“Nay, your own wedding was the surprise, though I was not sure you would agree. You were tricked into admitting you love me, and I have not heard you say it since.”
“You really meant to marryme?”
“Aye.”
“Oh, Royce!” She threw herself at him, knocking him back onto the bed.
“Then you do love my daughter?” Brenna interrupted their kiss.
“Mother!” Kristen rolled over. “God’s teeth! I have heard none of this before, and now I must hear it in front of you, and by coercion? Is that any way—”
“Be quiet, love. I have no time to cater to your sensibilities. ’Tis no fault of mine if he has not told you until now, but I will hear him say it.”
Royce said it. “I love her.”
“It means naught when you are forced to say it,” Kristen grumbled.
He caught her chin, bringing her eyes to his. “Do you really think I could be forced to say it, vixen? I love you.”
Behind them, Brenna chuckled. “Your father came just as late to admitting it, Kristen.”
Kristen was smiling quite bemusedly. She did not even hear her mother. But Royce could not ignore Brenna’s presence, no matter how much he wished her gone at the moment.
Soberly he said, “And now what?”
“Now I have my answers I will leave as I came, and hope I can talk some sense—”
“Brenna!”
Royce saw both women cringe at the sound of that booming voice outside the window. It raised the hairs on his own neck.
“God save us, I knew it was too much to hope he would not find me gone.”
“Brenna, answer!” Garrick bellowed again.
“Your father?” Royce ventured.
“Aye.”
“And he speaks the Celtic tongue, too?”
“I told you his mother was Christian. She was a Celt—”
Brenna cut in sharply. “You had best make haste below, Royce. Garrick has no doubt awakened your men. See they do not leave the hall armed, or they will be cut down.” She did not wait to see if he obeyed, but rushed to the window, calling down, “God’s teeth, Viking, you do not have to shout down the hall. I am here, safe, and Kristen is with me. Nay! Do not come inside, Garrick. I will come to you.”
Kristen had moved to the window beside her mother the moment Royce left the chamber. Torchlight illuminated the whole yard below, and what she saw were more than a hundred Vikings—helmeted, armed with sword and axe, and ready to storm the hall. She could only pray Royce would not call his men to arm. They would not stand a chance.
Chapter Forty-three
“Nay! Nay, Thorolf, you cannot mean it! Let me speak to him.”
It was morning, but the hall was still quiet. Women cried silently and prayed. The men solemnly sharped their weapons.
Brenna had gone back to Garrick, but he had not allowed her to return. Thorolf had been sent instead to tell them what had been decided. The Vikings had withdrawn outside the walls again. Kristen had waited with Royce throughout the rest of the night. They had waited for an attack, an ultimatum, but not for what Thorolf had been instructed to say.
She stood with Royce by the entrance, where they had met Thorolf. He had come unarmed at first light. His jaw was twice its size, testimony to her uncle Hugh’s hot temper. He had spoken only to her, leaving it to her to interpret his words for Royce. She had not done that yet.
“You can come with me now to see him,” Thorolf told her plainly. “But if you leave this hall, your Saxon loses his only bargaining power. I do not think you want that.”
