My Lord Viking (31 page)

     
Again he swept her against the hard line of his body.
 
He pressed his mouth against the sweaty stickiness along her neck.
 
“You taste wondrous,
unnasta
.”
 

     
“You should not...We should go back to the house.”
 
A rumble of thunder was nearly drowned out by her raging pulse as he bent to let his lips follow the path his finger had.

     
With a moan, she curved her hands up his back, only realizing he had released her arm when her fingers splayed across his hard muscles.
 
She gasped his name when his mouth moved along her bodice.
 
When he put his hand on her sleeve and began to lower it along her arm, she stared up into his fathomless eyes that blazed with savage, primitive emotions.
 
Knowing she should look away, she could not.
 
Being dishonest in his arms was something she could not conceive of.
 
She wanted to be swept into this wild rhapsody of rapture.
 
She closed her eyes when he pulled her even closer before bending to let his fiery tongue glide along the curve of her breast.
 

     
She clasped his face between her hands.
 
Bringing his mouth to hers, she feasted on his lips.
 
His fingers tangled in her hair, but she barely noticed.
 
Every sense was centered on his kiss and the spot where his bare chest pressed against her skin that had been moistened by his kiss.
 

     
Light flashed.
 
Thunder shook the shore so hard that the ground rumbled beneath Linnea’s feet.
 
With a gasp, she stepped away.
 
Nils whirled her back against him as the storm swirled around them.
 
No tempest flinging itself upon the sea could be as strong as the fired winds of passion surrounding them.
 

     
When lightning struck the water not far from where they stood, Nils whispered, “Where can we find shelter?”

     
“The house—”

     
“At the house, we cannot continue
this
.”
 
His fingers stroked her breast.

     
Rain slashed at them before she could answer.
 
With a gasp, she ran along the shore to retrieve her bonnet as it skittered away before the wind.
 
She laughed when Scamp caught it before she could.
 
Taking it from the puppy, she put it on her already soaked hair.
 

     
She turned and discovered Nils just behind her.
 
He said nothing.
 
He did not move.
 
The choice was all hers.
 
He had made up his mind.
 

     
“My family will be anxious,” she said, looking up at him through the rain.

     
“That you are out in this storm or that you are out in this storm with me?”

     
She grasped his strong forearms that were now covered with the dark wool of his coat sleeves.
 
“You are here in order to preserve your family’s honor.
 
Would you have me dishonor my family?”

     
“There is no dishonor in wanting us to be one.”

     
“In this time, there is for me.”

     
He started to reply, then his arm slipped around her shoulders.
 
She was startled when he set his coat over her drenched gown to protect her from the blustery wind swirling the rain.
 
The odor of wet wool surrounded her, but it was not unpleasant because the coat also held his scent.
 
He turned her toward the path leading back to the house.
 

     
“We will return to your father’s house,” he whispered.
 
“We will reassure them that you are unharmed.”
 
His rakish smile returned as he climbed up on the rocks and offered his hand to assist her up.
 
When she stood beside him, he said, “Once we have shown them you are safe, surely your father will feel obligated to repay me for protecting his daughter.”

     
“Papa will be grateful.”
 
She watched her footing as she went from rock to rock.
 
Stepping onto the path, she waited for Nils to do the same.

     
He jumped down from a boulder and swung her up against him.
 
“I can think of no better way for him to repay me then by agreeing for you to stay with me tonight.”

     
“I do not think he will be
that
grateful.”

     
“And what of you,
unnasta
?”

     
Linnea pulled out of his arms again, although she wanted to remain there.
 
“I did not think you would wish me to feel anything as tepid as gratitude.”

     
“I want you to savor every emotion as I savor every bit of you.”
 
He captured her face in his hands and kissed her hard.
 
“Come to my bed tonight,
unnasta
.”

     
“Tonight?”

     
“Why not?”
 

     
“Nils...”
 
Her voice trailed away, as she could not tell him no when her heart shouted that she accept.
 
“If it were possible...”

     
He laughed.
 
“It is very possible.”

     
“Not now.
 
Not with me.”
 
She put her hand up to his face, then flinched as the lightning exploded across the sky again.
 

     
Without speaking, he took her hand and ran with her along the path toward the house.
 
Scamp raced after them, barking with excitement.
 
She faltered as she stepped into a puddle. Nils laughed again.
 
Sweeping her up into his arms, he continued up the path.

     
“I can walk...or run,” she protested.

     
“If you will not stay with me tonight, I shall not let this moment pass without taking advantage of every opportunity to hold you.”

     
“You are insane.”

     
“You are not the first in this house to think so.”

     
She looked hastily away.
 
If she did not know better, she would begin to think that he could hear through closed doors and read the thoughts that only she was privy to.
 
She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his brawny shoulder.
 
On this one thing, she had to agree with him.
 
To let this chance pass unsavored would be wrong.

     
When the rain stopped striking the brim of her bonnet, Linnea opened her eyes.
 
Voices came from every direction as Nils set her on her feet in the center of the foyer.
 

     
“Linnea!”
 

     
She looked up to see Papa coming down the stairs at a speed that would have earned her a reprimand.
 

     
“Linnea!
 
My dear girl!
 
Look at you!”
 
Her father hugged her close.
 
“We were so fearful for you when the storm blew up and no one knew where you were.”

     
“
Niles
brought me home from the shore.”
 

     
When Lord Sutherland grabbed Nils’s hand with both hands, Linnea was amazed to see tears glistening in Papa’s eyes.
 
“I am so grateful to you,
Barrington
, for watching over my daughter.
 
I thank whatever
Providence
that brought you to
Sutherland
Park
now.”

     
“It was my pleasure,” Nils said, smiling.

     
Linnea avoided his eyes.
 
Papa would be shocked to discover that the force that had swirled Nils forward in time had been created by Freya and Loki.
 
She put her hand to her head.
 
Was she beginning to deem all of this silliness to be the truth?
 
She wondered how she could accept that Nils was from the past and still question what he believed was true.

     
“By Jove, you should have heeded your wife, Sutherland,” said a man who was coming down the stairs at a much more sedate pace.
 
“She said your daughter knew enough to come in out of the rain.”

     
“Barely, I am afraid,” Linnea replied.

     
Her father put his arm around her shoulders.
 
“Linnea, this is Dr. Varian Foster, who has just arrived from
York
.
 
Foster, my youngest.”

     
Linnea held out her hand.
 
Seeing water dripping from it, she shook it before offering it again, “May I add my belated welcome to
Sutherland
Park
, Dr. Foster?”

     
“Thank you.”

     
Her father grinned.
 
“Dr. Foster, this is
Niles
, Lord Barrington.
 
I know you have been waiting anxiously to talk with him.”

     
“With me?” Nils asked, his eyes widening.
 
“Why?”

     
“Dr. Foster is an expert in the study of the Vikings.
 
He is very eager to speak with you about all you know.”

Sixteen

     
Linnea stiffened as she glanced at Nils.
 
An expert on Vikings?
 
Here?
 
Now?
 
For the first time, she was tempted to believe that what Nils had told her about Loki was true.
 
Only a vengeful god could have orchestrated Dr. Foster’s arrival at this time.
 

     
She shook such thoughts out of her head.
 
Indulging in such silliness would betray them more quickly than anything else.
 
But the same question heckled her.
 
How could she believe that Nils was from the past and yet discount the fact that any other aspects of his time might have slipped with him forward to her time.

     
Nils’s smile did not waver, but she recognized the glint in his eyes.
 
She had seen it on the shore when she found him injured.
 
It had been there as well each time he spoke of the past and the battles he had fought and the vow he had made.
 
Although she doubted if Papa or Dr. Foster took notice of that dangerous shimmer, she tensed.
 

     
“I would be honored to speak with you at your convenience,” Nils said with a bow of his head toward Dr. Foster.
 
“I am glad to meet someone who shares my interest in that subject.”
 
Smiling at Linnea as if there were nothing amiss, he added, “Linnea has proven to be an apt listener when I speak of that time in history.”

     
Dr. Foster chuckled.
 
“It is a unique woman who is fascinated with such an intellectual subject.”

     
“You will find that my daughter is quite unique.”
 
Papa gave her shoulders a squeeze.

     
“Thank you, Papa.”
 
She kissed his cheek, wishing she could confide in him.
 
She had missed his good counsel in this puzzling situation, because she had always been able to ask for his insight before this.
 
“If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I shall change from these soaked clothes before Mrs. Gerber grows more upset about me dripping on her freshly mopped floors.”

     
“Do not fret about that,” her father replied.
 
“Go up to your rooms, and I will have hot water sent for you.
 
You do not want to take a chill.”

     
She nodded.
 
Going to the foot of the stairs, she put her hand on the newel post and turned.
 
“Papa—”

     
“Do not fret, child.
 
I shall have Mrs. Gerber make sure there is enough hot water for Lord Barrington as well.
 
You know that
Sutherland
Park
treats our guests as family.”

     
When Dr. Foster laughed and added something, Linnea paid no attention to his words.
 
She tried to catch Nils’s gaze.
 
He seemed totally engrossed in the conversation.
 
Knowing that she could not loiter here like a naughty child eavesdropping on her elders, she slowly put her foot on the first riser.
 

     
Its faint squeak, so commonplace that she had not noticed it in years, must have caught Nils’s ear.
 
He glanced toward her, and the memory left by the heat of his kisses surged through her anew even though he turned back to answer a question she had not heard Dr. Foster ask.
 

     
She took the glow of Nils’s amethyst eyes with her as she climbed the stairs.
 
Storing the memory in the most treasured section of her heart, she began to strip off Nils’s coat as soon as she had closed her bedroom door.
 

     
Olive came forward to help.
 
She said nothing, which warned Linnea that her maid was not at all pleased with the results of this afternoon’s walk.
 
When Olive stamped about the room as if she were trying to rid it of crawling insects, Linnea was as silent.
 
Anything she said could be the wrong thing.
 
If she showed too much interest in who Dr. Foster was and what he was doing here
now
, she would arouse Olive’s curiosity.
 

     
Although she would have liked to linger in the warm bath, Linnea redressed quickly.
 
She twisted her wet hair at her nape and nodded when Olive asked if she would like some hot chocolate to chase away any residual chill.

     
Linnea waited until her maid had left, then slipped out of her room.
 
She clung to the shadows left by the storm as she walked along the corridor.
 
Hearing Lady Sutherland’s voice from the floor below, Linnea hurried toward the guest wing.
 
She did not want her mother to guess where she was going.
 

     
Her own words to Nils on the shore returned to taunt her.
 
If she was discovered sneaking to Nils’s room, she would destroy the Sutherland family’s reputation as well as her own.
 
She knew that, but she must speak with Nils when no one else could hear.
 

     
Reaching his door, she knocked quietly.
 
She waited, then knocked again.
 
When Jack did not answer it, she looked both ways along the hall before opening it.
 

     
She froze when she heard a voice within.
 
Nils was talking to someone.
 
Jack?
 
If so, why hadn’t Jack come to the door when she knocked?
 
Jack was taking his duties as Nils’s valet very seriously.
 
Mayhap Nils was giving him a list of instructions, and Jack was concentrating on that instead of her knock.
 

     
Her eyes widened when she realized Nils was not speaking English.
 
He must be mad!
 
If someone overheard him...

     
A finger tapped her shoulder.

     
Linnea nearly bumped into a table by the door as she whirled to see who was behind her.
 
She pressed her hand over her frantic heart when she saw Jack’s quizzical expression.
 
“You startled me!” she said.

     
“Forgive me, my lady.”
 
He rubbed one foot against the back of his other leg.
 
“I just wanted to give you a warning.”

     
She looked past him, scanning the corridor.
 
It appeared empty, but someone could have seen her skulking here.
 

     
“He does this often,” Jack went on.

     
“He?”

     
“Lord Barrington.
 
He talks to himself like that a lot.
 
‘Tis strange, because he uses funny words that sometimes sound like English and sometimes sound like gibberish.”
 
He stared at the floor.
 
“I watched one time, and he kept looking at the window and talking.”

     
“All the time?”

     
“No.”

     
“Jack!”
 
She remembered what Olive had told her about how Jack was distressed that Nils was acting oddly.
 
Mayhap it had not been just gossip.
 
She had to know for sure.
 
“Please tell me.
 
It might be something left over from his injuries.”

     
“Do you think so?”
 
The lad’s smile returned.
 
“You may be right about that, my lady.
 
He did take quite a blow to his head.”

     
Linnea listened by the door.
 
“Whatever it is, he has stopped now.
 
While I speak with him, bring some wine to take away the chill.”

     
“Olive said she was bringing hot chocolate.”
 
His eyes twinkled.

     
“For me.
 
Lord Barrington will prefer something stronger,” she replied with a smile.
 
Olive might be reluctant to play a part in this charade, but Jack reveled in every minute of it.
 

     
Jack turned, then paused.
 
“Almost forgot.
 
This came for you.”
 
He pulled a crumpled page out of his pocket.

     
“Thank you.”
 
Linnea’s smile tumbled away as she opened the folded sheet to see
Randolph
’s scrawl.
 
He would be calling soon.
 
Blast!
 
She did not need the problem of him pestering her for an answer as well.
 

     
“Anything I can do, my lady?”

     
She patted Jack’s shoulder.
 
He had been such a good ally through all this.
 
“Get the wine for Lord Barrington.”

     
Although she suspected he would have preferred her to ask him to slay some mighty dragon or take on some other great task, he nodded.
 

     
Linnea drew in a steadying breath as she knocked again on the door and pushed it a bit farther open.
 
“
Niles
?”

     
“Come in.”

     
Slipping past the door, she drew it closed behind her.
 
She looked about but did not see him.
 
“
Niles
?”

     
“Here,” said Nils as he stepped out of the bathing room.
 
He wore black breeches but nothing else.
 
The dark color accented his bronzed skin and drew her eyes from his tawny hair.
 
Her gaze swept down along his strong chest that had been so enticing against her skin.
 
“I thought you would have been calling before now.”

     
“We must talk.”
 
She clasped her hands behind her back.
 
Did he know that the topmost button on his breeches remained undone?
 
A flame coursed up her face, and she tried to submerge the myriad of emotions flooding her.
 
She told herself that nothing mattered except Dr. Foster who might see the truth about Nils Bjornsson that no one else had.
 

     
“I suspected you would wish to.”
 

     
“Now that you are done speaking with whomever you were talking to before.”

     
His good humor vanished as his brows lowered in his most forbidding expression.
 
Seizing her arm, he pulled her closer.
 
“You heard that?”

     
“I heard you speaking.”

     
“Did you see anything?”

     
She tried to pull her arm away.
 
When he released her, she was amazed enough to blurt out, “I did not peek into your bathing room if that is what you are asking.”

     
“I know that.”
 
His laugh was as stiff as his lips.
 
“If that had been true, you would be that most alarming shade of a new sailor cooked red by the sun on his first voyage.”
 
He finished buttoning his breeches as casually as if he always dressed in her presence.
 
“The color you are now, Linnea.”