My Lord Viking (50 page)

     
“But I have.”
 
Stepping away from him, but staying between him and the door, she whispered, “I told you the knife was in
London
.”

     
“You said you believed it was there.
 
It was nothing but a mistake in your efforts to aid me.”

     
“Then I found it here.
 
If you had not come here as you have to discover me with it here...”
 
She wanted to close her eyes and escape the accusations in his.
 

     
“You would not have told me?”
 
He spoke the words as if he could not believe them himself.

     
“I do not want you to return to your own time.”
 
She ran her fingers along his cheek as he had hers so often.
 
“I love you, Nils Bjornsson.
 
You are the one who makes me whole, the part of me that has been missing for a thousand years.”

     
“But I cannot stay here.
 
I must complete my vow.
 
The only reason I am living now is that Freya heard my pledge and saw it as honorable.”

     
She took the knife and drew it from its sheath.
 
Handing it to him, haft first, she said, “Then do what you must.”

     
Nils looked from the blade to Linnea’s eyes that glowed with courage.
 
And with love.
 
She yearned for him to remain with her here in this time, but she loved him enough to let him go back to the life that should have been his.

     
“
Unnasta
, I vowed to slay the one who kept me from returning this to my chieftain.”

     
“I know.”

     
“Yet you aver that person is you.”

     
“Yes.”

     
His arm swept around her waist as he brought her to him.
 
She tensed, and he knew she expected him to slay her.
 
How could she not see the truth?
 
His lips over hers must tell her.
 

     
When she pressed closer, he held her, the flat of the blade against her, so it would do her no harm.
 
He looked down into her eyes, her loving eyes, and saw the resignation there.
 
He had sacrificed his chance to join the heroes in
Valhalla
, but he had found a new life.
 
She was willing to forfeit everything to give him his final chance at honor and that seat in
Valhalla
.

     
He groaned as he dropped the knife onto the settee and slanted his mouth across hers.
 
Her arms tightened around him, and he knew she was kissing him good-bye.
 
No!
 
I cannot repay you for all that you have done for me by killing you.
 

     
He must have spoken those words aloud, because she whispered, “You have made a pledge, Nils.
 
A blood-oath.”

     
“But the blood was not meant to be yours.”
 
He swore and looked toward the north wall of the room.
 
“This is Loki’s doing.”

     
“Is it?”
 
She tilted his face back toward her.
 
“Or is it nothing more than the cost of saving your family’s honor?”

     
He kissed her again and again and again, as if he could memorize the shape of her mouth, the flavor of her lips, the scent of her flesh.
 
As her hair tumbled down into his fingers, he buried his face in it.
 
No memory would be as magnificent as this woman who enticed him as no other had.

     
“What in hell do you think you are doing?” came a furious shout from the doorway.

     
Linnea gasped as Nils turned to face
Randolph
.
 
She started to answer, but Nils said, “I would think it was quite obvious what we are doing.”

     
Randolph
stamped into the room.
 
Trying to push his way between her and Nils gained him nothing, because Nils refused to move.
 
Randolph
put his nose close to hers and snarled, “Whore!”

     
Nils’s arm was around his throat, the dragon knife against
Randolph
’s ear before Linnea could react.
 
“Apologize now, Tuthill, or you will not hear her accept your apology.”

     
“Nils, please don’t,” she begged.

     
Shoving
Randolph
aside, Nils lowered the knife.
 
He handed it to Linnea.
 
“Guard it well,
unnasta
, for I fear I shall be tempted to repay this cur for what he has said.”

     
She nodded, knowing he would have slain
Randolph
right here if she had not halted him.
 

     
Randolph
rubbed his ear and grimaced when his fingers came away dotted with blood.
 
“
Barrington
, are you planning to steal from my exhibit case as well as from my bed?”

     
“
Randolph
!” she gasped again as Nils’s hand reached for the knife he wore beneath his sedate coat.
 
“You should not speak so.”

     
“Why not?
 
‘Tis the truth, isn’t it?”
 
He snatched the knife from her.
 
“This knife belongs in the exhibit case over there.”

     
“He did not steal it.”
 
She raised her chin as she had to Nils.
 
“I took it out to look at it.”
 

     
“So you will steal from me and give what you take to this man you have fallen in love with.”
 
Randolph
’s lip curled.
 
He tossed the knife toward the settee, but it missed, falling to the floor.
 
She saw Nils wince, but looked back at
Randolph
as he asked, “Do you think he will love you more than he does his studies of long dead folk?”

     
“Love?” she retorted, hurt that he had spoken first of the knife.
 
Mayhap he
had
known it was here as he watched like a miser over every valuable he had inherited.
 
“I thought you said less than an hour ago that love was of the least concern in a reasonable marriage.”

     
Nils said quietly, “That is why he decided to court you after he missed his opportunity to marry your sister Dinah.
 
It does not matter to him which one of you he wed.
 
What matters is the connection he could have to your father and his brilliant acumen for making business investments.”

     
“Is this true?” she asked, staring at
Randolph
.
 

     
“You would believe this stranger over a man you have known all your life?”
Randolph
fired back.

     
“Answer me!”

     
Randolph
swore, for once not apologizing for his language.
 
“I have known both you and your sister all your lives.
 
Either of you would have made a good wife.
 
When Simmons set his cap on Dinah, I saw no reason to contest him for her, because you were unwed, too.”
 
He glared at Nils.
 
“Now you flounce about like a harlot with this man.”

     
“I love him, Randolph.”

     
“Love?”
 
He sniffed.
 
“What good is love?
 
I could have given you a comfortable life here in Tuthill Hall.
 
You would have been close to your family, and we would have joined them for dinner regularly.”

     
Nils added in the same hushed tone, “So you could gain any information you could from her father and brother about their business ventures.
 
It is unfortunate, Tuthill, that you wasted all your charm on Lord Sutherland and his heir.
 
If you had saved a bit for Linnea, she might have been willing to forsake love to marry you because she so wanted to be in love as her sister was.”

     
“All this talk of love.
 
What good is it?
 
Can it repair a roof?
 
Can it pay the tailor?
 
Can it fund a household?”

     
Pity flooded Linnea, and she glanced at Nils.
 
He had been right.
 
She had pitied
Randolph
.
 
First for the debts left to him with his title, and then for the shallowness of his heart that held no love for anything but financial security.
 

     
“Love may not be able to do any of those things,” she whispered, “but it can make the impossible possible.
 
It can go anywhere—It can go any
when
to reach the other heart it wishes to share.
 
That is what I want for you, Randolph.”
 
She put her hands over his.
 
“I want you to find the one person who fills your every waking thought and walks through your dreams.
 
I want you to have the joy of seeing someone’s eyes light up for you as they don’t for anyone else.
 
You have always been a good friend to my family, and you have been patient with me, but you do not love me.
 
Why would you deny yourself the happiness that should be yours?”

     
“The dowry your father promised—”

     
Nils said quietly, “The bridesprice Lord Sutherland would have given you is less than what you could receive if you sell these items to Dr. Foster.”
 
He pointed to the open case.
 
“He would be very pleased to have these Viking artifacts in his collection, and I suspect he would gladly pay dear for them.”

     
“Really?”
 
Randolph
picked up the ragged bag.
 
“For this?”

     
“It is a
veski
, the pouch a Viking would have worn at his side.
 
I doubt if many have survived until this time.
 
Dr. Foster should consider it of great worth, for I doubt he has anything like it.”
 
He glanced at Linnea, then went on, “You should speak to him about it, Tuthill.”

     
“I shall.
 
Without delay.”
 
He bent toward the floor.
 
“If this small bag is so valuable, think what this knife must be worth.”

     
“Yes, think of it,” came a deeper voice from the doorway.

     
“Papa!” Linnea cried.
 

     
Lord Sutherland picked up the blade before
Randolph
could.
 
“It is clear that you have cared little about the value of this until now when you believe you might be able to get some of the realm’s gold for it,
Randolph
.”

     
“I never suspected these old things my father kept in a box on top of the tea chest had any value but sentimental.”