Beyond the Sea Mist (29 page)

And—the gods curse him—he still wanted her.

He got up from the bed and strode to the corner where he’d left his clothing. He grabbed up one of the armbands he’d been wearing under his tunic and threw it on the bed. “Here. Is this what you wish?”

He seized the two daggers and dumped them next to the armband. Digging in the secret pouch of the tunic, he seized the amulets and dropped them beside the rest of the metalwork. “I’ve traded the rest of it—to pay the crew, to buy you things, to arrange this house for the night. That’s all I have left. Is it enough to satisfy you?”

She stared at the precious objects. “Magnus...I...” Her forehead creased in a frown. “You don’t understand. I tried to tell you earlier. I need the metalwork to get back to Ireland. And, once I’m there, to hire warriors to avenge my family and regain our lands.”

Magnus couldn’t quite believe what she’d said. It was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “You can’t do that. It’s impossible. Even if you were a man, it would be ridiculous for you to imagine you could do such a thing.”

Magnus got up and went to the other room of the dwelling. The food and wine he’d bought still sat on the table, untouched. He went to table and grasped the handle of the bronze ewer and poured some wine into one of the glass beakers. He picked up the beaker and swirled the garnet red liquid around in circles. The wine reminded him of blood...like the faint streaks on Ailinn’s thighs, the clear evidence of their coupling.

He took a swallow of the wine. The wine was sweet, but even the pleasing taste of it couldn’t banish the tight feeling in his stomach. He wanted this woman, wanted her with all his heart. But he wasn’t prepared for her to be consumed with vengeance toward her enemies.

Perhaps that was how princesses were—at least Irish princesses. They didn’t have the usual feminine longings for a hearth and home and babies. They wanted to avenge themselves and their families and regain what they believed belonged to them.

He took another swallow of wine. Then another. He longed to forget what she’d said, to go back to where they were a short while ago. Enjoying each other’s bodies, writhing in each other’s arms like wild creatures.

He wouldn’t let what she’d told him ruin this night. So long he’d planned for this, and he wanted to hold her and love her long into the night. No one would expect them back at the ship until well into the morn.

Magnus watched as Ailinn went to where her discarded clothing lay and picked up her gown.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting dressed.”

He was beside her in three quick strides. “Nay, you’re not.”

“I...I’m cold.”

He took hold of her arm. “I know a way to warm you.”

“Magnus...please...” She sounded desperate. A moment later, the tone of her voice altered. “I’m sore and tired. Please leave me be.”

He felt a stab of anger, thinking she said these things to put him off. Then he realized it might be true. There was every reason to think she might be sore. She was so small, and he hadn’t been altogether gentle. Once he was inside her, he’d lost control. He recalled the streaks of blood on her thighs. When blood was shed, there was usually pain.

“I will bathe you,” he said. “So you’re not so uncomfortable.”

“Nay!”

“Aye.” He tightened his grip on her arm. “Come.”

As Magnus guided her to the bathing tub, Ailinn felt a choking panic. Heaven help her, she couldn’t bear to have him touch her
there
!

When they reached the tub, he let go of her arm and got down on his knees. He took the drying cloth lying there and dipped it in the bathwater. As he lifted the hem of the shift, Ailinn felt her mouth go dry. She envisioned him touching her damp, tender parts with the cloth. It would feel wonderful. All her will to resist him, to push him away would dissolve.

“Nay!” she cried, pushing him away.

She saw anger darken his eyes. Good. She must make him hate her.

Then his expression changed. “What are you afraid of, Ailinn? Why do you fear me?"

“I...I don’t.”

“Then why won’t you let me touch you? You were eager enough for it earlier. Why do you resist me now?”

“I told you...I’m tired and sore. I want only to sleep.”

His blue eyes fixed on her. He seemed to be assessing her words, trying to decide if she were being truthful. “I’m trying to help you. If you’re sore, I’m certain you would feel better if you washed.”

“I will wash.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But you must leave first.”

“Nay. I’ll stay and watch you.”

“I have to relieve myself. Do you also wish to watch me do that?”

She knew a sense of satisfaction when his face flushed with embarrassment. Aye, that was the way to be rid of him.

“There’s a chamber pot in the other room. Under the bed. I’ll wait here until you are finished.”

Curse him! He had answer for everything.
She walked stiffly into the other room and stared at the bed. Now, what should she do? If she stayed here, he would eventually come after her. With the bed right there, it would be far too easy for him to...

She took a sharp breath. It was too much to endure. She had to fight not only him, but her own desires. A lump of emotion built in her throat. She felt the tears coming. No matter how hard she fought them, she couldn’t keep them from seeping from her eyes.

She sat down on the bed as the waves of anguish washed over her. Even when she angered Magnus, he managed to remain calm and considerate. It wasn’t fair she couldn’t have him, that she dare not give in to her feelings. She loved him, there was no doubt of it. The thought of never seeing him again filled her with a grief so sharp it was like a knife to her belly.

Yet, she must not forget her duty...her duty...

“Ailinn. Sweeting. What’s wrong?”

His tender words provoked even greater despair. She cried harder. When he sat on the bed beside her and put his arms around her, the tears became a flood. She put her face against his chest and sobbed.

He held her until her weeping began to ease. Eventually, embarrassment overtook her distress. She pushed away from him and went into the other room to wipe her face and nose on the drying cloth.

When she looked up, he was there. He looked so big and solid...so wonderful. She wanted to collapse into his arms and let him hold her forever.

The pathetic direction of her thoughts almost shamed her into crying once again. What was it about this man? She’d never met anyone like him before. He looked so powerful and fierce--and he was, when it was necessary. But underneath that brute masculinity, he could also be gentle and kind. She’d met a man she believed could make her happy for the rest of her days. And—somehow, some way—she must give him up.

She took a breath, fighting the wretched tears that threatened once more. At last, she had the composure to face him. She met his gaze. “I love you, Magnus. I wish it weren’t so, but ‘tis true. Yet, even though you are dearer to me than anyone alive, I can’t ever give you what you wish. I can’t be your meek, compliant thrall. No matter where you take me or how kindly you treat me, I’ll always seek to return to Ireland. I have no choice. I have a duty to avenge my family. It may make no sense to you. You may never understand how a woman could feel this way. How I burn with hatred toward my enemies. A hatred so fierce that it consumes me, leaving me with very little to give you, or anyone else.”

She touched her belly. “Even if your seed should grow inside me and produce a child, I fear I couldn’t love it as I should. For always, I would be thinking of how I must return to Ireland and take back my family’s lands and kill those who stole them away. Even if I knew for certain I would die doing these things, I would still have to try. ‘Tis in my blood. I’m a Donovan. My ancestors were warriors and kings. I must not shame them.”

Despite the grim things she was saying, all Magnus could think of was how magnificent she looked. So proud and determined. So bold and defiant.

He’d been a fool to think he could possess something so rare and fine. Women like Ailinn weren’t destined to end up as the concubine—or even wife—of a farmer’s son. She was meant to wed a king, or at least a jarl.

But what was the difference between a jarl and someone like him? It was only wealth, and the power that came with it. And he had wealth now. Two ships and a decent amount of silver. There wasn’t any reason he couldn’t wed Ailinn. Except for what she’d just told him. He would always come second to her goal of returning to Ireland and reclaiming her heritage.

If she were a man, he would be in awe of her fortitude, her single-mindedness. But why should he feel any different because she was a woman? If he accepted that her pride and determination was part of what he loved about her, why should he condemn her for what he would find noble and worthy in a man?

He smiled at her. “I love you, too, Ailinn. And admire you. If you were a man, I would be in awe of you. But you’re a woman.”

He felt the fire race through him even as he said the words. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. Even being captain of a fine ship. He had that, and it was nothing compared to his yearning for Ailinn.

He looked her straight in the eyes. “I understand that you can’t forsake your plan to avenge your family. And so, I’ve decided what I must do.”

Ailinn’s heart pounded with dread and expectation as she watched Magnus. Had he decided to sell her after all, so she wouldn’t bedevil him any longer? Or, perhaps he’d take her back to Ireland. She wasn’t certain it mattered what he decided. Either way, her heart would be shattered. Either way, she would lose him. She swallowed hard, fearing what he would say.

He took a step toward her. “I'll take you to Ireland.”

Even though it was what she wanted, Ailinn felt her insides clench with despair.

“And I'll stay with you there for awhile,” he continued. “You need a strong warrior to fight for you. I’ll do my best to help you regain your family’s lands.”

Ailinn stared at him. He was an exceptionally generous man, but this...this was too much. She couldn’t let him risk his life and give up his dreams for her. “Nay,” she said. “’Tis not right. ’Tis not your battle.”

He took another step nearer. “You have no say in my decision. Since this is the only way I can ever hope to make you happy and content, this is what I must do.”

She felt the tears threaten once again. Despite his harsh tone, she knew his decision for what it was—a gift of love.

“Magnus...I...” What could she say? How could she respond to such an amazing offer? Then another thought came to her. “’Twill be very dangerous. It’s possible—even likely—you’ll be killed. I couldn’t bear that.”

He raised his brows. “And you think I could bear to lose you? Perhaps we’ll both die. Perhaps not. If we use the wealth I have left to hire warriors to aid us, we might have a chance.”

“But what about your crew? What about the
Dragonsbreath
and the
Seawolf
?”

Magnus shrugged. “The ships mean less to me than you do.”

Ailinn knew a sense of amazement. How had she been fortunate enough to have this fine man fall in love with her?

“For that matter...” Magnus began to pace. “Some of the crew might decide to join in the fight. Many of Croa’s men are more warriors than seamen. If they knew they might obtain a share of the spoils...” He stopped pacing and met her gaze. “If we defeat your enemy, then we can claim his land and property—isn’t that true?”

“Aye,” Ailinn answered. “I want only what belonged to my family...and also to see MacTighe suffer the same fate as my brothers and father.”

“Land and property should be more than enough to tempt some men, especially those who’ve been sailing the seas for many years.”

Of course, Magnus thought, there would be men like Vibold who knew nothing else but being a seaman. They would never agree to live on land. But the others... A plan formed in his mind. He would offer the men the choice of joining his warband or staying on the ships. But someone must take charge of the vessels. Whom could he trust? Orm, certainly, but he didn’t know if his friend would want the responsibility. Orm was more a follower rather than a leader...

But those decisions could wait. This was the night he’d dreamed of for so long, and he wasn’t going to waste it thinking about practical details. Now that he’d given Ailinn what she wished, there shouldn’t be any obstacle to enjoying each other a while longer. As he allowed himself to contemplate the delights ahead of them, his gaze fell on the food and he realized how hungry he was. Their lovemaking had been strenuous, and he hadn’t eaten for many hours. He motioned to the table. “Let us eat.”

She nodded.

He pushed the bench by the bathing tub over to the table and gestured for her sit down. Then he went into the other chamber and put on his trews. When he returned, she was daintily chewing on a piece of the roasted fowl. “There’s also cheese seasoned with garlic,” he said. “And curds with bilberries.”

“And fresh bread,” she said, gesturing. “You don’t know how wonderful this is, Magnus. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten well.” She made a face. “Croa hardly gave us anything but saltfish and water.”