Dangerous Talents (57 page)

Dahleven sat close to her, not quite touching. She wanted him to take her in his arms, but instead he leaned forward, hands knotted tightly together, elbows resting on his knees. Something was definitely bothering him.

A feeling of dread stole over her, but she laid a hand on his shoulder. “Just tell me.”

“A Jarl shouldn’t act impulsively, or only to please himself. He has his people to think of,” he stated flatly, not looking at her.

Gudrun’s warning surfaced in her mind and Cele’s throat tightened. What had she been thinking? That they had a future together? She hadn’t even realized she’d drifted into considering long-term possibilities. Here was her wake-up call. Dahleven knew his duty to Quartzholm and Nuvinland. He might want to sleep with her, but his honor would force him to make sure she knew what the rules were.

“Don’t,” Cele said, pulling her hand away. “I understand. I’m a wildcard in this world. All of your choices have political consequences, including who you sleep with.”

Dahleven nodded. “Nevertheless, I want you by my side, Celia.”

Cele’s breath caught in her throat.
By his side. As his
elskerinne?

She loved him. She wanted to be with him. An official mistress was, according to Gudrun, a respected person among the Nuvinlanders. They could be together—if she didn’t mind sharing him with a wife.

I can’t
.

Maybe half a loaf was better than none, but she couldn’t settle. It wasn’t enough. She wanted it all. Marriage. Love. Commitment. “No.” Her chest felt so tight she could barely breathe, but somehow she got the words out. “I won’t be your mistress.”

Dahleven straightened, his eyes wide, mouth agape.

Is he really that surprised at being refused
? Abruptly, she stood and walked away from him, stopping beside a massive pine, blinking back tears. She couldn’t stay here and watch him marry someone else. She’d Find the Elves. They might be able to send her home. The image of Galendir’s pale gracefulness and lithe strength rose in her mind. At the thought, her Talent pulled at her, tugging her attention up-slope. He wasn’t far. She could go to them now.

She imagined Elaine’s welcoming hug at finding her alive. All the big and little things like movie nights and microwave popcorn, the convenience of cell phones and cars, tampons and modern medicine would be hers again. She’d sleep in her own bed and have meaningful work to do. And if she somehow kept her Talent for Finding, she’d volunteer with Search and Rescue. She’d have a full life.

Why didn’t that seem like enough?

“Celia.” Dahleven caressed her upper arms, sending an intimate shiver through her body. “Being an
elskerinne
is an honorable thing—”

She opened her mouth to retort, but he didn’t give her the chance.

“—but I do not ask it of you.”

Confused, Cele turned to look at him as he took her hands in both of his.

“I will sacrifice and serve the people of Quartzholm in all things but this. I will choose my wife for the sake of my heart, not my position. I love you. Will you wed with me?”

Cele’s heart exploded with surprise, hope, and joy, but her mind couldn’t quite take it in. “What?”

Dahleven laughed. “I love you. Will you be my wife?”

She searched his face and saw only warmth and—nervousness?

She wanted to accept, but how could she marry someone after knowing him for two and a half weeks?
I knew Jeff for two years, and look what happened
. But Dahleven wasn’t Jeff—or her father.

As if he read her mind, Dahleven said, “I’m no Oathbreaker, Celia. I won’t leave you alone with my babe in your belly.”

Cele’s heart fell. “Is that what’s behind this? You think I might be pregnant?” Was he just trying to do the right thing? “Don’t worry—Thora gave me some of that tea to brew. Besides, you haven’t made me any promises. Your honor is safe.”

Dahleven looked taken aback. “A babe wouldn’t force our marriage, though I would stand by the child in any case. My offer is to
you
, and it
is
a promise.”

Hope threatened to choke her. She pushed it down ruthlessly. “Your mother won’t like it.”

Dahleven smiled. “How could she not welcome the woman who helped save Quartzholm from earthquake and fire? That’s what Jorund had planned, after all.”

“She’ll welcome me, all right.” Cele couldn’t keep all of the bitterness out of her voice. “As your mistress.”

“What?”

“She doesn’t think I’ll make a good wife for you. She thinks I should be your
elskerinne
since I don’t know all the ins and outs of your politics.”

“And what decision did the two of you come to about my future?” he asked acidly.

“I told her that since you hadn’t asked me to be either one I couldn’t agree or disagree…She didn’t like that answer.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “I expect not.”

“Then I told her I was going home, so I would be neither.”

Dahleven’s smile faded. “If that is your wish, I will help you seek out the Light Elves. Loloma is likely right. The old tales say the Fey once passed freely between Alfheim and Midgard. Though we have no magic to send you back, the Elves must know a way.”

Cele sucked in a sharp breath. There it was. She could go home. He would help her. She looked up the mountainside, into the forest, where her Talent told her the Elves lingered not far away.

Then she realized the enormity of what he offered.

“You would do that? For me? But if you took me to the Elves, everyone would know you’re Fey-marked!”

Dahleven spoke in a voice tight with emotion. “I can do no less. You saved my family and my home from death and destruction. I will do whatever it takes to see you happy—even if it means losing you.”

Cele stared. He would risk his rank and privilege, would risk
everything
to make her happy? On the mere chance the Elves could send her home—if that was what she wanted.

Did she?

Dahleven swallowed. “I know this world is strange to you, but I would have you stay here with me. I love you, Celia. Is it unfair of me to ask you to choose a new life so soon?”

The world expanded with joyful possibilities.

Then reality contracted painfully again. She shouldn’t let her judgment be overwhelmed by one that one little word.
Love
. It didn’t guarantee happiness. Jeff had used it often enough. “You hardly know me.”

“I know your character. I know you’re brave and compassionate and honest. The rest is detail. Detail I’d like to spend my life discovering.”

Cele was silent, overwhelmed by Dahleven’s unreserved declaration. “You’ll be Jarl one day,” she protested weakly. “I’ll want you to change things. Give women greater freedom and opportunity. Can you accept that? And Gudrun has a point. I don’t know how things work here. I won’t bring the strength of a political alliance with me.”

“Father is already working to improve the position of women, and—”

“Neven?” Cele asked, astounded.

Dahleven nodded and grinned. “Yes, and I agree with him, though I’d rather not discuss gender politics just now.” He grew more earnest. “The protocol you can learn. And your lack of connection with any of the other Jarldoms is as much an asset as a liability. Alliances can place awkward and difficult demands. Your unusual background will keep the Lords and Jarls and their ladies from easily taking your measure. And Mother already respects your strength and honesty.”

“She does?”

“So she said. Don’t let her worry you. Not many have the backbone to stand up to her. She rather liked that. She’ll accept you as my wife.”

Doubt lingered. “Your father will never allow it.”

“He already gave his blessing.”

Cele gaped. Neven had approved of her marrying his heir? Neven, who had bullied her unmercifully?

Again Dahleven seemed to read her mind. “He didn’t know who was working to topple Nuvinland and bring us to war with the Tewakwe. He hoped you would attract attention, and he needed you to be vulnerable to his enemy’s lure.”

“He used me as
bait
?” Cele exclaimed, pulling her hands free of his. “And you let him?”

“He didn’t ask my advice on the matter,” Dahleven growled.

“He could have told me what he had in mind, asked me to help, instead of…using me.”

“He didn’t tell
me
his plan until I forced the issue. And you couldn’t know Neven’s plan, or Jorund might have sniffed the lie with a Truth Sayer. That would have put you in even greater danger.”

“Even so, why set his dog on me? Gris practically accused me of murder!” Outrage sharpened her voice.

“I know. Sometimes I think the Chamberlain enjoys his work a little too much.” Dahleven clasped her fist between his palms. “But if Neven had been kind and helpful to you, would you have listened to Jorund?”

Cele growled. She’d never been so angry in her life, except at Jeff. That Dahleven was right didn’t make her any happier. “No,” she finally grated out. “I probably wouldn’t have, once I was away from his Persuasion.”

Dahleven waited silently, stroking with his callused hand until hers relaxed. Gradually, Cele’s anger faded. He loved her. How could she stay mad? He traced one thumb over her palm.
How could such a small gesture be so stimulating
? She pulled him closer for a kiss. She’d meant it to be quick, but the moment their lips met, she wanted more. Apparently, so did he.

Dahleven cupped her head and slipped his tongue into her mouth, teasing and caressing. His kiss was better than New York cheesecake drizzled with chocolate. All she wanted to do was nibble him up and swallow him down. His hand found her breast. Had anything ever felt so good? Her nipple rose and she pressed into his palm. He started to pull up her skirt. Cele wriggled against his arousal and Dahleven moaned. Then he froze.

“We can’t.” He dropped the hem of her dress. “Not here.”

Cele blinked, trying to think over the clamoring of her body. “Why not?”

“Sentries.”

She groaned. “Damn. I forgot.” She rested her head against his chest while she caught her breath.
Maybe we could sneak back to my tent
.

Dahleven interrupted her lustful thoughts. “There’s something else. Something you must agree to before we can marry.”

A ripple of dread ran down Cele’s back.
Now what
?

*

Dahleven took a deep breath. “Sorn was my sworn brother, and he died without children. Sevond has no one now. I—I’ve promised him my second son.” He tried to keep the hope and despair out of his face. A woman who married for position and power wouldn’t balk at his promise. Celia had no such ambitions. His oath could cost him his happiness, but there was no going back.

Celia frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Our son would take Sevondsson as his
paternavn
and at his fifth summer he would go to live with Sevond as his own blood. He wouldn’t inherit the Jarldom even if our other sons were lost to us, may Freyr forbid.”

Sevond lived in Quartzholm. The child wouldn’t be lost to her. He’d be closer than if he were fostered with another Jarl. Dahleven searched Celia’s expression. Her customs were different than his. Could she give up a child, even if she could see him every day?

He saw the anguish in her face and knew what she would say before she spoke. He could barely hear her words over the knife thrust of anticipated pain.

“I can’t do it. I’m sorry. Family is everything to me. My mother kept me and loved me even when her folks pressured her to give me up for adoption. I don’t think I could give up our child.”

Dahleven clenched his jaw, making the muscles jump. He nodded once. He could find no fault with her. “It’s not uncommon for us to foster our children away from home. I never thought before how it must rend a mother’s heart. Or a father’s.” Giving a child they’d made together into the care of another, even Sevond, now seemed more than he could do. But his word was given. He looked up, directly into her eyes. The love and understanding in her gaze stole his breath.

“You did it out of compassion.” Her tone was gentle.

She might forgive him, but there was no getting around this. He looked down at their clasped hands, dreading the answer to his next question. “Will you return to Midgard, then?”

She was silent for a long time. When she spoke, she sidestepped the question.

“I think Sevond may release you from your promise.”

Dahleven’s heart skipped a beat and he looked up sharply.

“Will you keep a secret?”

“As long as doing so is within my honor, yes.”

A grin stole over Celia’s face. “Aenid is pregnant with Sorn’s child.”

Delight burst in him, filling his chest. “Truly?”

She nodded and recounted the tale of Aenid and Sorn’s love for each other.

My sworn brother knew more than sisterly love before he died
. Dahleven laughed and hugged her and didn’t bother to wipe away the joyful tears that tracked his face. When he could speak, he said, “Sevond will be elated by this news. I believe you may be right. Knowing Sorn lives on through this child will likely give him sufficient reason to forgive my vow.”

He drew her close, and Celia nestled under his arm. It felt so right, as though she belonged there. Nevertheless, the tension still in her shoulders told Dahleven that her mind was unsettled. She had not yet given him an answer.

“What if Aenid’s child is a girl? Will that make a difference?”

He didn’t flinch from the truth. “Boy or girl, my promise stands. It’s Sevond’s choice alone whether to release me from it.” Dahleven fell silent, waiting for her decision.

*

Cele thought of the time she’d spent with Sevond, remembered the stories he’d told about his family. He was a good man, and he’d obviously been a loving father. Sorn had spoken of him with great affection.
But to give up our child, even to him
…

She ought to be angry with Dahleven for making such a rash promise, for forcing her to make this choice, but she didn’t have it in her. She understood why he’d done it. She took a shuddering breath and blinked at the tears that stung her eyes.