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Paying the Viking's Price
Edith raised her fist. ‘I will do it. I will succeed. Or die in the attempt.’
Chapter Three
‘What are you contemplating, Lady Edith? You appear lost in your thoughts.’
Brand’s rich voice caused Edith to jump. He stood far too close to where she rested in the alcove. Where had he come from? And how much had he overheard? For a large man, he moved silently. She bit her lip. She’d have to remember that. Egbert had always announced his presence with heavy walking and a litany of complaints.
‘I was resting.’ Edith forced her hands to stay calmly in her lap, rather than gesturing wildly. Hilda’s story about Brand’s mother trying to kill him had to be a wild fantasy. No one surely could be that wicked. ‘The day has been traumatic for me. My entire life has been altered and it isn’t even midday. It has given me something to contemplate.’
‘You regret your decision now that you have had time to consider your position? You wish to leave for the nunnery, but worry about summoning the courage to inform me?’
The sun made it impossible for her to see his eyes. All she knew was that he wanted her to give up and admit defeat. That wasn’t going to happen. Retreating would be a defeat, not only for her but for everyone she cared about. Despite what Hilda thought, she could be a concubine even to a man like Brand Bjornson.
‘Not in the slightest.’ Edith tilted her chin upwards and met his penetrating blue gaze full on. ‘Were you searching for me? Has something happened?’
His dark blond hair fell in disarray about his shoulders and he’d shed his axe and overtunic, but that only emphasised the way his shirt clung to his chest. She was more aware than ever of the power in his shoulders. He was most definitely not a man to cross lightly. ‘Nothing unexpected.’
The strange warm tingling feeling invaded her body. This was the man she would have to play the concubine with, if she could. Her heart sank. Hilda was right. What had she been thinking of? The enormity of the task crashed into her. She should have taken the easy route out and saved her own skin. What if she didn’t please him? What would happen to everyone then?
‘It is good to know.’
He tilted his head to one side. ‘Did you think something would be wrong?’
‘Why should there be?’ She hurriedly smoothed her skirts and her hand touched the circlet of keys that she always wore. The tiny action gave her courage. She was doing it for her home. The keys were a comfort. She had them and it meant certain things were safe and hidden.
‘You are very quick with your answer.’ He regarded her with speculative eyes.
‘How long have you been standing there?’ she asked with a faint breathless catch in her voice, swallowed hard and tried again. This time her voice sounded firmer. ‘Is there something you require?’
‘Long enough.’
Edith rubbed the back of her neck. He’d overheard her conversation with Hilda, but she had to hope it was only the tail end. ‘It’s been a tiring day and your men will need to be fed. I have to make sure the servants understand the new situation. I wish to keep the incidents to a minimum.’
‘It is kind of you to be concerned, but my concubine doesn’t give the orders to any member of the household. She exists only to please me.’
Edith pursed her lips together—a subtle way of saying she lacked power. ‘I’d considered ordering a feast was pleasing to the master.’
She hated how the word stuck in her throat and how the sound of it brought home the precariousness of her position. She was little better than a shackled slave.
He raised his eyebrow. ‘It is good that you so readily acknowledge who I am. I had wondered if you would have to learn a hard lesson.’
‘I’ve never been a concubine before.’
A ghost of a smile flickered in the corner of his mouth. ‘I’d never have guessed, my lady.’
‘Spare the laughter and jest. I fail to find the joke amusing.’
‘Perish the thought.’ He inclined his head, but the twinkle in his eye deepened, turning his irises to the colour of the sky after weeks of grey cloud. A blue so vivid it hurt to look at it. ‘Maybe a little, but I enjoy teasing my women. But I remain serious about our bargain. I want you, Edith of Breckon, in my bed.’
Edith concentrated on a spot just above his shoulder, rather than gazing into his eyes. His woman. One of many? She could well imagine the sort of women they were. She had experienced Egbert’s parade and found positions and marriages for them after Egbert discarded them, so they wouldn’t suffer humiliation.
‘You should know that I am not very good at being a decorative object.’ She allowed her mouth to turn upwards. ‘I’ve never seen the point of flirtatious teasing.’
‘You’ll have to learn.’
‘I’m far too practical. If I see a thing that needs doing, I do it. I like to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied.’
‘But not with spinning. My men uncovered a number of broken whorls from the hall. Do they have a purpose?’
‘Spinning is not my best skill,’ Edith conceded with a shrug. Explaining about Hilda’s drama of this morning was beyond her. ‘I do try, but my mind wanders and the tread tangles. I prefer writing and reading.’
‘Unlike the woman who just left for the kitchen.’ His eyes flashed with barely concealed contempt. ‘I do not believe she makes a good scullery maid. Her dress is far too fine and her accent refined.’
Edith’s breath stopped in her lungs. He’d seen Hilda and her embroidered gown and guessed. Who wouldn’t? There was just something about the way Hilda moved. She attracted men like honeycomb attract the flies.
‘She was my late husband’s mistress,’ she admitted, dipping her head as her stomach clenched. Had she inadvertently delivered her cousin to another man’s bed? She felt sick. ‘Your men unnerved her. She had a traumatic time two summers ago and saw things no one, especially not a gently bred lady, should see. I thought it was for the best if she went to the kitchen and helped out there until I found something better for her.’
‘And you allow this former mistress a place here? Give her charity? Is that how you take your revenge?’ Something akin to disgust flared in his eyes, but was quickly masked.
‘Where else could she go? She is my distant kinswoman. I have a duty towards her.’ Edith pinched the bridge of her nose. The last thing she wanted to explain was how guilty and powerless she’d felt when Egbert made Hilda his mistress as if some of it was her fault. She’d promised Hilda that she’d be safe. But Egbert had seduced Hilda, promising her the moon. Before he’d left, she’d started to experience Hilda’s tantrums at being ignored and Egbert’s bad temper.
‘Not many women would be as generous as you.’
‘Hilda had little choice when my husband’s eye lighted upon her.’ Edith shrugged and hoped that he wouldn’t guess the pain she’d suffered because of it. The marriage had been one of duty. She had no right to expect anything, but she’d hoped that a sort of friendship might emerge. It never did. And she wasn’t cold or unfeeling as Egbert had claimed. She did feel things deeply. ‘I’d planned to send her away once things quieted down, marry her off to a farmer, but it will not be my choice now.’
‘Whose choice will be it?’
She made a careful curtsy and her keys jangled. The tiny sound comforted her. She might be a concubine, but she had privileges. ‘Why, yours as you are the new lord.’
His entire body stilled. ‘Are you always that involved with your household? Ordering their lives?’
‘Someone has to care for their welfare, but Hilda is my kinswoman and merits extra-special care. We share a grandmother. She lacks a dowry and everyone knows about her former position. It limits her marriage prospects.’
‘And what does she do here when she is not being a scullery maid? What does she prefer to do?’
Edith bit her lip, thinking quickly. Confessing about Hilda’s hatred and fear of the Norsemen would be a bad idea. She had to find a way to protect Hilda. She’d given her word that Hilda would not have to go into the hall today. In a few days’ time, she might feel differently and Edith could bring her back into the main household. ‘She works in the kitchens now. She prefers it that way.’
‘So then, this is the way you take your revenge?’ His face became colder than the moors on a winter’s day.
She squared her shoulders. Brand Bjornson did not need a further explanation. He’d already humiliated her enough for one day. ‘Hilda asked for the position. It suits her needs.’
‘No doubt she did.’ His mouth became a cynical white line. ‘Make sure she appears at the feast. In her best gown.’
‘Is that an order?’
His long fingers clenched at his side as if they were searching for the axe he’d carried earlier so he could bury it in her head. ‘If you will not do it any other way, then, yes, consider it an order. Seeing two Northumbrian women enjoying themselves will do much to allay the fears of the people who farm this place.’
‘Very well, I will inform her.’ Edith put a hand to her head. With each passing breath she knew her impulsive decision to accept his offer was more of a disaster waiting to happen than an inspiration. She touched her keys and drew strength. He wouldn’t stay. She would regain her position. ‘No more kitchens for my cousin.’
‘In future, leave the ordering of the household to me. No more giving disagreeable tasks to people you dislike.’ He held out his hand. ‘I will have your keys as well. You will have no need of them. The food shall be kept under my control.’
Edith struggled to gulp a breath of air. Those keys had hung from her waist ever since her mother had died. Without them, she’d be naked and the entire household would cease to function. ‘I’m not used to having idle hands. I am good at the practical things. I know where everything is, what needs to be done and in which order.’
‘Such as?’
‘Seeing to the accounts. I like being efficient and do it every evening. You need not worry. I’m no thief.’ She bit her lip. She had to admit it before they went any further. Seeing Hilda just now and the way she moved brought it home to her. She was no concubine, made for a man’s pleasure. She was the sort of woman that a man married because he had to and she had sufficient dowry. ‘You appear to have the wrong idea about me. I’ve no experience at being a...a concubine, but I can run a household.’
‘I run my own household.’ His tone allowed for no dissent. ‘The keys, Lady Edith. Or do I tear them from your waist?’
He would. The barbarian! Hilda’s story held more than a ring of truth. She could imagine him going berserk on the battlefield and slaughtering indiscriminately. Silently she undid them and placed them in his hand. Suddenly her entire being was lighter, but her waist felt naked and exposed. If anything, the bareness symbolised her new status as a slave. Edith schooled her features. She refused to burst into tears. She should have expected the request earlier.
He weighed the keys carefully and placed them in a pouch that he wore.
‘A large house is different from a warrior’s camp,’ Edith argued. ‘It takes a lifetime to master.’
‘I have a lifetime.’
‘I only wanted to help in case...’
His lip curled. ‘In case I was only fit for the pigsty?’
‘I never said that.’ Silently she prayed he’d see reason. Surely he couldn’t be that blind. He had to know that she could never play love games and that she alone should have control of the keys. Men did not control the keys.
If anything, his face became harder and more unyielding. It was easy to see why the rumours about his ferocity swirled about Northumbria.
‘I know what needs to be done and rest assured I will discover which door each of them unlocks. You will find I learn quickly.’
A shiver crept down her spine. He would discover precisely where she’d hidden everything. Instead of listening to Hilda, she should have been dismantling the key ring and retaining those keys she needed. Hindsight was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
‘And what do you suggest I do? Take up pig-keeping?’ She gave an arched laugh.
A distinctive heat came into his eyes. Bedchamber eyes. ‘It is always good to learn a new skill. You will see flirting will come to you in time. I’ve no intention of forcing you to keep pigs.’
Edith’s throat went dry. She swallowed hastily, trying to ignore the warm tide flowing through her. No man had the right to look that good. ‘A new skill! What sort of skill? And who will teach me? You!’
‘Having second thoughts, my lady? You can beg for the convent if you wish.’ He put his hands behind his head. ‘I might be open to begging.’
‘You know nothing of me.’ She crossed her arms. ‘I gave my word and will endeavour to keep it. I have always done so, regardless of what other people have done.’
‘Then what is the problem?’ He ran a finger down her cheek, sending a delicious shiver throughout her being. She attempted to banish the feeling, but it grew. Edith concentrated on a spot above his shoulder, rather than falling into his gaze again.
‘I merely wanted to warn you of my failings. Personally I have always found it most profitable to employ people where they were best suited.’
He made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. The rest of her speech died on her lips.
‘I assume you know how to play tafl, sing and make amusing conversation?’ he asked in a voice laced with heavy irony. ‘That you are not devoid of culture in the North Riding?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Edith said, tapping her slipper on the ground. How dare the Norseman infer that she was some sort of barely cultured barbarian, instead of him! ‘Those are the things people do in polite society.’
He leant forwards until their foreheads touched. ‘You should have no problem in your new role. Keep in mind that you need to please me and we will get along well. I’m far from ungenerous to those who please me.’
‘But...’
His breath caressed her cheek. ‘You fear we won’t suit. That I will have no idea of your tender sensibilities as I have spent my entire life soldiering and sleeping on the ground rather than on a soft bed. You fear the barbarian.’
Edith shook her head quickly, too quickly. Her body tingled with awareness of him and his proximity to her. She tried to think straight, but all she could think about was the blueness of his eyes, the broadness of his shoulders and the strength in his arms. ‘I hadn’t really considered where you have spent the night. I have no idea of your needs.’
‘Shall I demonstrate? My needs are simple.’ He put his hands on her shoulders, preventing her from moving, even if she wanted to. Edith found her feet had turned to stone, but his touch was oddly gentle rather than rough. A warmth radiated outwards from his fingers, infusing her body.
Edith lifted her chin and met his sardonic gaze. He intended on teaching her a lesson. She shuddered slightly, remembering the lessons that Egbert had taught her and how her body had borne bruises for weeks afterwards. Swallowing hard, she screwed up her eyes and hoped.
‘Don’t be frightened of me,’ he murmured. ‘It won’t hurt. I never hurt my women.’
His mouth descended, brushing hers. Far more gentle than she had considered possible, but firm enough to be there and not her imaginings. Questing and seeking, rather than hard and demanding.
Her eyes flew open and she saw all traces of mockery or sardonic dark humour had vanished.
Her body arched towards him and collided with his hard muscular frame. Her hand reached up and her lips parted slightly. She tasted his lips and the warmth grew within her. She moaned slightly in the back of her throat.
He lifted his head. The kiss was over. He let her go, stepped away and eyed her with a cynical expression.
‘I have found the correct person for the position, despite your protestations.’
Edith knew her breathing was coming a little too quickly and her lips felt far too full. Shame washed over her. She’d done it again, responded inappropriately.
‘What was that supposed to prove?’ she asked, forcing her eyebrow to arch. She hated that her voice sounded breathless.
His lips turned upwards. ‘That you will prove to be an adequate concubine...in time.’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’ She clenched the folds of her skirt with her hand.
‘You don’t? Think on it. No doubt the answer will come to you, Lady Edith.’
* * *
Brand forced his body to remain still and unmoving as he sought to master his emotions. He never chased after a woman. They came to him. Lady Edith might stride away as though he represented the devil incarnate, but there had been something in her kiss. She’d be back, demanding more. He tasted his lips to see if the taste of her mouth lingered or merely the memory of honey-sweet lips.
Women were to be enjoyed for the moment, rather than taken into one’s heart and cherished. He’d seen what happened when you fell in love and bore the scars for daring to love a woman who was destined for his half-brother. Brand absently fingered his neck. He’d learnt his lesson early—never to rely on a woman, particularly one who declares her love in troubled times.
‘You think you’ll win, Lady Edith, but I know your type. You might have a pretty face, but you possess the same steel selfishness that my father’s wife had,’ he said softly, touching the pouch where the keys now resided. She hadn’t wanted to give those up! He would find what each opened and what she sought to keep hidden. Above all she’d learn that he was not to be treated like a fool. ‘You will learn who the master is now. And I will find out exactly what you think is not mine! I will unlock all your secrets.’
‘Ah, there you are, Brand,’ Hrearek said, striding towards him, his craggy features split with a wide grin. ‘You told me to find you when we discovered something hidden. We’ve found a locked storehouse.’
‘You admit I was right.’
‘The gods love you, Brand.’ Hrearek slapped his hand against his trousers. ‘The woman didn’t lie. This is a hugely profitable and well-run estate, even if they have tried to hide it well. You are truly fortunate. How do you do it? Time and again?’
‘The harder I work, the more fortunate I have been. It is the only secret.’
Hrearek frowned. ‘If that is the way you wish to play it, then so be it. I am sure there is more to your success. You must have been born under a lucky star.’
‘It only seems that way now. No one would have said that ten years ago.’
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
‘You should. Now, where is this locked storeroom? Hopefully you have obeyed orders and not forced the door.’
‘How will we get it open?’
‘I have the means. Lady Edith has been most accommodating.’ Brand pulled out the circlet of keys. He didn’t doubt that Lady Edith knew of the stash. Whether or not she was responsible for the estate’s profitability remained to be seen. Keeping it hidden from the casual raider was one thing, but keeping it hidden so that it could be used for another rebellion was quite another. ‘It belongs to me. Show me.’
‘With pleasure.’
* * *
Brand regarded the large quantity of sheep’s wool that Hrearek and his men had found carefully secreted in what looked like a disused hut. The barns and other storage areas had a few bits in them, but this hut possessed a great quantity of wool.
‘You were right, Brand!’ Hrearek exclaimed. ‘Some day you must teach me to read. That witch never mentioned this stash of wool. I listened hard enough and remembered. I don’t trust these Northumbrians. They’d steal and lie quick as you like. You are far too soft. There will be another rebellion unless they know we are the masters with iron fists.’
Brand fingered the wool, good wool which could easily be sold in Jorvik. ‘She expected us to leave after a quick inspection. We were supposed to take her offering and go. She had it completely planned.’
‘She doesn’t know you!’ Hrearek laughed. ‘You have a cunning mind.’
Brand frowned. This haul had been far too easy to find. There was something more here. Had to be. From a distant place in his mind, he recalled his mother explaining how, as a girl in Ireland, her mother had always made sure that any raiders would find some items easily and the family would not lose everything.
Had Lady Edith played the same trick? What was the true reason that she put staying here above her honour? She wasn’t a natural concubine, despite the passion in her kiss. She possessed a calculating mind. He looked forward to playing tafl with her, pitting his wits against hers and unwrapping her many layers. It added to rather than detracted from her appeal. He wondered what she’d be like in bed and why her late husband had deserted it.
‘I want the wool cleared out of here.’ Brand pushed the thought away. Bedding a woman always ended the mystery. It was as simple as that. He should look no further. ‘Find somewhere else to store it.’
‘Why?’ Hrearek widened his eyes. ‘It is safe and there is naught else here. It is absolutely pouring down outside. The wool will get wet.’
‘The wool will be safe enough.’ Brand tapped a finger against his mouth. ‘The Lady Edith has hidden something else here and I mean to find it.’
At his word, his men hauled the wool out of the hut and onto the muddy ground. The final bundle of wool revealed a trapdoor with a lock. Brand fitted several keys before finding the correct one. When he lifted the door the gut-wrenching stench of salt and fish filtered out—salt cod. A most surprising choice.
Financially, salt cod would do Lady Edith no good. It was difficult to transport and easy to acquire. He should know. He’d made a small fortune by transporting the stuff in the last few years. What else was there in that room?
‘Thor’s hammer. What does she want this stuff for?’ Hrearek put his hand over his mouth and started for the open air. ‘It makes me vomit. Let’s go.’
‘To keep intruders away.’ Brand smiled. Lady Edith was not as clever as she thought. ‘We go nowhere but forwards. We find everything. When I am finished, this hall will hold no secrets and this salt cod conceals something big.’
Hrearek stopped. ‘You amaze me, Brand. Even after all these years, your capacity to think ahead never ceases to astonish. Do you remember when we were stuck in Constantinople and you—’
‘Allow me. We need to see what lies behind this salt cod.’ Brand bent down and started to empty the hidden room. He had no time for reminiscences about what had happened. His past was behind him. He’d been lucky rather than clever. Others had died and he’d learnt once again that you could not trust a beautiful woman.
Behind the salt cod stood a short passageway that lead out to the woods. ‘You see, there is more behind.’
Hrearek wiped his hand across his face. ‘We could have been murdered in our beds.’
‘If they had advanced through the salt cod and the wool...’ Brand said drily.
A faint noise sounded outside the hut. Hrearek immediately reached for his sword. Brand shook his head and went out of the hut.
‘Who goes there? Show yourself!’
‘Me, Godwin,’ came a small voice from the trees.
Brand crouched down and held out his hand. ‘What are you doing there?’
‘There are bad men coming. The lady said. I wanted to make sure that they didn’t come through here.’ Godwin gestured towards the hut. ‘The lady told me not to worry, that she’d taken care of it, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.’
‘There is no need to hide. All the bad men are gone. You are safe now. You are under my protection.’
‘And you are?’
‘Brand Bjornson.’
A young boy of no more than seven years came out, dusty and dishevelled. He held out his hand. ‘I will accept your protection.’
