Page 114 of Viking in Love

Dunstan flashed him a warning glare, then surprised them all by saying, “Your words are well worth heeding, Ravenshire. On the issue of Lord Havenshire,” he looked at his fellow Witan members, “I suggest we do more investigation.”

Neither Orm or the king was happy with Dunstan’s suggestion, but the archbishop was a powerful figure. Even the king rarely disagreed with him in public.

Dunstan addressed King Thorvald then: “Do I have your word that you will make Lady Havenshire available for further questioning if need be?”

King Thorvald hesitated, then nodded, but Caedmon knew there was no chance in hell that Vana would come back on Saxon soil once she was gone.

“The last thing we are to discuss is Caedmon’s hasty betrothal to Lady Breanne,” the king said.

Caedmon and Thorvald both tried to speak at the same time. Caedmon won. “There has never been a formal betrothal, just talk of one.”

“By the runes! That matters not. My daughter will be betrothed only when I say so.” Thorvald glanced at Caedmon. “No offense, but I know nothing of you and your affections for Breanne. You are aware she has this tiny little quirk.”

Dost mean she likes to brush her naked breasts against my chest hairs. Caedmon grinned. “Dost refer to her woodworking skills?”

“For a certainty. She cannot be left alone for even one day without building something. We have more benches at Stoneheim than we have people to sit on them.”

Ravenshire cleared his throat. “Uh, could we go on here?”

“Listen,” King Edgar said to King Thorvald, “you surely understand that noble marriages are arranged here for political reasons. Favors granted. Adjoining estates. Pacts with other nations. And, yea, Caedmon, your estate is small compared to some, but we believe there is merit in your remarrying some Saxon lady who brings profit or merit.”

To the crown, Caedmon finished for him.

“I know what you mean,” Thorvald said. “That is true in the Norselands, as well, but in my family it is different. I have promised each of my daughters that she may choose her own husband…a decision that has come back to bite me in the arse since only two of them have wed, and one of those badly. But that is neither here nor there. It should be noted that their dowries go to them, not their husbands, on marriage. Unless they choose to gift their husbands.”

“Will you at least put off the betrothal ceremony, if there is to be one, until we can discuss a certain widow we had in mind for you?” Dunstan asked Caedmon.

“What widow?” Caedmon eyed the king and Dunstan with suspicion.

Reluctantly, Edgar told him, “Lady Helen of Lockhaven. She brings two castles, many hectares of land, and a good annual profit from her sheep.”

“Whaaat? She is more than forty…closer to fifty.” And homely as the back end of a hog. Not to mention the sheep smell that followed her everywhere.

Geoff was scarce hiding his mirth beside him, but Caedmon considered it no laughing matter.

“All the more reason for it to be a good match,” Dunstan opined, “since you have said on more than one occasion that you have too many children already.”

King Thorvald leaned forward on his bench to address Caedmon over the two people between them. “You do not intend to have any more children? Well, that does it then. No betrothal with my daughter. If naught else, my daughters owe me a grandson. I am sick to death of an all-female household.”

For some reason, Thorvald’s dismissal of him as a prospective groom cut deep. He should not have been offended, but he was.

“Have you been dallying with my daughter?” Thorvald asked of a sudden.

What exactly is dallying? Less than swiving, I would wager.

“Nay,” Caedmon lied.

“Well, do not, lest you want at least five more children.”

Whaaat?

Geoff chuckled and pretended to be counting on his fingers, up to fifteen, counting this current five.

“Never!” Caedmon mouthed silently to Geoff.

“Definitely,” Thorvald insisted, having interpreted their silent exchange.

Everyone started talking at once.