concerning these men. Where had they really come from?
“Perhaps one day,” Tormod replied. “But my father has many sons, too many to share his lands in the north, so I have lands here now. And this is where I will make my home. A native wife will help.”
“You are sure?”
“You can teach the others your language, share what you know about foodstuffs, herbs and animal rearing. Help us to make a successful living here. As the daughter of a lord, I expect you have been trained in the running of a large household.”
Aoife nodded, her hopes for the future leaping at his words. She could do those things. She was going to be needed here, would have a role to play, and may in time come to be accepted by his people. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so different from the life she might have led had her mother lived and arranged a marriage for her to a Briton or even a Pict. Unless… She would have to make sure they didn’t discover her presence, did not assure them the safety they expected. Or maybe she should tell them now, so they were better prepared. She realised Tormod was looking at her.
“If you are worried I cannot provide for you, then let me assure you I am a richer man than your father. And my men are loyal… unlike your father.”
“What do you mean?” Shock ran through her. He thought her father disloyal?
“Your father abandoned his king, right before we attacked. Is that not true?”
“Yes…” Her heart raced. Her father’s misfortunes may, in fact, all stem from her if what this man said was true. “He wasn’t fleeing because of that.” She frowned, remembering the beating she’d received—even after her family knew her vision had saved their lives. Her stepmother had used it as an excuse to send her away. She’d had visions at the abbey and been beaten every time—far worse than her stepmother had done. The most recent only a few days hence. Brother Pasgen had claimed he was beating the demons from her, and her penance had been long hours spent on her knees, praying.
How would these men, known for their violence, react to finding out what had happened, what she had seen? What she was?
If civilised people beat her, then how much worse would the punishment be from these barbarians? Except so far, their treatment of her was better than anything in her past, even if it had only been a matter of hours.
Perhaps as a wife, she would have more status. And later as a mother. She pursed her lips. She was no naïve innocent. She was aware of what happened between a man and his wife.
Her new husband tilted his head from side to side, then pulled off his helmet. As he turned to face her, her breath caught. His appearance, the jut of his nose and chin, the expression on his face, and his eyes—it was all so familiar. She’d seen his face before. In one of her visions. She felt the rumble of the thunder from her dreams echo through her body and heard the croak of a raven.
Yes, this was indeed her fate, for better or for worse.
Chapter Five
Tormod was convinced therewas something Aoife wasn’t telling him. However, he was pleased with the arrangement in other ways. She was pretty. Perhaps a little too delicate, and he suspected childbearing might be hard on her, however, given the imaginings he’d had the past two days, she was, indeed, a very pleasant alternative to those. After his first marriage, however, he had to make sure that there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that any child she birthed was definitely his.
“So,” he said, pushing aside the lustful thoughts that crowded into his mind with her proximity. “You were to be a holy woman?”
“That was what my father had decided, yes.” She smoothed her hands down the fabric of her robes. Everything she wore was white, bar her cloak, and most of her hair was veiled. He smiled at the thought of running his hands through it later.
“Sometimes your people send girls to the Church when they have… been indiscreet.” She gasped and glared at him. His grin widened. “No indiscretions. Then why?”
She turned away from him again and reached for the small cross hanging around her neck, then let her hands fall into her lap. “Does it matter?”
He nearly didn’t hear her, the words were whispered so quietly. However, he picked up the tremor in her voice and saw that her hands, now clasped in her lap, shook with more than just themotion of the cart. He looked around at the men he had brought with him. All armed with swords and axes, their shields carried beside them or hung from their saddles, helmets covering most of their faces, and leather armour making their already broad chests look even larger. In contrast, she was only a girl, alone. Her family had not even had the grace to send a maid with her, although Tormod had seen the simple lives the holy men and women led and realised she had probably been without that luxury for however long she’d been at the abbey.
“Björn!” he called and indicated he should give them more space. His cousin grinned at him, then shouted the order and all the men distanced themselves from the cart.
He placed his hand over her clasped ones. She tensed and started to pull away.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, closing his hand around both of hers. They were still cold, almost icy, and so much smaller and softer than his own battle-hardened ones. After a moment, she seemed to accept his touch and relaxed. She turned her head slowly to look at him. He took in the paleness of her skin, the smattering of freckles across her cheeks, the intense blue of her eyes, and then his gaze centred on her lips. They were pale pink, thin like the rest of her, and when he jerked his hand, she gasped and her lips parted.
He meant only to comfort her, but instead, his lips touched hers gently before he lifted his head. She said nothing; just watched him. She was his wife—he had all the time in the world to spend teaching her how to please him and accept the pleasure he could give her. Tonight there would be no rushed coupling, but he would not be fool enough to lose his heart to this woman. That would not stop them from enjoying meeting their physical needs together.
Her throat moved as she swallowed, and he admired the fact she didn’t pull away from him this time. She was afraid, this daughter of a lord, but she knew her duty. She would submit to him as theChristians taught their wives should. However, that was not what he wanted. That was not enough. Nor was this about love, not at all. It was simply the desire to have her submit to him through choice — how much of a victory would it be to have Cadell’s daughter willingly sharing his bed and not forced there by either her father or her husband? He smiled at the thought.
“May I kiss you again?” he asked, pleased when she nodded. This time he lingered, running his tongue along the join of her lips. When she opened her mouth, he touched his tongue to hers. She made a tiny sound deep in her throat. He ran a hand down the back of her head, pulled her in towards him, and kissed her deeply. Then, deciding to retreat while he was ahead, he set her back from him and cupped her cheek. She stared at him, a look of wonder on her face. Then her eyes clouded, and she lowered her head.
He turned to see Björn watching them, a grin on his face. Tormod pulled Aoife close and frowned at Björn over her head. Let Björn grin. Tormod was not displeased with his new wife and was sure with some patience, she would become a willing bedmate. He was not without some skill in that area.
But then doubts came crowding back, and he wondered if her demureness was an act. She had responded eagerly for a few moments. Was it simply a case of her forgetting herself and enjoying his touch, or was it more sinister than that? Was she already planning how to betray him?
