He spoke simply, without boastfulness and his words rang all the harder for their simplicity. "I am Dragon Hakonson, Lord of Landsende, and I have indeed come to claim my bride."
Scarcely had he uttered those words than Rycca began to laugh, at first softly, then helplessly. She doubled over, holding her waist, as the sheer, horrifying absurdity of it all overwhelmed her. She had risked her life to flee from the very man to whom she had given herself and who stood now before her, outraged because she had betrayed him with...himself.
I pledged to make this marriage. Now it is a matter of honor."
"Honor is a cold bedfellow.
She poked him lightly with her elbow. "You aren't asleep, are you?"
Without opening his eyes, Hawk sighed. "Why is it women always want to talk?"
She poked him harder. "Women?"
He opened one eye, cautiously. "Did I say that? I mean woman, of course, just one very singular, very adorable, occasionally maddening woman."
"Is Dragon very upset?"
"Men don't get upset. We get angry, enraged, irritated, bewildered, amused, and, very rarely, flummoxed, but never upset."
"Which is he?"
Hawk hesitated. He stopped pretending to sleep and gathered his wife closer. When her head was back down on his chest where it rightly belonged, he said, "I think he's hurt."
"I was afraid of that.She's very beautiful.
There seemed to be some...irregularity in your coming here," the priest said delicately. Thus did he characterize her arrival, bruised and battered, in the arms of her betrothed rather than under the decorous escort of her family.
Josie LittonSo too did any doubts about the involvement of Loki, god of mischief. That capricious deity was clearly up to his old tricks. How else to explain how a man who adored women-and who was adored by them-found himself with a bride who faced the marriage bed with less enthusiasm than she would a viper-infested den?
Josie LittonWhat had she told the priest?
Hawk had said their holy man could not perform the wedding unless he was sure the bride was willing. Had there ever been one less so?
Her eyes were downcast, she would not meet his gaze no matter how fiercely he willed her to do so. But the priest was smiling. He nodded to Dragon even as he addressed Hawk.
"Ah,well,now that is taken care of. We will proceed as you wish, my lords."
"Immediately then," Hawk said. He did a decent enough job of hiding his relief but Dragon wasn't fooled. Until that moment, not even the Lord of Essex had been sure the marriage would take place.
Krysta appeared at Rycca's side. She spoke to her softly, distracting her as she guided her to a small room off the great hall. There the bride would wait while the guests, her scowling family, and one stern-faced groom assembled in the chapel.
He could not be absolutely certain she would not get away-again.
In the dark of night, haunted by such grim thoughts, Dragon found consolation. He had a fleet of ships at the ready. Before his willing Saxon bride could don boy's garb, run off a cliff, or plunge into a river, he would have her safely aboard and at sea. Damned if he wouldn't.
He felt better after that and even dozed a little but was up and dressed before dawn's gray fingers peeled night away.
Men, women, and children she had never seen before and whom she had been schooled to think of as enemies were cheering her as though she were one of their own. She could make out only a little of what they said but she knew they were encouraging and welcoming her. Tightness welled up in her throat. She looked from the crowd to her husband, who was gazing back at her with genuine pride in his eyes. Without thought, she reached out a hand across the space that separated them. He took it and raised it to his lips.
The cheers rose to heaven.
For the first time in her life, Rycca felt what it was to come home.
Speaking of full of dirt, I am hardly fit company but in the spirit of wifely tolerance I wonder if you will accompany me to a pool a little ways from here."
He meant to bathe. The memory of him emerging from the sauna at the lodge flashed through her mind. Her mouth was suddenly dry. "I thought Vikings liked to boil themselves first."
"Ordinarily I would agree with you, but if I get into a sauna now, I will fall asleep."
"You are tired from your exertions on the trailing field?"
The look he trailed over her was purely male and so evocative as to warm her clear through. "I am tried from my exertions in our bed,lady,as I suspect you well know."
"That is a relief!"
He looked at her in surprise, prompting a red face and a quick explanation. "I meant that I could not help but think of you toiling as usual while I slept half the day away and felt myself shamed for such sloth."
"Oh,well, if it's any consolation to you, I fell asleep under a tree, to the great hilarity of my men, who are not likely to let me forget it anytime soon."
She laughed,tension coiling, and without hesitation she held out her hand to him.
For once in her life, the thought of being on the back of a magnificent horse did not command Rycca's attention. She was far too busy looking at her magnicifent husband as he removed his sword belt and blithely shucked off his trousers. Naked, he walked straight into the pool, submerged completely, and came up a few minutes later, tossing streams of water from the thick mane of his hair.
"Hand me the soap,would you?"
Such a simple task, yet to fulfill it he would have to come closer.Or she would.
"That's a lovely gown," he said, smiling.
"All my gowns are lovely thanks to the Lady Krysta and your own generosity."
"It would be a shame to get it wet."
She looked at him in alarm, wondering if he would actually do such a thing. His answer was a look of pure innocence, which immediately confirmed her suspicions.
"Do you have any idea how any women must have labored so long to make this gown?"
"No,do you?"
"Well,no,not actually because I never had a gown like this before, but even so, surely you wouldn't do anything to damage it?"
"Just to be safe,why don't you take it off?"
Oh,yes,that would certainly be safe. Indeed,never was she any safer than when was she naked and in his arms. Except, of course, from the danger of her own emotions.
"I bathed when I awoke."
"The day is warm."
"The pool looks deep.Recall, I cannot swim."
"Recall I mean to teach you.
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