A Viking For The Viscountess (5 page)

Instinct warned her to stay in one place, but she had no idea what the man might do next. “Stay here, Harry,” she told him. “Open your primer, and read aloud to Grelod. I’ll be back in a few moments.” She set down the fur covering she’d wrapped around her shoulders and replaced it with a spare woolen cloak, since her other cloak was now at the bottom of the sea.

Outside, she closed the door behind her and hurried to follow Thorgrim. His pace was swift as he climbed the hillside behind the house, his movement fluid and strong. It was a struggle to catch up to him on the narrow path, but she hastened forward.

When they stood at the top of the hill, he shielded his eyes against the sun and stared out at the sea. Trouble and fury brewed within him, and she wondered if it had been a mistake to follow him.

He made no acknowledgement of her presence but sat down upon a large granite boulder. For a long time, his gaze remained upon the sea and on his ship anchored in the harbor. “This is not Asgard,” he said at last. “I am caught between worlds.”

She kept a safe distance away, not understanding. “What do you mean?” The look in his eyes was of a man lost. Beneath his fierce demeanor, she saw a glimmer of uncertainty.

“I do not know why I was summoned here,” he answered. “Or why you were sent to me.”

“I—I wasn’t sent to you,” she protested. “I told you, the wind carried my ship out to sea.”

“So you say.” He stood up and drew nearer. “I was killed in battle, a day ago. Why am I not dead?”

The intensity in his voice frightened her. His words were of a madman, incomprehensible. She took another step backward, a harsh chill rising over her skin. He believed this, didn’t he? And that made him dangerous.

Before she could flee, he pulled her back from the edge of the path, his hands closing around her waist. “Are you an evil spirit, sent by Freya to tempt me from the afterworld? Is that why you gave yourself to me?” He gripped her closer, until her body merged against his.

Fear seized her mind, but her body was well aware of the hard lines of this man. He was ruthless and without mercy.

And yet, she sensed that he was also afraid.

“I am not a spirit,” she said calmly. “You seduced me while I was unconscious. I didn’t know what was happening.”

“You were willing. And eager.”

She shook her head, her heartbeat stumbling within her chest. It had been a dream, one that had pulled her from the harsh reality of life and had given her a moment of forbidden pleasure.

His hands moved down to her hips, drawing her nearer. “Are you a witch?”

“No.” The whisper was barely audible, and he bent his face to hers. His heated breath warmed her cheek, and he brought his hands to cradle her face.

“Admit that you are a test from the gods.” His mouth nipped at hers, as if to coax the truth from her lips. Though his kiss was only meant to provoke her, she felt the pull of temptation. And she could not dare tread upon that path toward sin.

“I am nothing more than a woman trying to protect her son. I don’t know who you are or what any of this means.” Emotion tightened inside her, and she wished he would simply leave.

Her words hung between them, and he drew back to regard her. “I saw things in your home. Things that are not of this world. A likeness of a woman that could be drawn by no human hands.”

He was speaking of the oil portrait of her mother, she realized. But how could he think it was not of this world?

He gripped her shoulders in an unmistakable warning. “Tell me what place this is, woman. When I sailed away from land, a storm took my ship and brought me here.”

“This is…England,” she whispered. “I don’t know what you—”

“When?” he demanded. “The seasons are different. It was summer when I left.”

“It’s February,” she whispered. “February of 1811.”

His face was harsh, like a stone battered by the sea. “You lie to me, woman.” His hands tightened over her shoulders. “Do not believe I am a fool.”

A liar, was she? This had gone too far.

Juliana shoved him back with all of her strength. “Why would I lie to you? I hardly know you at all. You saved my life, and I have offered my gratitude for that. But since then, you’ve done nothing but order me around.” Her own anger surged, for she didn’t deserve his fury. “You can believe whatever you wish, but I’ve spoken the truth.”

She turned her back on him and began walking home. The man was impossible, clearly angry and half-potted. But a moment later, she heard his footsteps behind her.

“Wait.”

She didn’t know what it was that made her stop, but she heard the note of fear in his voice. “What is it?” Still, she remained with her back to him.

“You said…it is the year 1811?”

“Yes.”

“You are certain of this?”

She did turn around then. “My son was born in September of 1805. Of course I am certain.”

Thorgrim’s face whitened, but he held his ground. “Then I am cursed, it seems. For I was supposed to die a thousand years ago.”

“There’s no such thing as a curse.” Although his clothing did resemble a Viking’s, she refused to believe that a man could cross through time. Such a thing was impossible.

Just as it was impossible for a boat to pull her out to sea without anyone commanding it. Or to drift miles from shore within a matter of minutes.

A chill settled inside her veins, for she could see that he believed it.

“But there is a curse, Juliana of Arthur. And now, I must learn how to break it.”

The young woman standing before him had doubt in her eyes. She didn’t at all believe that a thousand years had passed. But Arik knew. Somehow, he’d known, from the first moment sunlight had illuminated her clothing, that she was not of his world—or of his time. Juliana was unlike the other women he’d met. Perhaps she was a blooded descendant of Svala, meant to haunt him in death. Or perhaps the mischievous god Loki had rewoven time, bringing them together.

He let her walk away while he sat back upon the stone to think. Somehow, he believed that Juliana was the key to unlocking his journey to immortality. His death had not brought him to Valhalla; instead, it had brought him to her.

He couldn’t understand what he was meant to do. Her home was fine enough, though it needed repairs. It would be easy to provide her with food and protection. But any man could give her the same. As beautiful as she was, it would not be difficult for her to find a guardian. He remembered her soft body and the way it had curved into him, welcoming him with warmth and passion. Beneath her cool dignity lay a woman of intensity who had given him a night he’d not soon forget.

Arik stood up and continued down the path, intending to bring home fish to feed them. It did not appear that Juliana had stored enough to survive the rest of the winter. He walked down the narrow pathway toward the sea and saw her standing upon the sand, staring out at the gray water. Unhappiness cloaked her demeanor, the lines of worry creasing her face. She watched her son emerge from the house, and he laughed as he ran along the shore. Harry was chased by the older woman, who began scolding him. Juliana watched the pair, and the worry in her eyes was evident. She did love the boy. There was a gentleness there, her eyes softening while she watched him.

He continued walking until he reached her side. “If you have nets, I will go and bring back fish for your family this night.”

She nodded. “My father has some nets.” She told him where to find them, but then added, “But it isn’t necessary. I have bread and some vegetables. We’ll be fine.”

He saw that she was still looking at her son. “Something troubles you about your boy. Is there a threat I should know of? Has an enemy attacked?”

A rueful smile lifted her mouth. “In a way. But it’s not an enemy either of us can fight. My husband’s brother claims that my son is a bastard and has taken the lands that were entailed to Harry.”

“Would you like me to kill him for you?”

She laughed, though he’d been serious in the offer. “You can’t go and kill a man just because he stole an inheritance. I’ve been seeking help from solicitors, and—”

“If he is dead, the land is yours for the taking.” Arik began to glimpse the possibilities. If he had to prove his bravery in battle, this might be the means. Once he had slain her enemy, the gods might grant him the right to spend eternity with the other warriors. His gaze settled upon the young boy. For a child, he had shown no fear. Harry was inquisitive and it was likely that the boy could be taught to be a strong fighter. Arik could understand Juliana’s need to guard him.

“You will show me the lands your son has lost,” he demanded. “We will hire warriors to help us, and I will see that he is restored to what is rightfully his.”

Juliana shook her head. “If you try to take Hawthorne House by force, you’ll end up in prison or hanged for it. I do appreciate your offer, however.” Her hands moved around her waist as if she could press the fear back inside her. “Still, this is my battle to face.”

“By hiding in your father’s house?”

“I’m not hiding. It’s just that…finding the evidence takes time. Once I’ve proven that my marriage was legal, I can be the viscountess once more.”

From her tone, it sounded like she was trying to avoid her enemy. Arik preferred a more direct approach, but he didn’t doubt that he could achieve the same results. He would learn more about her enemy and later decide how to help her.

“I will go fishing and take the boy with me,” he offered. “He’s old enough to learn.”

As he’d predicted, Juliana was already shaking her head with refusal. “No. He can’t swim and he might fall overboard.”

“I would never let him drown. My own father took me on his boat as soon as I could walk.” A sudden ache caught him at the memory, knowing that he would never see Valdr again. They had fought bitterly when Arik had left, and he wished he could go back and change what he’d said. He had thoughtlessly told his father that he never wanted to see him again—and now he never would. Regret curled within him at the thought.

“You cannot take Harry with you,” Juliana insisted. “You’re a stranger to me, and I’m not about to let my son go off with a man who claims he is over a thousand years old.”

His temper flared up, that she would treat him like one whose mind had wandered away. Words of denial rose to his lips, but instead of voicing them, he offered, “Then come with us to guard him as you will. What harm is there?”

“Last night, I nearly drowned. There’s a great deal of harm.”

“And I saved you,” he pointed out. His tone deepened as he thought of her bare skin against his. “I warmed you with my own flesh.”

She paled at the memory, and her voice came out in a whisper. “What happened between us was a mistake.”

“Was it?” He took her hand in his and drew it to his chest. “Or was it our fate?” Her palm was delicate beneath his, her gray eyes filled with doubt.

Before she could protest again, he added, “We shall make a wager on it. You and the boy will go out on the boat with me, and we will see who brings in the most fish. If you win the wager, I am yours to command. If I win—” He let his voice drift away, letting her imagination conjure the rest.

“I will not be yours to command,” she said emphatically.

“Not yet, Juliana. But there will come a time when you will want what I have to offer.”

Her cheeks flushed, though he’d been speaking of his protection. Though he did not know why the gods had summoned him into her world, he believed that helping her was necessary to winning his immortality. This woman was alone with no one to guard her, and her lands had been taken. If he conquered her enemies, surely that would be enough to lift whatever curse had brought him here. He could prove that he was a warrior of strength and bravery, one who deserved to be with the gods.

“I want you to leave,” she said. “There is no need for a wager.”

He made her nervous—he could see it in her eyes. But the wager was merely an excuse to remain at her side. “I cannot leave until I learn why I was brought to you. My afterlife depends on it.”

He was convinced that he was trapped between worlds, between the immortality he wanted and the mortal world of a thousand years later. Somehow he had been found unworthy to enter Asgard to celebrate with the gods in Valhalla. And whether it was Odin watching over him or whether this was a trick of Loki, he was certain that he was meant to aid this woman.