Surrender to the Viking. Joanna Fulford
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Название: Surrender to the Viking
Автор: Joanna Fulford
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9781472043924
isbn:
Collecting up her discarded clothing she dressed once more and, when she was decent again, unbarred the door. She had no wish to remain. The hov held too many disturbing associations and the sooner she was out of the place the better. Instead she returned to the women’s bower. As she’d hoped, the occupants were still asleep enabling her to avoid their curious looks and knowing smiles. Quickly and quietly she changed back into the green gown, returning the blue one to the chest. As she did so her gaze went to the sword at the bottom, but this morning she had no desire to practise. Nor had she any desire to remain in the steading. She didn’t want to speak to anyone nor was she of a mind to be the butt of other people’s humour. The marriage had happened but she wasn’t going to pretend to like it. Until she had firm control over her anger she was better out of the way.
Taking the path through the lower meadows she headed for the hill above the farm. She would find fresh air and solitude up there and if there was any company it would only be a few sheep. That was fine by her. The less she had to see of humankind the better.
* * *
On leaving the barn at dawn Finn took a detour to the promontory but the place was deserted. Either Lara was in no mood to practise sword craft or else she had no wish to be found there. He had a pretty shrewd idea which of those suppositions was correct and was sorry for it. Their previous training session had been fun. Unfortunately, recent events were not calculated to win her confidence or soften her mood. Just then he had no idea how that was to be achieved. Lara was unlike any woman he’d ever met. It was a pity she hadn’t come to the promontory this morning because there were things he needed to impart, not least about their forthcoming departure. Since she evidently had no intention of seeking him out he’d have to go to her.
* * *
When he reached the hov he found it empty. That left the bower as the most likely line of retreat. From his point of view, she couldn’t have made a more awkward choice because he couldn’t impose his presence there without creating uproar. He’d have to send a female servant to fetch her and that in turn would arouse all manner of speculation that he could well have done without. No doubt Lara was fully aware of that and probably enjoying the thought of his chagrin. He gritted his teeth. How was it that she always managed to make his life more difficult at every turn?
He was rounding the end of the hov when he saw her, but, far from hiding in the bower, she was heading away from the steading along a track that led towards the hill behind. For a second, it occurred to him to wonder if she was running away, but she wasn’t moving like one in furtive haste; nor was she dressed for travel or carrying anything with her. Whatever her intention it wasn’t flight. The little witch was good at keeping him guessing. But this way at least they could have a private conversation.
He set off after her, his longer strides closing the distance between them. For a while she didn’t notice that she was being followed but as he gained on her some sixth sense must have given warning of his presence and she glanced over her shoulder. He saw a flicker of surprise and then annoyance in her face. Somewhat to his surprise she stopped and waited for him to catch up. They surveyed each other in silence. He saw that she had changed back into the green gown and that the jewellery was missing too. In fact all trace of bridal finery was gone. She looked pale but otherwise composed, her expression impassive now.
‘Where are you off to, Lara?’
‘For a walk.’
‘Alone?’
‘As you see.’
‘I looked for you on the promontory earlier.’
‘Did you?’
‘There are things we need to discuss.’
‘Such as?’
He sighed. Clearly she had no wish to talk to him at all although in the light of recent events he couldn’t entirely blame her. All the same this could not be avoided. She had just become part of the arrangements.
‘Tomorrow I leave for Ravndal.’
He had her attention now. ‘But that is several days’ sailing from here.’
‘That’s right.’
He didn’t miss the glimmer of hope that flickered into her face. The thought of his departure was pleasing to her. If she was anticipating his protracted absence she was doomed to disappointment.
‘My continued presence here is unwise,’ he went on. ‘Steingrim won’t be far behind and when I meet him it will be on ground of my choosing.’
She could see the point. ‘What about the other ships, though?’
‘Alrik’s will accompany us. The second will meet us a little later.’
‘I see.’
‘We’ll be leaving early.’
She nodded, controlling a sudden surge of jubilation. He was leaving tomorrow. He would be gone for days; weeks with any luck. Perhaps the gods were redressing the balance a little.
‘Was there anything else, my lord?’
‘No, nothing else—for the moment.’
‘Then I beg you will excuse me.’ She would have continued on up the path but his voice stayed her.
‘Lara.’
She paused, surveying him quizzically. ‘My lord?’
‘My name is Finn. It would please me if you were to use it.’
‘As you wish.’
‘You know, it seems to me that life would be easier if we were not at odds.’
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