Surrender My Love (26 page)

Garrick had to put a hand to his own mouth to hide his chuckles. Below, Ragnar was holding a hand to his ear, but he still hadn’t been able to catch her words. He tried twice more to get their talk going, but though her lips moved, no sound reached him.

At last out of patience, he moved his destrier forward, directly below the wall, to demand, “Can you hear me
now
, Lady Kristen?”

She leaned slightly forward over the wall so he couldn’t miss her smile. “Certainly, Lord Ragnar. And it was good of you to come. After all, circumstances have changed somewhat since last we spoke.”

“I thought they might.” Smugness, which grated. “Is my sister being sent out?”

Kristen’s smile didn’t alter. “Nay, but you may come safely inside now and be welcome.”

“And what makes that offer any more appealing than when I last rejected it?”

“We are now related—through marriage.”

It took him all of two seconds to grasp the meaning of that and explode. “What have you done? If you have forced her to wed him—”

“On the contrary,” she cut in, her tone still quite pleasant. “Erika looked quite willing to me. But you need not take my word for it. You can ask her yourself.”

“Where is she?”

“Likely still abed.” His face went florid at that. Kristen rubbed it in a bit harder. “Did
I forget to mention yesterday that your sister and my brother have become enamored of each other?”

“You spoke only of his revenge.”

“And would you not agree it was a fine revenge, making her fall in love with him? Unfortunately, he got caught in it himself.”

“You are lying!”

“Actually, ’twas just yesterday, before your arrival, that my own mother caught them—well, let us say neither one of them was screaming for help.”

“
Neither
one? You would have me believe your brother would object to—!” He could not finish. He was at that moment so exasperated by impotent fury that he could have pulled every one of his hairs out—and strangled Lady Kristen.

“You may discuss with your sister the how and the why, Lord Ragnar. The fact remains, she is a member of my family now, my own sister-in-law. She was wed last eventide, with much pomp and ceremony. The celebration lasted long into the night. Mayhap you could hear it?”

He was glaring up at her as if he would like to cut her into little pieces. “She would not marry without my permission,” he gritted out.

“She did not need yours when she had permission from a king—his insistence, actually.”

Ragnar flushed several shades of red; then, quite suddenly, all color left him with the implications of that last statement. “The Saxon king is within and you did not tell me?”

Kristen merely shrugged. “His presence here was unrelated to the issue.”

Unrelated? He had besieged the King of Wessex. If Guthrum heard of it, Ragnar would know his wrath, and he had this vixen here to thank for that.

Kristen judged his expression accurately and added, “Alfred was to leave Wyndhurst today. As our two kings are presently on very good terms, I will assume you will likewise wish to keep him from becoming any more involved in this and grant him safe passage.”

“Certainly,” Ragnar said quickly and with obvious relief. “He may leave at any time.”

“You might like to assure him of that yourself when you come inside. And I suppose I must repeat, you may do so safely now, because of our new relationship. However, if you are still distrustful, my younger brother Thorall has volunteered to come out to abide in your camp the while you visit with your sister. I would have offered to be hostage for you myself, but my husband is a jealous man. He would not permit me to go among so many Vikings. So what say you, Ragnar Haraldsson?”

“Open your gates, lady.”

Chapter 32

“T
ELL ME HOW
he forced you.”

Those were Ragnar’s first words to Erika after he had squeezed the breath from her in their mutual hugging. Hers had been, “I think you should not have left me home alone this time.” But then, she was so close to tears, she had to say something that might make him laugh. It didn’t work.

They had been given the privacy of the small chapel. She had joined him there immediately she was told of his presence. But she had never gotten around to giving any thought to what she would tell him. She had instead been so immersed in thoughts of her husband that she had even forgotten there was a possibility she might speak with Ragnar today.

The tears remained near the surface and likely would, because she was so happy to see Ragnar. She had begun to think she never would again. But there was her confusion, too, and she couldn’t even speak of it to him. And there was his concern, so evident, and knowing she must lie to him. She had never had to lie to him before.

She led him to one of the pews to sit with her, and took his hands in hers before she said, with as much conviction as she could manage, “I was not forced.”

“Erika—”

“Nay, hear me out. I considered many things, even that you wanted a strong alliance for me, and this one is indeed that. His brother-in-law is a warrior lord here, and a friend of the Saxon king. His father is a rich merchant prince. His uncle is a powerful
jarl
in Norway, and he himself commands many men, every one a Viking warrior. For an alliance, brother, you could not have hoped for better.”

“I would not have sacrificed you for it!”

“I know, and I do not feel I have sacrificed myself. Ragnar, if I did not want to marry the man, I would have refused.”

Sweet Freya, why did that sound so true? And why didn’t he simply believe her, instead of still looking so doubtful? She found out why.

“Turgeis told me all that happened. This man took you to harm you.”

“But he never did, and I—” She lowered her head, hoping he would just think her embarrassed to admit, “I have come to care for him.”

“Why?”

The directness of that question caught her off guard. She almost laughed. She did grin. A woman would never have asked that.

She answered by asking, “Have you not met him?”

“Met him?” Ragnar growled. “I saved his miserable life in the last war.”

Her expression turned incredulous, and rightly so. “How is that possible? He fought with the Danes?”

“He was with the Saxons,” Ragnar said in disgust. “Helmeted, with Danish coming from his lips. I assumed—wrongly. Even when I saw that black hair of his after I had dragged him from the field and bandaged his wounds, I still thought him a Dane. And he let me think it. I knew no differently until I saw him again yesterday.”

Yesterday. Selig knew yesterday it was her brother he owed his life to, and still he threatened him? Had that been a bluff, too?

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell all when it occurred to her that what could have been a bluff yesterday might not be one now. There was a very great difference, after all, between letting go a prisoner and letting go a wife. If her brother insisted on a fight, and he would if he knew the truth, Selig would meet him. And she hated to admit it, but Ragnar, even at six feet, was a much smaller man. Ragnar facing Selig would be like Selig facing Turgeis. The outcomes were almost guaranteed. She still had to lie.

He lifted her chin in his palm to draw her attention back to him. “What has my meeting him to do with your caring for him, Erika?”

“You must admit he is a fine-looking man. I find it difficult to take my eyes off him when he is near me.” That much was perfectly true,
which was probably why her cheeks started glowing when she added, “His attraction is quite powerful.” That, unfortunately, was also true.

“You are saying you married the man because of his handsomeness?”

She hated putting herself in with that shallow group who cared only for looks, but Ragnar might better accept that as a reason for such sudden “caring.” So she settled for merely elaborating on that point, and it helped that she could be truthful about it.

“His handsomeness began the attraction, which I felt when I first saw him at Gronwood. It was because of it that I was so rattled I lost my temper and ordered him lashed. You cannot begin to know how much I regret that.” And
that
was especially true. “Now, did you find a wife?”

He frowned at her change of topic and waved it aside. “I cannot think of that now.”

“But I need to think of something other than this. Did you?”

He pounced. “So you
are
upset?”

“I am upset by
your
upset,” she insisted, and suddenly the words flowed from her without any difficulty. “I know you did not come here and expect to find me wed and willingly so, but, Ragnar, I simply could not help falling in love with this man. I tried to resist it. Selig tried, too. He wanted so much to hate me. And it endeared him to me, that he tried so hard, but could not. He wanted revenge, aye. That is the reason I was taken. But he found he is
incapable of exacting revenge from a woman. Can you imagine his frustration, to end up in love with me instead?”

For a moment Ragnar did, and had the urge to laugh. With it came his relief, now that she had said something that sounded reasonable—and more like her.

Still, he had to ask, “Are you sure ’tis not guilt guiding you?”

She had stopped feeling guilty the day Selig put those damned chains on her, but she couldn’t tell her brother that. What she still regretted was giving Selig a reason to despise her, because it didn’t look like she was ever going to be forgiven for it.

So she lied again. “I am forgiven, so there is no longer guilt to trouble me.”

His eyes searched hers for a long moment before he sighed. “Are you really asking me to leave you here with him?”

This was her most difficult answer to give. She wanted so much to go home. She wanted her life returned to normal. She was tired of the anger and confusion, and being attracted to a man she didn’t dare love.

“Aye,” she said, and swore to herself it would be the last lie she would ever tell him.

Chapter 33

S
ELIG CAME AWAKE
at the third shaking. His hands went immediately to his temples.

“Thor’s teeth, did someone hit me over the head again?” he groaned.

“You have yourself to thank this time—and my excellent ale.”

“Is that you, Kris?”

“Why do you not open your eyes and see for yourself?” she queried.

“I would as soon not. I sense too much light even with them closed.”

Kristen shook her head at him. Amusement was high in her tone. “So this is what marriage has led you to?”

Another groan. “How could I forget?”

His eyes did open now, the barest crack, but not to look at his sister. His head turned directly to the corner where Erika could usually be found. That it was empty did not cause any undue alarm—yet.

“Where is she?”

“Speaking with her brother in the chapel.”

His eyes flared wide and came accusingly to Kristen now. “And no one woke me?”

He started to sit up, but something dragged him back down. Erika’s chains, wrapped around his neck. He only vaguely recalled one of the servants telling him he had found them out in the bailey. Selig had hung them around his neck for want of somewhere else to put them, since he hadn’t been willing at the time to go near his chamber.

“No one woke you because you were not needed,” Kristen was explaining. “If she is to convince her brother that you are not the miserable wretch who has kept her chained nearly to your side, it cannot be with you standing close to intimidate her.”

He didn’t address the part about the chains, merely grumbled, “I do not intimidate her.”

“Her brother would not see it that way.”

He tossed off the chains and tried sitting up again. He couldn’t move as fast as he wanted, not when the pain from his overindulgence was almost as bad as that first morning he awoke with the head injury. Yet what he was feeling could only be called panic.

“Did you at least place a spy to hear what she tells him?” he demanded.

Kristen’s brows shot up. “When only you, me, and Father can speak their language?
You
might not mind asking Father to spy for you, but I would not be so daring.”

“
You
should have seen to the task yourself.”

“Me?” she exclaimed. “I did my part by getting the man well and truly furious with me. He ought to like you now in comparison.”

He gave her a glare. She was just short of laughing at him. And the only effort she made to help him was to fetch his comb for him. He wasn’t even going to try changing the clothes he had fallen asleep in.

When he was just about out the door, she ventured to ask, “Do you still hate her?”

He spared a moment to glance back at her. “Why do you ask me that again?”

Kristen shrugged. “Because you married her. That is carrying revenge a bit far, if you ask me.”

“Stay out of it, Kris.”

She tsked her tongue. “Gladly, just as soon as a certain arrogant jackdaw is gone from my home.”

He winced. “I am not arrogant.”

“I meant
her
brother, lackwit, not mine.”

Selig found them still alone in the chapel, sitting side by side, their voices too soft for him to overhear, even though he eavesdropped for a while, hoping to hear something. Ragnar’s arm was around her shoulder. Erika’s head rested against his. This was her brother. Still, Selig had the urge to remove that arm from her.

“I trust you have had a pleasant reunion?”

Erika turned at the sound of his voice. Ragnar came abruptly to his feet. His expression revealed nothing, so Selig had no clue to what he had been told. Her expression was anxious, which could have meant anything, including she was still fearful for her brother.

Selig
had
stopped by the smith long enough to collect his new sword. He wore it now, though without armor, for he still wore the clothes he had been married in. Erika was likewise still in her finery. As he didn’t recall getting to his bed last night, he didn’t recall noticing if she had been in his chamber when he did, much less if she had removed her clothes or slept in them like he did.