Surrender My Love (32 page)

She had also wondered about that, his amusement, yet could she make no sense of it. Any other man would have been furious over what she had done today, especially since she had done it in front of his men. Another man might have beat her then and there. Of course, Selig couldn’t do that with Turgeis there to stop him. Yet he could have punished her in some lesser way, and even Turgeis had to draw the line at interfering when she
was
in the wrong.

Part of her continued anger was defensive for that very reason. She shouldn’t have attacked him and reviled him so publicly. She had been wrong to do that, and worse, for such a stupid reason. It was no wonder his friends found it so entertaining. Husbands were
never
faithful. Why should Selig be any different? But she still couldn’t figure out why he had found her “jealousy” so amusing.

She was still watching him when he began to remove his clothing. Tunic, cross-garters, leggings, boots, all were tossed up on the bank near her. It was dark enough, and he was deep enough in the water, that she didn’t feel she
had to look away—yet. But this was what she had expected to begin with. Where he was concerned, she couldn’t help but be suspicious of his every action, and in particular, his attempts to use that potent charm of his on her. And his smiles. His smiles had to be most suspect.

Damned Viking. Why did he have to be so different from other men? Why did he have to be so desirable?

It is not in his nature to hurt women
.

Nay, just those who were foolish enough to love him.

“I like it not, swimming alone,” he called up suddenly in a coaxing tone.

“Then you brought the wrong woman with you,” she called back.

“I brought the right one.”

His answer started a glow inside her that she refused to acknowledge. Aware of her feelings now, she feared it was going to be even harder for her to resist his charm. Yet she had to. He was a man born to seduce women. Nothing he said could be taken seriously.

She moved back to find a spot where she could sit comfortably among the flowers. He tried once more to get her into the water before he gave up. Yet he took an inordinately long time at his “washing,” and she was growing warm, watching him.

Finally she asked him, “Will they not hold up the meal until we return?”

“Not tonight, for we eat here,” he replied. “If you are hungry, you can start without me. You will find the food in my saddle.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to argue with him. She didn’t want to stay there any longer. The place was too—romantic, the breeze warm, the scent of flowers heavy in the air, the water lapping lazily at the bank. And so private. Entirely too private.

She fetched the food just to distract herself, and the wine she found she started on right away. But it didn’t soothe her nerves as she had hoped, or rather, it did too much, because she didn’t even think to look away when Selig walked out of the water a while later.

The moon had come out by then, and it was a bright one. Before she had drunk the wine, she would have considered that unfortunate, but now all she could think was what a magnificent, pagan sight her husband was, emerging from the water, a veritable gift from the gods. She had the strangest urge to reach out and touch him, just to be sure he was real. And then the urge was to touch him for other reasons.

She jumped to her feet when she realized what was happening to her. The wineskin was grasped in her hand like a weapon, though she wasn’t even aware she held it. He hadn’t said a word, hadn’t touched her, and yet she was seduced.

She swung around so she couldn’t see him. And all she could think to say was, “You will become ill, wearing those wet clothes.”

“I brought clean ones.”

“Then put them on.”

“’Tis the first time I have felt cool all day,” he replied. “You would deny me that when there is no one here to see me but you, and you are already acquainted with my body, clothed or not?”

Put like that, it would have been unreasonable of her to do so. “Aye,” she said anyway.

His chuckle was deep and sounded wickedly pleased. But no sooner did it end than his hands slipped over her breasts, pulling her back against his wet chest. Her gasp was silent. Her senses whirled.

“What is it you fear, little Dane?” was whispered at her ear. “What you make me feel, or what I make you feel?”

Both!
her mind screamed, but actual words were lost to her already. His one hand stayed at her breasts, but the other had slid over her belly and somehow worked its way between her legs, despite her chainse and gown being in the way. And his mouth had fastened on her neck, was moving slowly upward…

Across the lake, Royce moved back from the bank and put a finger to his lips to caution his wife to be quiet. Those lips were grinning.

“’Tis a good thing we saw his horse,” he whispered to Kristen, who had stayed back with their own mounts at his direction. “I do not think your brother would appreciate our joining him just now.”

“You mean…?”

“Exactly.”

“So you were right. He cannot even hate a woman with any real conviction.”

He laughed at her disgruntled tone. “I did not say he was with his wife.”

“Nor did you have to, after Thorolf came by to relate what happened today—and Selig’s reaction to it. Do you ask me, my brother does not know
what
he wants.”

“At the moment, I would say he does.”

At the end of the lake, it was Brenna who was amused, and Garrick who was annoyed that he wouldn’t be cooling off in the lake, at least not tonight. Unlike Royce and Kristen, who had been at the Wyndhurst village and thought to swim before they returned home, Garrick and Brenna had come straight from the hall. So they had each approached the lake from different directions, the reason that they had not seen one another. Yet both couples had seen Selig’s horse.

As Garrick helped Brenna back into her saddle, he wondered aloud, “Do you suppose he might be done quickly and we should wait?”

“If he is anything like you, love—”

“Never mind. And do not say, ‘I told you so.’ I would have preferred some other way of finding out that he likes his wife more than he would have us think.”

Brenna just laughed.

Chapter 41

T
HE DREAM WOKE
Selig, causing him to sit up so abruptly, he disturbed Erika. It was not the first time he had had that dream, but it was the first time he recalled it so vividly. Even the pain in his head was back, as if he had just received the blow.

“What is it?” Erika asked sleepily.

“I have remembered where I saw Lord Durwyn.”

“Who?”

He threw off the covers to leave the bed. “I must speak to my family,” was his only answer.

Her eyes opened wide. “’Tis the middle of the night,” she pointed out.

He was already dressing. “This cannot wait.”

Immediately, her eyes narrowed on him. “You do not need an excuse to leave this bed. Just go.”

That got his full attention, the words as well as the caustic tone, and he would have had to be dense not to realize what she thought. “You are the most suspicious woman I have ever met.”

“With you, there is ample reason to be,” she retorted.

“Nay, there is no reason to be. Contrary to your opinion, dear wife, I do
not
make a habit of lying. If I tell you I had no interest in Lida and never laid so much as a hand on her except to set her away from me, you can believe it. If I also tell you I have known so many women that I cannot possibly name them all, you can believe that. So why would I deny having one woman out of so many?”

“Because this one you had
after
you married!”

He gave her a long, exasperated look before he said, “Get dressed.”

“Why?”

“Because you are coming with me. And I tell you now, I am seriously considering putting you back on a leash and keeping you with me for every hour of the day. Then, by Thor, you will not accuse me further of what I have not done.”

Considering that last threat, and that it was uttered with notable heat, Erika chose not to argue with him any further on the subject, or about going with him. She got dressed, and hastily, then met him out in the nearly enclosed bailey. She had only one more comment to make when she saw him lead just one horse forward.

“I have been in your stable, Selig. I know you have a great many horses available. Am I never to be permitted to ride one?”

That got a smile out of him at last. “I am a lecher, remember? Lechers prefer to have women cuddling next to them whenever the opportunity presents itself.”

“I do not cuddle,” she snorted, yet the urge was there to laugh.

Her brother had been correct about him after all, she was learning. When Selig wasn’t pursuing revenge, he could be very amusing and enjoyable to be around. And he had started using his sense of humor against her, just as he used those sensual smiles.

He had made love to her at the lake. He had made love to her again when he came with her to bed tonight. Obviously, he was still intent on a new beginning—or he was just enjoying the novelty of a new woman. There was even a worse possibility, that this was merely another form of revenge for him, that he wanted her to love him because that would give him new ways to hurt her once he was sure she did.

Whatever his motive, she was going to stand firm against him for her own protection. She was not going to let her feelings grow any deeper than they were. And she was going to try, desperately, to ignore those feelings she had already discovered. Hopefully, he would grow tired of having to coax her each time he wanted to bed her. And hopefully, she would not go berserk again when he did finally give up and seek out others instead.

There were a few hours yet before dawn when they arrived at Wyndhurst. Selig had changed his mind by then about waking his
entire family. Only Royce was summoned, and they waited for him in Selig’s old room so the servants sleeping in the hall would not be disturbed by their talk. Several candles had been lit by the time he joined them.

“You decided you like it better here?” were Royce’s first, dryly uttered words.

For once, Selig did not reply with a sally. “I regret waking you, but I felt you might want to act immediately on what I have to tell you.”

Royce’s expression turned instantly serious. “Then tell me.”

“The day I moved back to my hall, I noticed a man here who seemed familiar to me, yet could I not recall where or when I might have met him before. Kristen said he was Lord Durwyn, but the name meant nothing to me.”

Royce nodded. “He does not live near here, but I have known him for many years. Durwyn and his wife used to follow the royal court, until she died some seven or eight years ago. Durwyn retired to his estate after that, though he left his son at court in his stead. As I recall, the son, Edred, died in that last battle with the Danes, the one that also saw you wounded. Edred closely resembled his father. Mayhap ’twas he you remembered.”

“Nay, ’twas the older man, and only recently that I saw him. Royce, ’twas the day of the ambush. I saw Lord Durwyn cut down that
old bishop we escorted, just before I received the blow to my head.”

“You must be mistaken.”

“Nay. I dreamed of the ambush tonight. It brought the day back to me clearly, as well as Durwyn’s part in it. He was the only one there I
did
get a good look at that day. I even recall noting that he was dressed finer than a thief ought to be dressed.”

Royce ran an agitated hand through his dark hair. “God’s mercy, do you know what this suggests?”

“Aye. ’Twas not thieves who ambushed an unsuspecting group of travelers that day. ’Twas a planned attack against the
king’s
party, to put an end to our mission. What I need to know from you is, do you tell the king of this before or after I kill the man?”

Royce’s lips curled upward despite the seriousness of the subject. “I doubt me you will get the opportunity. Alfred will want to deal with this matter himself. But be assured that if you are right, Durwyn will hang.”

“I nearly died, Royce, and the pain I lived with for weeks will never be forgotten. I want the satisfaction of challenging the man responsible.”

“Aye, and so will your father want it, and your mother,
and
my wife. You, my friend, may well have to get in line do you handle it the Viking way. But you reside in Wessex and Alfred does have strict laws, so better to let him see to it. The crime
was
against him, after all.”

Selig only mumbled to that, not exactly an agreement, but Royce chose to take it as such, and so continued. “Now, I know Alfred’s direction. In fact, he had planned to visit here again on his way back to the royal estate at Chippenham, but I do not think this should wait until then. I will go now to send a messenger to him.”

Selig nodded. The urgency that had brought him here with such haste was relieved, if not put to rest. He was vexed, though, that the matter could have been done with if he had just made the connection with Lord Durwyn the day he saw him at Wyndhurst. But everything about that harrowing time was fading in his memory, except for the pain and Erika’s part in it, and he wished
that
would fade as well.

Royce stopped at the door to say, “You might as well stay here until this thing is settled. Alfred moves quickly sometimes, and sometimes not. ’Tis not likely, but he could conceivably arrive on the morrow, and he will want to see you immediately.”

“Fine.”

“Then go back to sleep. I intend to, after I send the messenger.”

Erika had sat patiently throughout their talk, even though she had not understood a word of it. She would have been annoyed if she had been excluded deliberately, but that was not the case, since Royce and Selig could communicate only in Celtic. Yet she decided then and there that if Selig was not going to learn Anglo-Saxon
to put an end to this difficulty, she would learn Celtic, and likely quicker than he, as new languages came easily to her.

“Do we leave now?” she asked, drawing his attention to her at last.