My Lord Viking (38 page)
His fingers entwined with hers as he leaned closer to her.
“It is my creed.”
He yelped when Scamp began digging furiously in the sand, spraying it over him.
When he reached for the puppy, Scamp pulled Linnea’s stockings from the blanket and fled with them.
Linnea laughed as Nils ran after the puppy to retrieve them.
Scamp crisscrossed the sand, leading Nils on a wild chase.
Nils almost caught the puppy, but Scamp squirmed away and sped under the line from Martin’s fishing pole.
Cornering the puppy against the cliffs, Nils scooped him up and brought him back to Linnea.
He dropped Scamp on her lap.
“I will let you extract your stockings from him, so I cannot be accused of ruining them.”
“Thank you.”
“You could thank me more by...”
He smiled at Minnie as she reached over to pat Scamp.
As if there had been no pause, he added, “Telling me, Linnea, where that chilled wine is being kept.”
Although she wished she could have offered him the kisses she guessed he wanted as his reward, she pointed toward the cliffs.
“There is a small stream that runs beneath the overhang.
Martin put the container in the water to keep it cool.”
“Thank you.”
Setting himself on his feet, he said, “I will bring you ladies some wine, if that is your pleasure.”
“Yes,” Minnie said, although Linnea could barely hear her through the thunder rushing through her head.
The pleasure she wanted with Nils had nothing to do with a glass of wine.
It had everything to do with those strong fingers that could be so gentle and his lips that promised such delight.
“He is quite taken with you, Linnea,” said Minnie as Nils walked toward the stream.
“I have noticed that.”
“And you are as taken with him?”
She picked up a stick and hurled it so Scamp could chase after it.
“You are avoiding giving me any answer,” Minnie said.
“Yes.”
Minnie chuckled.
“That single word speaks volumes.”
“
Niles
is here to do his studies, and then he will be leaving.”
She picked up the stick that Scamp brought back to her.
Flinging it toward a large tree to the left, she said, “He has made that clear from the beginning.”
“Good intentions are often changed when love enters into the mix.”
Linnea smiled at her sister-in-law.
“His obligations are very important to him, and I doubt if anyone will waylay him from doing them.
You need not waste your matchmaking on us.”
She hoped Minnie did not notice her shiver of delight when she spoke of Nils and her.
“I am not worried about matchmaking for the two of you.
It seems you have begun on that road yourself.”
Minnie lowered her voice as she glanced at the men.
“I know Martin very much believes that you should be settled in marriage with Lord Tuthill, but I would be glad to speak to Martin to ask him to talk to your father about—”
“You barely know
Niles
!”
“True, but I know Randolph Denner.”
Linnea stared.
She had guessed that Minnie disliked
Randolph
, but not so much that she was willing to try to persuade Martin to change his mind.
“Speak plainly, Minnie,” she begged.
“There is nothing I can say that you do not already know. Lord Tuthill is a fine man, and he would make someone a good husband.
Someone
, Linnea, but not you.”
“I have not told him I will marry him.”
“Good.”
Linnea was astonished anew by Minnie’s fervor, but she said, “Minnie, I need to ask a favor of you.”
“Of course.
You know you need only ask.”
“It is...It is an important favor, and I do not want you to feel uncomfortable if you cannot agree.”
“You appear to be uncomfortable just asking.”
“I am.”
Minnie giggled.
“I have just the dandy.
I will tell you a secret that you must keep to yourself.
That way, you are doing
me
a favor, because I cannot keep this secret to myself any longer, and I should not tell anyone.”
“If you should not tell anyone—”
“But I must!”
She smiled as she grasped Linnea’s hands.
“Oh, do me this favor, Linnea, before I quite burst from having told no one.
If you do me this favor, I shall gladly do whatever you wish.”
Linnea nodded, again overwhelmed by Minnie’s vehemence.
“Of course.
What is your secret?”
Putting her finger to her lips, Minnie leaned forward to whisper, “I am going to have a baby!”
“You are?”
Linnea flung her arms around her sister-in-law.
There had been so many whispered asides about the marriage that had not produced an heir.
Now all the suppositions that Minnie Sutherland had been a poor choice as the wife of Lord Sutherland’s heir would be silenced.
“Oh, Minnie!
I am so happy for you and Martin.”
“But you must tell no one.
Not even your parents.
We want to be certain that nothing goes amiss.”
“I believe they will begin to notice in short order that you are not the shape you have been.”
“By then, I will have told them.”
She hesitated, then said, “There have been other times, Linnea, but something went wrong within weeks.”
“I had no idea.”
“No one knew but Martin, and we want to be sure before we let everyone else be excited.
However, this is the longest I have been able to carry our child, so I just had to share with someone.”
She hugged Minnie again.
“You know I will tell no one until you and Martin decide to spread the joyous news.
Papa will be so proud that I doubt he will be able to keep his waistcoat buttons from popping.”
“I know.”
Minnie folded her hands in her lap.
“Now, tell me what favor you want me to do for you.”
Linnea blinked, torn from her joy by a sudden burst of disappointment.
She could not ask Minnie to make the trip to
London
with her and Nils.
That might put the unborn baby at risk.
Patting her sister-in-law’s hands, she smiled.
“It will have to wait.”
“Oh, Linnea!”
Her eyes grew wide.
“I promised you that I would do you a favor in return for keeping this secret.
Now...”
“You will do me the very best favor possible by taking care of yourself and that baby.”
“But—”
“I say that with all sincerity.”
Linnea looked past Minnie to where Nils was striding back toward them.
Somehow, she would have to explain this to him without revealing the truth.
A promise made was never broken.
Ever.
Twenty
Nils tossed his cards to the blanket as he listened to Tuthill launch into another explanation of why investing in shipping at this time was foolhardy.
Although he wanted to tell Tuthill that a sea-wise captain could elude any blockade or even a warship in pursuit, he did not.
That would create questions he would find difficult to answer.
If he had had more time, Linnea could have taught him to read the symbols that were in the books in her father’s book-room.
He ignored the cards that should have won him this game as he stood.
“Linnea, there is an old mound just inshore from here that I promised Dr. Foster I would visit today.”
When she winced, he clamped his lips closed.
Something was bothering her.
With the mound?
Or the professor?
He could not ask her when the others were listening.
She put her hand on the one he held out.
“Yes, there is.”
“Will you show me where it is?”
He closed his fingers over her trembling ones.
When she did not meet his gaze, he had to fight not to frown.
What was bothering her was not a small thing.
Tuthill did not hesitate to scowl.
“Linnea, I thought you were going to spend the afternoon at the shore.”
“I had told
Niles
I would show him that small mound near the spring just up this stream.”
Linnea glanced at Nils, and he saw her disquiet as she asked, “Would you like to come with us?”
“More Viking ruins?”
Tuthill’s nose wrinkled.
“Do you ever think of anything else,
Barrington
?”
“I have been known to on occasion.”
Minnie hid her face against her husband’s shoulder.
Nils almost laughed aloud as he saw how she quivered with silent laughter.
Linnea’s voice was still quiet.
“You are welcome to go with us up to the old mound,
Randolph
.”
“I will meet you back here.”
Tuthill kept his gaze on the cards he held.
“I have no interest in mucking about today, and, to own the truth, I am enjoying my best winning streak in years.”
Nils did not give Linnea a chance to ask him again.
If he did not know better, he would have thought she
wanted
Tuthill to come with them.
She said nothing as they walked toward the path that led up from the beach.
When she drew her hand out of his and again refused to meet his gaze, he knew something was amiss.
Terribly amiss.
“This way,” Linnea said, her voice flat as she climbed the path.
He edged in front of her and turned to face her, walking slowly backward.
“Do you need help?”
“I have been climbing up and down these cliffs since I was a small child.”
“I did not mean that.”
She looked back at the strand.
“Can we speak of this later?”
“When we are out of earshot of the others?”
“And out of their view?”
His body tightened at the thought of being alone with her.
Then, noting the despair in her eyes, he sighed.
Whatever was troubling her was not inconsequential, so it must be dealt with before they gave themselves to rapture.
How many more barricades would be placed in their way before they could savor the passion that should be theirs?
“Yes,” he replied.
“Past the top of the hill.”
His eyes narrowed as he saw Tuthill come to his feet.
“Do you think your suitor will follow us?”
Linnea turned when she heard the frustration in Nils’s voice.
She waited, then realized
Randolph
was going only as far as the stream to refill his glass from the bottle of cooled wine there.
Walking up the path, she looked back again to see him sitting with his cards in his hands.
“Odd,” she murmured.
“I would ask what is odd, but everything is.”
She smiled.
Trust Nils to try to bolster her spirits!
“It is not like
Randolph
to be so fixated on gambling.”
He drew her up over the edge of the cliff.
“You have mentioned to me more than once while you taught me how to survive in the Polite World that men of this time choose to gamble on the slightest matter.”
“Papa told me of three men in his club when he was a young man who wagered heavily on which way a raindrop would slide down a windowpane.”
“I would rather wager on my own skills than the laws of chance, which favor no man.”
She smiled.
“Papa would say it was because those men preferred the chance of a great loss to the work that would guarantee a strong victory.”
“Your father is a very wise man.”
He did not release her hand as she led the way through the knee-high grass.
“A millennium ago, he would have been well-respected as a great leader.”
“The family history speaks of ancestors who have fought for
England
in every conflict since the Conquest.”
She chuckled.
“Mayhap before.”
“I am glad that I did not ever face your ancestor across bare blades.”
Whirling her into his arms, he kissed her lightly.
“
Unnasta
, if I had, you might not have been here to help me.”
She pushed away before he could kiss her again.
She must explain to him what Minnie had told her.
As she saw the warm glow in his eyes, she hesitated.
The truth would destroy the pleasant afternoon for him.
She would tell him later.
Coward!
The word rang through her head in an unfamiliar voice.
Not hers, for the voice was masculine, but it was not Nils’s.
She glanced behind her and saw no one nearby.
Coward!
Shaking her head, Linnea continued along the path, almost invisible among the undergrowth.
The mound was a bare spot among the trees growing more closely together away from the cliff’s edge.
Grass and wildflowers covered the top of the mound, but no trees had ever taken root in it, distinguishing it as different from other hills along the downs.
Hearing branches crash behind her, Linnea turned to see Nils pushing through the brush.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“There is a stone here.”
“A stone?”
She tried to follow him.
He held back the branches so she could slip through.
He knelt by a gray stone.
“I believe it is a marker stone.”
He brushed more of the undergrowth aside.
“It is carved with writing.”
“Writing?”
She peered at the faded lines that resembled birds’ legs and talons.
“I cannot read it.”
He ran his fingers along the lines and cursed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“The first letters here spell Kortsson’s name.”
“Why would he carve his name here?”
“As a warning to me.”
“That makes no sense,” she said.
“He knows you know he is here.
Why would he taunt you like this?”
“It is not a taunt, but a threat.
See the rest of this?
It says:
This stone was raised by Hardar Karlisson in the memory of his father Karli Mottulsson
.”
“It is a grave?
Martin always has suspected this was some sort of gravesite.
Mayhap that is its tombstone.”
She looked at the mound, then whispered, “Did Kortsson carve those letters to tell you that he plans to kill you?”
“He knows I know of his plans.
He chose this place, I would guess, because he wants to remind me of my tarnished honor.”
“What do you mean?”
He tapped the stone.
“It is unlikely there was ever a corpse beneath this soil.
Not a body of any of the
Norrfoolk
.
This is a tribute stone.
The body would not be here.
At his death, such a well-respected man usually is burned with his ship, horses, and slaves.”
She recoiled, horror icing her face.
“Horses and slaves are burned, too?”
“It is an honor to join one’s master in
Valhalla
.”
“That is barbaric.
I shudder at the thought of innocent beasts and people being forced to die like that.”
“It never has been by force.
In my time, maidens offered themselves as sacrifices to join a chieftain in death.
It was a great honor.”
“It is—”
He stood.
Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her closer.
“Do not repeat that it was barbaric.
Those women had the choice of offering themselves for such an honor.
They were not like women now, who are traded like chattel to husbands who openly dishonor them by keeping mistresses.
They are not docile like the women now, who are selected by their husbands only because they need an heir and the money a wife may bring to fill empty coffers.”
“But at least the bride does not end up dead.”
“She still breathes, but is she truly alive as she waits on a parade of callers whose existence is as miserable as hers?”
Linnea arched her shoulder to break Nils’s hold on her.
It was futile, for he was too strong.
Instead she lashed out with, “You do not know what you are talking about!”