Ylva was pleased with the addition of the once-mysterious juniper berries in the rabbit stew. It was the best one she had ever cooked, and the men around the table—Ulf, Rothgar and Oslac—seemed to agree with her. They’d each filled their bowls a second time. She smiled, loving having her family in her home.
Then, as they were helping themselves to slices of dried fruit, Rothgar turned to his brother.
“Faðirand Mother are back from their visit to their friends. Will you and Einar come see them? I think they will like that.”
“Of course.” Ulf lifted the baby from his cot and gave him a kiss on the cheek, which made him coo. Then he walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the lips, which made her melt. “Will you excuse us a moment, my love? I won’t be long.”
Left alone with Oslac, Ylva put some herbs in the pot of boiling water. She wanted to make her favorite treat, a lemon balm and thyme tisane, sweetened with honey.
While she waited for the herbs to stew, she sat back down, determined to address what had been on her mind for days. With Ulf out of the way, the moment seemed ideal.
“Are you ever going to tell me who she is?” she said quietly, looking straight at her brother.
Oslac actually blushed but he tried to feign ignorance. “Who is who? What do you mean?”
Ylva rolled her eyes. “The blond woman with whom you’ve been spending an awful lot of time these last few weeks. Did you really think I wouldn’t have noticed?”
“Honestly?” He sighed, as if feeling foolish. “Yes, I had hoped as much, because I didn’t want you to think I was trying to replace Frigg too soon.”
She took his hand in hers, feeling the weight of his guilt. “I think nothing of the sort. I’m happy for you.”
His wife had been dead for almost two years, it was time he started to live again.
To her delight, after her wedding to Ulf, Oslac had decided to settle in the village to be close to her and his soon to be born nephew. He was only the second Saxon man to settle in the village. There were many Saxon women, like her, but so far, Caedmon had been the only one to marry a Dane.
Perhaps this would change soon.
After one last hesitation, Oslac started to talk. “Her name is Isabella. She is the daughter of Magnus’s brother, Sven, who lives in the other village. She lost her husband a few years ago and is older than me, though not by much. The cheese she makes is the best I’ve ever tasted. She doesn’t speak Norse very well. She’s afraid of snakes.” Ylva could not help a smile at this list of information aimed at hiding what he really meant to tell her. After one deep inhale, he did. “And I really like her.”
“That is all that matters.”
“Yes. It is.”
“You have endured enough hardship, no one is going to begrudge you a little happiness, least of all me.”
“Thank you. But enough about me. How is everything with you and your two Norsemen?” he asked, as if to steer the attention away from him again. She had discovered her brother was unusually shy where matters of the heart were concerned. “The big one and the small one?”
Ylva beamed. “Everything is perfect.”
More than perfect. The last month, since Einar’s birth, had been like a dream. The only drawback, as expected, had been the absence of carnal relations. But she had decided that tonight was the night she would start seducing Ulf again.
And she couldn’t wait.
So warm…
There weren’t many things Ylva liked better than waking up next to her handsome, naked husband. With a groan of contentment she pressed herself against Ulf, who was still sleeping, one graceful arm thrown over his head. Dawn was not far but Einar was blessedly asleep, so they could afford to stay a moment longer in bed. And she knew exactly how she wanted to spend that moment.
Last night, after Ulf had come back from Steinar’s hut, she had been too tired to put her daring plan to execution, but she was now feeling invigorated and more aroused than she had in weeks.
Her hand snaked under the covers and landed on her husband’s cock. It instantly stirred, and it wasn’t long before it started to harden. As soon as it was standing to attention, ready for what she had had in mind, a hand clamped over hers.
“My love. We cannot do this.” Ulf sounded wide awake—and almost in pain. “It’s too soon.”
Ylva protested when he drew away from her as if to ensure he did the right thing by her and did not allow his masculine urges to sway him. She knew what he meant. It had only been a month since Einar’s birth and her body had yet to fully recover.
“It’s too soon for me,” she conceded. Unfortunately, she could feel that she was still tender between her legs. But what she had in mind wouldn’t hurt her—and would give them both immense satisfaction. “But not for you.”
She sat up and allowed her gaze to wander over the chest on display in front of her. There was a very noticeable bulge tenting the furs. Ylva smiled. That bulge needed attention, say what he might.
