Surrender To The Viking (17 page)

‘You didn’t kiss me properly before?’

‘I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt you.’

It’s not kisses that hurt.
‘That was very considerate.’

He put an arm around her waist and drew her closer. ‘It has cost me dear. You have very kissable lips.’

She wished she could believe him. She wished she hadn’t missed him and that his touch didn’t matter. ‘Do I?’

‘Yes, you do, among other things of course. The subject has been much on my mind of late.’

‘I think wild boars were much on your mind.’

‘And yet I felt no desire to kiss one.’

‘Just as well, I’d say.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘You fear for my safety?’

‘Well, of course, but it would also be mortifying to discover that I must compete with a pig for your affections.’

He laughed softly. ‘Thor’s blood, I have missed you.’

Without further warning his mouth descended on hers. There was nothing tentative or gentle about it this time. On the contrary it was assured and persuasive, the kiss of a man experienced with women. It spoke of contained passion that sought her response. And passion woke in its turn and of its own volition her mouth opened to him, her tongue tilting with his. He tasted of ale, strong and heady. She swayed against him, sliding her arms around his neck, caressing the warm skin at the nape, breathing the erotic musky scent of him. Her touch sent a tremor through his flesh and then his arms closed around her, his tongue thrusting deeper. Lara felt her blood leap in reply. A few moments more and she knew it would become much more than a kiss. The barn was just yards away, cosy, private, just right for a lovers’ tryst.
Except that he doesn’t love you. What he wants is to get a son.
He would consider it as nothing more than an agreeable interlude in the pursuit of an aim. He’d pleasure her thoroughly and then go back to the hall with barely a break in his stride. Desire began to fade and somewhere, deep inside, the spark of rebellion flickered into life again.

Finn felt her tense and draw back. ‘What is it, Lara? Am I hurting you?’

She summoned a brittle smile. ‘No, of course not.’
Not in the way you think anyway.
‘It’s just that I...I really must go and speak to the servants about that meat. There’s the evening meal as well.’

‘I told them to roast a haunch of venison. They’ve probably started.’

‘Possibly, but I’d rather make sure.’ She stepped back. ‘I must leave you to your ale and your men for the time being.’

Reluctantly he let her go. ‘Very well, but I promise you it
is
only for the time being. Next time I get you alone you won’t get away.’

The implications did nothing for her equilibrium and giving him an ambiguous and fleeting smile she hurried away. Finn watched her go, his brow creased in bemusement. Mingled with it was disappointment. Her kiss was sweet and arousing and it turned his mind away from everything else. He would have liked to take things further than a kiss. It had been in his mind to carry her into the barn and take her until she swooned. Two days of sexual abstinence were more than enough. Or they were when the woman in question was Lara. Not only had he not tired of her, whenever he took her he found himself looking forward to the next time. He’d thought just now she might be amenable to the idea. He certainly hadn’t imagined the warmth in her response. What had happened to change it?

* * *

Lara paced around behind the barn for a while until she felt calmer. By that time she was annoyed with herself. She shouldn’t have reacted like that. If she hadn’t been feeling out of sorts it wouldn’t have happened. She’d let herself get sidetracked by daydreams. It was stupid and pointless. Men had adventures, women became wives. That was the way of things. Finn was not a bad husband: he didn’t beat or abuse her but he did expect her to give him a son. Half-a-dozen sons, in fact. If he fancied a roll in the hay so what? What did it matter where the children were conceived? She sighed.
It isn’t the where, it’s the why.
He just wants heirs to continue his line and all you can think about is love.
That’s not the real world, Lara.
He doesn’t love you.
He had told her where she stood. She had affection and respect. Only a fool longed for the unattainable.

* * *

Later that evening everything was back on an even keel, outwardly anyway. Finn made no reference to what had passed between them and neither did she. Possibly he hadn’t even noticed the brief awkwardness. When they retired that night he made love to her as she knew he would. Nor could she pretend to herself that she didn’t want him too when his very touch set her afire. He was ardent and eager and if she hadn’t known better she might have thought his passion was rooted in something deeper than mere affection.
But she did know better.
The truth was that he wanted a wife who could run his hall efficiently and who would bear his children. That was the lot of every woman and she was no different. She didn’t want to let him down but at the same time she had to be true to herself.

‘Finn?’

‘Mmmm?’

‘I need to talk to you about something.’

He yawned. ‘Can it wait until morning, sweetheart? It’s been a long day.’

She conquered disappointment. A few more hours wouldn’t make any difference. ‘All right.’

He kissed her shoulder and then rolled on to his side. Within a few minutes he was asleep.

Lara stared at the rafters.
It doesn’t matter. Don’t take it personally.
In spite of that it was hard not to.
Survival means not letting yourself feel hurt. Finn has learned to cope with pain even though he lost Bótey.
It was a salutary reminder to keep a sense of perspective. Sword craft was part of her self-preservation strategy, something that she could have for herself outside of the mundane round of domestic existence. That was worth fighting for.

Chapter Eighteen

W
hen Finn woke the next morning the space beside him was empty. He knew from the light that it wasn’t long after dawn yet Lara’s clothes were gone. It suggested that she wouldn’t be coming back to bed. He experienced a powerful surge of disappointment. Although they’d made love last night he’d been too tired to give her the degree of attention he would have liked. The degree of attention he’d like to devote to the matter right now.

He was faintly surprised. Even for Lara this was an early start. He already knew that she was industrious and conscientious. She’d stepped into her wifely role with ease. Food was well prepared, clothes washed, wool spun, cows milked, butter churned, cheese pressed and cloth woven. She had a natural authority with the servants too. He never heard her raise her voice but they obeyed her at once. It was most pleasing and he had no fault to find, except her present absence from his bed. Without her the thought of remaining there lost much of its appeal, a point he was going to take up with her very soon.

He got up and began to dress. As he did so his memory returned to the incident outside the barn when she’d made an excuse to leave. He admitted that the meat had needed attention and that Lara was diligent about such things. Perhaps there was a similarly good reason why she had left his bed this morning. If she hadn’t seemed so tense yesterday he might have let it go. Furthermore, she’d wanted to speak to him about something last night. In which case why had she left so early?

* * *

She was finishing up the practice session behind the barn when he appeared. He made no attempt to interrupt, waiting until she had sheathed the sword before strolling across to join her.

‘So this is why I was forsaken.’

She eyed him cautiously. ‘Are you angry with me?’

‘
Angry
is not the right word,’ he replied. ‘Say rather,
disappointed
.’

Her heart sank. ‘Do you dislike it so very much?’

‘Of course I dislike it. What man would not?’

It was going to be harder than she’d thought. ‘I wanted to talk to you about it last night but you were tired.’

‘If you’d told me last night it wouldn’t have happened because I’d have forbidden it.’

She paled. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Of course I’m serious. How could you think otherwise?’

‘You didn’t mind before so I thought...I hoped you’d understand. Obviously I was naive.’

He stared at her. ‘I didn’t mind what before?’

‘My learning sword craft. It didn’t bother you then because I wasn’t your wife and perhaps it had a novelty value or maybe it helped you stave off boredom.’

‘What?’

‘Now we’re married you forbid what you accepted then, because what you really want is a wife who will conform and content herself with domesticity. I can’t blame you for that because I know it’s what I should be but—’

‘Wait—stop there. You think I came out here to forbid you to practise sword craft?’

‘Didn’t you?’

‘I woke and found you gone so I came to find out why you’d abandoned my bed.’

‘Oh. I thought...you said—’ She broke off in confusion and looked away.

Finn’s gaze never left her. ‘I think there are a few things we need to get straight.’ He paused. ‘Look at me, Lara.’ When she had obeyed he went on, ‘Do you really think me such a hypocrite as your words suggest?’

‘I...we were speaking at cross-purposes.’

‘But the doubt was in your mind, wasn’t it?’

‘At that moment I didn’t know what to think.’

‘And now?’

‘I see I was wrong.’

‘I hope you do,’ he replied.

She drew a long shuddering breath. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that I couldn’t bear to lose this.’

‘I’m not going to take it from you.’

‘It means a lot to hear you say that.’

‘I’m glad to have set your mind at rest. Now come here.’ He put his arms around her and drew her closer.

She rested her cheek against his breast and let herself relax a little. Although she felt somewhat foolish for having misread him, the feeling was outweighed by relief. He had been kind. She would still be able to retain something for herself.

Finn glanced down, his mind very much on the recent conversation. Ostensibly it had been a misunderstanding but there were deeper undercurrents that he didn’t like. Lara never complained but he was more attuned to her than he’d ever been to any woman, and he sensed that something was wrong. Having foolishly ignored warning signs in the past and lost a woman as a result, he couldn’t afford to let this slide.

‘I would never want you to be unhappy and yet I think that you are. It’s not just about sword craft either, is it?’

She glanced up at him, uneasily, wondering where this was leading.

‘Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?’ he went on. ‘Is it something I’ve done?’

A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed it quickly. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong, my lord. I am treated well. I have no complaint to make.’

It was an evasion but an honest answer was impossible. What could she say?
I want you to love me and you don’t. I want your heart and you can’t give it.
Gods, how pathetic it would sound. She’d cut out her tongue rather than tell him that. His pity was the last thing she needed. All the same Finn was persistent and he was perceptive. He’d know at once if she tried to fob him off with a lie. The best option was to tell him something he’d find convincing. Therefore, whatever she said next would have to be as honest as she could make it.

‘I... It’s not that. It’s just...’

‘Just what?’

‘I’ve been feeling a bit homesick, especially since Alrik and Guthrum left.’ That much was true at least.

‘It’s only natural that you would miss your home and your family when you’ve been uprooted and taken to live in a strange place.’

She drew a deep breath. ‘And then, well, I...I’ve missed adventure too. I’ve done my best to keep busy but it’s not the same somehow.’ That too was true. The repetitious daily round of household chores wasn’t the same at all. ‘I know it’s foolish. I know very well that there aren’t going to be any more adventures. You told me that.’ And he had, so she hadn’t lied there either. There were three partial truths that sidestepped the central one. ‘I’m sure I’ll get used to it in time.’ She eyed him anxiously. ‘Are you angry?’

‘No, sweetheart, I’m not angry.’ He stroked her hair. ‘And I didn’t say there would be no more adventures—only that there would be no more of the kind that could get you killed.’

‘Oh.’ The words created a flicker of hope. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really.’ He smiled. ‘I have to go down the coast to pick up a cargo of iron and salt next month. Why don’t you come with me?’

Her spirits began to lift a little. ‘I’d like that very much.’

‘Then it’s settled.’

‘It will be good to have a change of scene again.’ Then realising how that might have sounded she hurried on, ‘I didn’t mean to imply that there’s anything wrong with Ravndal. What I meant was—’

He stopped the words with a finger to her lips. ‘It’s all right. I know what you meant, sweetheart.’

Finn had spoken the truth. He had a very good idea of what she had meant and he blamed his short-sightedness for letting this happen. It should have occurred to him that she might be homesick. It should have occurred to him that domestic chores would not be enough to stave off boredom and unhappiness. Lara wasn’t like any woman he’d ever met and he realised, belatedly, that if he failed to take account of the difference he was heading for disaster. She was not only beautiful, but intelligent and spirited and passionate. They might not be the qualities that made for a meek little housewife but they were the qualities that had first attracted him, the qualities he didn’t want to change. That she should try to suppress her true nature to conform to some abstract ideal of womanhood was not only painful, it was dangerous. A spirit like hers would break free eventually and when it did he would lose her. He had lost a wife once before because he hadn’t taken her needs into account and he wasn’t about to let it happen again. He was glad now he’d confronted the problem and got everything out in the open.

‘I know how accomplished a housewife you are,’ he said. ‘No one could do better. But you mustn’t think that’s all there will ever be. Ravndal is your home. It’s not a prison.’

She lowered her gaze and made no reply and he realised with chilling clarity that prison was how she did perceive it. The implications sent a sharp jolt to his solar plexus. Along with that was a dawning understanding that if the daily round of chores on a steading wasn’t a perpetual source of fun and stimulation for him, that if he felt the need to escape from time to time, then perhaps the same might be true for a woman. One couldn’t just assume that the accepted norm was right for every woman just because she was a woman. Some might well be satisfied with the
status quo
but not all. Experience had shown him that.

‘I’m sorry that you should have thought so,’ he said. ‘It was never my intention.’

‘I thought I’d be able to adjust more quickly. I want to be a proper wife to you, Finn.’

‘You are a proper wife to me. You always have been.’

She smiled ruefully. ‘Well, not always. Not at first, but I’m trying to improve.’

‘There is nothing to improve, Lara, and nothing I would change. I like you exactly as you are. I always have.’

The blue-green eyes met his. ‘Do you mean that?’

Her expression cut him to the heart. How could she have doubted it? Had he somehow given a false impression? If so, it was time to correct it.

‘Yes, I do mean that.’ He took hold of her hand. ‘Come with me.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Back to the sleeping quarters.’

He set off drawing her along with him. Nor did he make any attempt to shorten his stride so that she was almost running to keep up. She had no doubt about how he meant to demonstrate the sincerity of his words. Had he not complained about her rising so early? She smiled wryly. At least she wouldn’t have to do that any longer because there was no need for her to sneak out to practise now.

When they reached their quarters she fully expected that he would demand her immediate return to bed. However, Finn released his hold on her hand and turned instead to his sea chest. Under her quizzical gaze he opened the lid and took something out. Then he came to join her.

‘There’s something I want to give you,’ he said. ‘Something I hope will please you and also demonstrate the truth of what I told you.’

She looked up at him in surprise. ‘A present?’

‘Yes. I never did give you a morning gift so it’s long overdue. Besides, I wanted it to be something personal, something unique to you.’

He offered her the item in his hand. The cloth-wrapped package was long and narrow and surprisingly heavy in relation to its size. She sat down on the edge of the bed and laid the package carefully across her lap while she undid the fabric. Then she gasped in astonishment. Inside was a sword in a fine leather scabbard with a silver chape and mounts.

‘Oh, Finn.’

For a moment she was stunned, staring at the gift in total disbelief. The five-lobed pommel was made of silver, each indentation delineated with silver wire. Below it was a carved boxwood grip overlaid and bound with fine leather. The curved guard was also silver and cunningly decorated with a pattern of interlacing stems. She closed her fingers around the grip. It was smaller than usual but a perfect fit for her hand. Slowly, she rose from her seat and drew the sword. It was lighter than a man’s weapon but perfectly balanced in an ideal ratio of weight to size. Her gaze drank in the soft lustre of blue-grey metal and the wondrous patterns flowing through the fuller and down the blade.

He watched her closely. ‘Do you like it?’

‘It’s beautiful,’ she breathed. ‘I never saw anything so fine before.’

‘I gave the smith very precise instructions so the blade took a while to make. I only collected it yesterday—a detour on the way back from hunting.’

‘It’s the most wonderful surprise ever. Thank you so much.’ Sheathing the blade again she laid it carefully on the bed then put her arms around his neck and gave him a lingering kiss. ‘No one ever gave me so fine a gift before.’

He linked his hands around her waist. ‘I’d noticed you were neglecting to practise so I thought this might provide some fresh motivation.’

Her face lit in a smile. ‘It will, believe me. Thank you a thousand times for this. I can’t begin to tell you how much it means.’

‘I know what it means, sweetheart. Have I not felt the same?’

‘I shall try to do justice to the gift.’

‘Then perhaps you’d care to resume lessons.’

‘You would still teach me?’

‘Who else?’ he asked.

‘That would be wonderful.’

‘We’re agreed, then.’

Her expression grew serious. ‘I stopped practising because I thought you would not like it.’

‘Why should you think that?’

‘It’s not how men expect their wives to behave.’

‘Different things please different men. You are
my
wife and I’m proud of it, too much so to want to change you. I would never have you pretend to be someone you’re not just because you have some idea that it’s what I expect or that it’s what I want. It isn’t, on either count.’

‘Then...what do you want?’

‘I want you to be yourself and most of all I want you to be happy.’ He kissed her gently. ‘Don’t ever doubt that.’

She hugged him tightly. ‘I do love you, Finn.’

The hand that had been stroking her back was suddenly still and there was silence. For a moment or two the only discernible movement was the light rise and fall of his breast beneath her cheek and the rhythmic thudding of his heart. Lara shut her eyes and cringed inwardly.
You idiot! What on earth possessed you to say that just when everything was going so well?
In fact, the words had been quite involuntary, before she was even aware of the thought or could guard her tongue. That didn’t detract from their truth but now she had put him in an awkward position because he couldn’t reciprocate. He had been kind and generous in ways she could never have expected or dreamed of, and he would be a good husband, but he couldn’t give her his love. What he offered was affection and respect. She’d known that all along. Now, with one thoughtless comment she’d made a fool of herself and possibly spoilt a very special moment.
Say something. Cover your tracks. Pretend nothing happened.