The Seducer (Viking Warriors) (10 page)

The whispers began when she crossed the hall to the high table. Her chin firmed and she clenched her jaw. None would know how she quailed inside, how the smell of the food brought bile to her mouth, or how she yearned to cuff the men who snickered when she walked past them.

Jarvik lurched to his feet when Elaina approached the bench. He helped her to sit, curved an arm around her waist, and drew her close. “For this eve, I am pleased that you left your hair unbound. ’Tis glorious. I have a quarrel to pick with you, wife.”

She blinked, twined her fingers together, and ducked her head. He would quarrel with her in front of all these nobles?

His fist nudged her chin. “You have not stolen your score kisses this day. So, I will steal two score from you this eve.”

Unshed tears blurred her vision. “You would have me act the concubine’s daughter?”

“Nay. I would have all, every man, woman, and child in this hall know that Jarvik the Seducer has eyes for none but his wife. Look to me, sweetling.” His stare pierced her. She felt his determination and knew he seethed with rage. “That the Seducer values Princess Elaina above all. That he chooses the finest of everything for her. That he will not sate his hunger until she is replete.”

Elaina blinked, and she cupped his jaw. It took a few moments before she could find her voice. “I vow to you that I will never give you cause to set me aside. I will ne’er cast my sights to another man.”

He brushed her lips with his.

Jarvik would not let her lift a finger the whole meal. “Deidra tells me you taught her how to eat without meat or fowl.”

“I will eat fowl, but Deidra is loath to eat any animal. I fear I had to convince her to taste fish, eel, and cockles. May I not offer you a morsel, my lord?”

“Later. In our chamber.” He speared a choice oyster. “I will have you feed me the chocolate spiced balls Magnus is so fond of.”

Her sex readied for him, for his shaft, for the most delicious friction that fed ecstasy. His words and the desire blazing from eyes lit a fire low in her belly, a conflagration that spread everywhere all at once, radiating to toes too warm in thin slippers, to her tingling scalp, and finally to the aching nubbin between her folds.

“You blush deliciously. I hunger for you, wife.” He found a slice of leek covered in buttery cream and slipped the morsel between her lips. “Mayhap we will have to take some thick cream and a few plump berries with us when we leave the hall.”

How many women’s honey had her husband tasted? Elaina studied his eating knife separating a square of fish from a chunk of turnip.

“To me, wife.”

Elaina forced her lips to curve when she met his gaze. “My lord?”

“What shadow chased away your dazzling smile?” He captured her wrist and placed an open-mouthed, wet kiss on her pulse, all the while holding her captive to the scorching intent clear in his blue eyes.

“Naught. ’Twas but a foolish thought.”

“Nay. You think of the Seducer’s past. I can see it in your eyes. Think on it in this manner. ’Tis a past that will bring to you great pleasure. For I have spent the days since leaving your father’s keep preparing for that and only that.”

“You would have me believe ’tis like training for swordplay?”

“Aye, you have the right of it, wife.”

How could any man’s smile be so wicked, so tempting, so full of promise and heat? Elaina didn’t know whether to snort, stamp a foot, or kiss him senseless. So distracted was she by the soft lips that had brought her untold pleasure that she ignored the gasps, muffled squeaks, and the odd whistle or two.

“I believe I will have to spend the entire day on the training field on the morrow. Look you there, Elaina.” He jerked his head to the foot of the stairs.

She turned on the bench and her jaw dropped. For there, walking toward the two kings were Ainslin, Catriona, Bettina, Deidra, and Gæierla, all dressed as Elaina had been earlier, in a concubine’s harem pants, tight bodices, and bared jeweled navels. Elaina cupped both hands over her mouth, but ’twas for naught. She could not suppress the hiccupped giggle that erupted from her lips.

Jarvik bounded to his feet, but did not utter a word or move, simply stared at his brothers who all glanced his way, and then all hell’s mischief erupted.

Torsten scaled the table, sending trenchers flying.

Magnus roared, “To me, Deidra!”

Ruard banged his head on the table. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Njal seized a line of rope from a basket and stalked to his wife.

Babble broke out. Cats snarled as kitchen boys, maids, stable hands, all raced into the Great Hall.

Both kings stood.

Cnut the Great slapped a hand to his thigh, pounded a fist on the table, and guffawed. His teeth snapped together and his mirth ended on a shout when Queen Ælfgifu demurely followed the Viking warriors’ wives.

All the women stood before the high dais.

Máel Coluim, who had no female to worry about, collapsed onto the bench, tears streaming down his cheeks, and holding his sides as if they were about to explode.

“Wife!” Cnut’s bellow echoed in the now raucous hall. “What matter of mischief is this?”

“Do not blame your wife, your majesty.” Ainslin’s musical voice and soft manner of speaking quieted the din of the assembled crowd. “Princess Elaina is now sister to me, to all the other women of this keep, and any border holding that wishes peace. Know you all that ’twill be taken as a personal insult to me, my husband, the Bear of The North, all of his brothers and wives, if so much as a single person whispers of the concubine’s daughter.”

“All know Elaina took refuge as a healer on my father’s holding. The Seducer took her maidenhood there, and I kept the proof.” Deidra pointed to the top of the stairs where two boys stood. “Hang the sheets. There, there is the proof of Elaina’s maidenhead. She went to Jarvik a maid and from this day forward, she will be known as Elaina the Virtuous.”

While Ainslin had been speaking, each Viking warrior stalked to stand behind their respective ladies. Elaina marveled that order had been maintained, that none had lost their temper. Did the females believe ’twould work? She shook her head. Even if all failed she could now count four women, nay five, for the queen stood with them, as allies.

Silence reigned for the space of a few moments. Then Máel Coluim, who had collected himself and no longer burst into fits of laughter, rose. “A toast. To women. To a queen who sets wrongs to rights. To Viking wives and their courage! Praise the lord that I took a good Scot lass to queen.”

“You are not surprised.” Elaina studied her husband’s smiling face. “’Twas the reason you were not enraged earlier.”

He captured her hand and bid her stand. “Nay, wife. I was enraged, but Ainslin had already decided on this. I will take
you
to task later for not warning me of your intentions. Come. Let us stand with my brothers and their females.”

The standing did not last more than another toast from King Cnut. Elaina tried not to grin when the Bear attempted to throw his wife over his shoulder. Ainslin cupped her hand to his ear and whispered something. Twin circles the color of beets marked his cheeks.

The same happened with each successive brother, and all Elaina could do was stare unbelieving as each warrior draped his wife with a cloak and headed in different directions.

“We go to the turret.” Jarvik urged her forward, his palm hot in the small of her back.

“Neither king has left the hall.” Elaina widened her stride to match Jarvik’s.

“I wager Cnut will hustle his queen to their chamber afore the toasts are complete. He is a lusty man, and she has but to smile his way for them to vanish.” Jarvik paused at the top of the stairs. “Magnus and Deidra have yielded their chamber to Cnut, so they head to the bath house. Torsten has always preferred the privacy of a crofter’s hut and ’tis where he and Ainslin will go. Njal and Bettina occupy one of the other turrets, and Ruard and Catriona have the other.”

“What of King Malcolm?”

He twined their fingers together. “He never resides within a keep. There will be a tent on a knoll. Not that I expect he will rest. From long experience, the two kings will slake their lust and then meet at dawn to finish their negotiations.”

“And you, my lord Jarvik? Do you intend to beat me?”

Chapter Six

Jarvik swatted Elaina’s backside as they began the climb to the turret. “Think you I would beat any I claim as mine?”

“’Twas what you said earlier.” Elaina picked up her skirts and doubled her pace. “Many husbands beat their wives.”

“Did your father?”

She snorted. “Nay. Mama would have never survived such treatment and Da well knew it.”

He embraced her from behind once they reached the turret’s small round room. “Such sadness in your voice, sweetling. Why?”

“Mama never understood why any should call her whore…and more. But the Highland women called her whore and worse because she had had two masters.”

“Not once during my fostering did I ever hear any refer to your mother but as the lady of the keep and the Queen of Strathclyde.” Jarvik tucked a lock of hair behind one ear.

Her heartfelt sigh had his chest aching. “And none would have under pain of death. ’Twas all good once we had no visitors. But when they came, the noblewomen would cast scornful glances her way and mine. It ate away at her soul. She never understood what she had done to be treated so.”

Jarvik tugged her over to the bed and sat with her in his lap. “I was at your father’s keep for two seasons, and I never saw any unhappiness in either your mother or your father. Truly, I marveled at how idyllic their relationship seemed.”

Tilting her head to meet his see him clearly, she said, “From birth Mama was trained to do one thing and one thing only, to serve her master. That she did this well was her pride and joy. That others scorned her, confused her. Mama would not defend herself, just bow her head and retreat to her chamber. I truly believe if ’twere not for the Highland women, she would’ve been happy.”

“And what happened this eve? What says that to you?” Jarvik cradled her face and wished he had lit more than one lamp, for shadows hid her expression.

When she didn’t answer, he rolled them into a slash of moonlight and saw the hint of tears in her slanted eyes. Blinking, she cleared her throat. “For the first time, I have hope. But Jarvik, Eógan will not let it rest. I fear you have erred greatly in wedding me and claiming the girls.”

“Did I not tell you that I protect what is mine to the death?”

She thumped him on the shoulder. “I would have you live. Not rushing to defend me. I have no care for what any will say of me, but I do care about Kateri and Kitti. And what all will say of me will taint them.”

He kissed her nose, chin, the corner of one eye, and whispered, “You are Elaina the Virtuous now. None will gainsay that. Our people, those of my brothers’ keeps, all will call you Elaina the Virtuous. We are powerful men and can command loyalty. And we will be living far from the Highlands. Can you not give your trust over to me?”

“I can but try. Your brothers’ wives…what they did this eve…never had I expected such. And that Queen Ælfgifu…” She shook her head, and a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

Jarvik licked the moisture away, his thoughts torn between fury and an overwhelming protectiveness. His wife was not accustomed to the kindness of others. And no wonder, for her father had been too busy with his kingdom, his wife, then his wife’s sickness. Elaina had been left to fend on her own.

But by Loki’s toes, no longer. Ainslin, Catriona, Bettina, and Deidra would be a female siege wall for any noblewoman who tried to hurt Elaina. He and his brothers would handle the men. Jarvik decided to find a private moment with Queen Ælfgifu before her departure and give her his undying thanks.

The moment needed lightening. “We left before the chocolate spiced balls were served.”

She jerked to him and grinned. “Do men’s thoughts return to such every other moment?”

“Nay. Not every other. Aye, mayhap every. I fed you leek and I thought of your tempting thighs.” He leaned to one side and bunched the cyrtel to her waist. “I fed you a tiny carrot and my tongue yearned to tantalize your woman’s nub.” Jarvik brushed his nose on her belly and licked a wet path to the mahogany curls. He inhaled. “Ah sweetling, ’tis paradise to smell your honey. But sheer Valhalla to bury my face between your folds.”