The insistent pounding on the door woke them long before either would have risen on their own. In the cocoon of their bed, Rurik had found the best sleep of his life with Annis cuddled next to him. He had woken several times, but only long enough to pull her against him and hurtle headlong into sleep once more. He meant to do that again, especially when she curled her fingers against his neck and let out a soft breath, but the pounding would not stop.
He opened his eyes to faint morning light coming in through the small cracks in the shutters. Covering her ear, he held her face cradled to his shoulder as he called, ‘What is it?’
The reply was muffled, but the name Jarl Eirik set him on alert. Sliding out from under her, he grabbed the discarded tunic and slung it on, heedless of the fact that he was half-hard with wanting her again. By the gods, he must have passed the entire night in that state. Opening the door a crack, he found Alder scowling at him.
‘You had better have a damned good reason for waking us.’
‘Jarl Eirik has been sighted. He will arrive soon,’ said Alder.
‘How soon?’ Despite the fact that seeing to Jarl Eirik was important, Rurik wanted to see to his wife more. He had anticipated at least a morning in bed with her. He was starting to resent the lack of time they had been allowed alone together.
‘Within two hours.’
He had not yet met the warriors at any length, but he had no problem coming up with orders for them. ‘Gather the warriors. We will not meet them with weapons drawn, but they need to be ready.’
Alder nodded and turned to leave, but Rurik’s voice stayed him. ‘Send food. The lady and I will take our meal in our chamber before leaving.’
‘As you wish, my lord.’ The peculiar tone Alder gave the words was unmistakable. Rurik knew that it would be an uphill battle to gain the respect of the men who had so recently taken him captive, but it was a fight he was prepared to win.
Closing the door, he turned to find his wife staring at him from the bed, the coverlet pulled up loosely to her chest. She was dishevelled and sleepy and infinitely attractive. She looked well tumbled and a certain part of his body noticed.
‘What did he say?’ she asked, her eyes wide with concern.
He relayed the brief conversation all the while stalking towards her and calculating how fast he could have her again before the world would intervene. If she was as responsive as she had been last night, it would be easily possible.
‘I ordered our meal to be brought here, so we needn’t rush to the hall...yet.’ As he sat on the bed, he brushed the hair back from her shoulder and replaced it with a kiss.
‘Good,’ she said, disappointing him by not acknowledging his kiss. ‘We must eat fast so that we can discuss strategy with Cedric and Wilfrid.’
When she would have risen to dress, he grabbed her hand and tugged her down to his lap. She let out a surprised gasp and braced herself on his shoulders.
‘Must we rush?’ he asked.
‘Rurik.’ She was smiling, but the concern had not left her eyes.
He placed a kiss on her neck, working his way up to her lips as he spoke. ‘Last night was not enough time with you. I need you again.’
‘But it is daytime.’
‘My need for you does not know time, nor does it care.’
She giggled at that and took his face between her hands. He loved that things were easy between them again. ‘But Jarl Eirik is coming. We must prepare ourselves to face him. I cannot do this with you while having a lump in my stomach.’
‘Why do you have a lump in your stomach? Are you afraid of him?’
Shaking her head, she said, ‘I cannot explain it. I am not afraid of him. I know that he would not hurt me, but I confess to being afraid of what he might do with you.’ Her eyes dipped and he gently tipped her chin upwards so that she would meet his gaze. ‘What might happen to us.’
Understanding dawned and he relented. He would not have her again this morning, but he would have her before the night was over. ‘We are married now. No man can come between us, not even the Jarl himself. You are mine and I am yours.’ A sense of breathlessness followed that statement. No one had ever belonged to him before. It pleased him greatly that she was the one who did.
One of her hands fell to rest above his heartbeat. He stilled at the implication of the innocent touch. ‘Last night was not what I thought it would be.’ Her voice was soft and when her gaze met his again, it held. ‘I believe that we might be able to have what you want. A true marriage. I am only afraid that we won’t get the chance.’
Tenderness made his chest feel tight. Closing his arms around her, he held her against him and spoke against her temple. ‘You are my wife, Annis. Jarl Eirik will not change that.’
She took a hesitant breath before pulling back enough to meet his gaze. ‘What did you say last night...during...?’ Her glance drifted to the bed behind him.
He couldn’t stop the smile that curved his lips as he closed the slight distance and kissed her. She was always so certain of herself, but in this they were both in new territory. Keeping his voice low, he explained, ‘That I take you as my wife, making us one in body and spirit. I pledged my protection to you even at the cost of my life. I meant every word of it. You are mine and I am yours and nothing that happens today will change that.’
She stared back at him, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. A knock on the door signalled that their breakfast had arrived, effectively ending the moment.
‘Tonight, then,’ he said.
Regaining herself, Annis nodded and climbed off his lap.
Nearly two hours later, Annis stood next to her husband in the hall as they waited for Jarl Eirik to walk through the open doors. The thunder of a small army of hooves had rumbled through their peaceful home only moments ago as he and his men had filed through the gates, filling their small courtyard with unease and tension. While everyone knew that he had not arrived with death and destruction at his heels, a small army of Danes was never an easy thing to accept.
As strange as she might have found it days ago, she was glad to have Rurik at her side. His quiet strength was a source of reassurance that she needed more than she had known. While shouldering the bulk of responsibility for Glannoventa over the years had been a burden she had gladly borne, she was coming to believe that sharing it with him might not be as dreadful as she had feared. Their marriage was still very new, but so far he seemed willing to shoulder it with her rather than take it over completely.
The doors of their home opened, the heavy scrape of the wood echoing down the corridor. Rurik’s strong hand found the small of her back in silent assurance. From the corner of her eye, she saw his jaw work as he clenched his teeth. Whether he was worried about the confrontation to come or simply steadying himself for it, she could not say. There was much about him that she did not know, but she found more and more that she was looking forward to finding it all out.
Her heart stopped when a man came through the doorway. Jarl Eirik walked like someone determined to get to his destination, his long powerful legs eating up the distance. A handful of men followed him into the hall, but she knew that there were at least a score more waiting in the courtyard, and possibly triple that waiting in the lands and forest surrounding Mulcasterhas. She held her shoulders rigid as he came closer. His tunic was weathered and lightly soiled from days in the saddle, and his blond hair was left to fall around his shoulders, looking more unkempt than she had ever seen him. Though she conceded that she had never seen him arrive with such haste.
With the eyes of a woman, and not the girl she had still been in many ways the last time she had seen the Jarl, she could admit that he was quite attractive. At only a few years over thirty winters, he was still virile and commanding, exuding confidence and authority. His eyes gave her a quick glance, but they settled on Rurik as if identifying a threat and sizing up an enemy. For his part, Rurik had donned the weapons he had arrived with, not that he would need them. Her stomach roiled, but she did not allow it to hinder her. She would not be cowed by the Jarl.
‘Good day, Uncle.’ She made certain that her voice was strong and even. ‘I hope your trip was uneventful.’
He seemed reluctant to take his eyes from Rurik, but he finally looked at her. ‘What is the meaning of this, Lady Annis? I have been told that you are wed to a Norseman. I presume this to be him?’
She had hoped that bit of information would be left for her to reveal. It had probably been too much to hope for. ‘Uncle, I would like to present Rurik from the Kingdom of Maerr, my husband. We were wed last night.’
‘Maerr?’ His brows drew together. ‘By the gods, you were meant to marry a Dane!’
Her heart pounded against her ribcage and she glanced at the handful of men fanned out behind him. They were all younger than the Jarl, warriors in their prime. She had no doubt that the man he intended her to wed was among them, but she did not care. ‘I always maintained that I would only wed the man of my choosing. And I have chosen Rurik.’
‘That was not your choice to make, unfortunately.’ He shook his head. ‘It is not valid. He was not approved by me or your King.’
‘It is valid.’ Rurik spoke for the first time, impressing her with the volume and vehemence of his tone. ‘Vows were exchanged and it was consummated. There are witnesses if you care to confirm it for yourself.’ His hand briefly left her back to indicate Cedric whom she had forgotten was standing a few paces behind them. Several warriors waited around the periphery of the chamber, but it had been decided that to keep things calm it would be best not to meet the Jarl with an army at their back.
‘You allowed this to happen?’ the Jarl asked Cedric, his eyes accusing.
‘There was no King to consider when they were wed. However, even if there had been, the wedding will stand,’ Cedric answered as he walked the few steps necessary to stand on her other side.
‘That does not answer my question.’
Cedric took in a weary breath. ‘You know that Wilfrid would rather die than see her wed to a Dane. He has pledged you his loyalty, but he refuses to give you his daughter. This cannot come as such a shock to you.’
Jarl Eirik’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. ‘Then why is he not here to tell me that himself?’
‘Wilfrid is ill,’ offered Annis.
A vein in the Jarl’s temple throbbed as he stared from her to Cedric, as if wondering how much of the truth they were telling him. ‘Take me to him.’
Annis had known that it would come to this, but the knowing did not make the actual facing of it any easier. He would see how ill Wilfrid truly was and demand an explanation for why he had not been told. It could not be helped, however, so she gave a nod and led the way to Wilfrid’s chamber with Rurik at her side and Cedric falling in line behind them.
There was no need to knock on the door, because Wilfrid had been prepared for the meeting. He sat at his table, staring at the door. Though his colour was still not very good and he sagged a bit, obviously tired, Irwin had dressed him in his finery. Pain squeezed her heart as she noticed the tunic looked far too big for him. How much longer would he be with them?
‘Lord Wilfrid, it is good to see you,’ Jarl Eirik said as they all filed into the chamber.
‘Welcome, Jarl Eirik.’
Annis watched the Jarl’s face as he registered Wilfrid’s irregular speech. His brows lowered and he glanced at her before addressing Wilfrid. ‘How are you feeling?’ He walked closer, as if studying Wilfrid to note all the signs of his illness.
‘Good, good,’ Wilfrid said, though clearly he was not at his best. ‘Annis and Rurik...’ He gestured with his good arm, drawing Jarl Eirik’s attention to the fact that his other arm was all but immobile.
Her heart broke that they had to go through this needless display. ‘We shared our good news,’ she said, drawing the Jarl’s attention back to her as she went to stand beside Wilfrid. ‘The Jarl was overjoyed.’ She gave both men a wry smile.
Wilfrid gave a bark of laughter, his shoulders shaking with the effort. When he finished, he was still smiling, eyes crinkling in the way that had always made her think he had probably been quite gallant as a young man. An unexpected lump rose in her throat, forcing her to swallow it down before a shimmer of tears coated her eyes.
‘No Danes here,’ he said and the words were as clear as she had ever heard him speak.
Suddenly she felt a bit lighter, understanding that he had needed this moment whether it had left her uncomfortable or not. It was his last chance to prove to the Jarl that he would not bend to the wishes of the Danes. Although Wilfrid had come to a sort of truce with them, and an uneasy friendship with Jarl Eirik, he delighted in being his own man. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder, hoping that it conveyed the affection she felt for him.
‘So you made clear on my last visit,’ the Jarl said, his tone dry. ‘I never thought you would allow a Norse into your home after Sigurd.’
Wilfrid sobered instantly and his gaze unfocused slightly, his head turning as if searching for someone among those in the room.
Afraid that he was going to fall into a panic again at the mention of Sigurd when he had been doing so well, Annis said, ‘And as you can see, Lord Wilfrid needs his rest. Let us return to the hall. We have refreshments before you rest from your trip.’
Jarl Eirik’s keen gaze never left Wilfrid as he sized up the situation. She had no doubt that she was not fooling the Jarl in regards to his condition. ‘It was good to see you, Lord Wilfrid. We will leave you to your rest.’ The Jarl left them there to return to the hall and she let out a breath that he had not insulted Wilfrid on his way out.
They all followed and as soon as the doors to his chamber had closed behind them, Jarl Eirik said, ‘How long has he been out of his senses?’ Anger was evident in his voice.
Before she could reply, Rurik intervened. ‘He is not out of his senses.’
Jarl Eirik glanced at him in warning, but did not utter another word until they were in the hall. Annis gestured to the table and that they should sit, but the Jarl shook his head, still obviously upset.
Withholding a sigh, she said, ‘Since the last time you visited, he’s had roughly one to two brain attacks a year. The last one was the worst and resulted in what you see. He cannot easily move one side of his body.’
‘And yet no one informed me of what had happened to him, so I could appoint someone to manage in his stead?’
Annis forced a calmness to her voice that she did not feel. When would she stop being forced to defend herself for running Glannoventa confidently? ‘As you can see, Glannoventa has been well managed. Wilfrid has been competent enough to offer opinions and guidance, but in the times when his illness proved him incapable, I was glad to take over.’
‘You? You took over?’ He glanced to Cedric as if for reassurance and, at the man’s nod, he looked back at her.
‘I took over,’ she said. ‘After your meal, I will show you the records we have kept. Glannoventa is profitable and has not struggled since Wilfrid’s decline. You’ve received your taxes as promised.’
He still seemed unconvinced. Rurik took her hand in his. ‘You will see that you were very lucky to have Lady Annis here. She has managed with a level head and an even hand.’
Her heart swelled in her chest at the fine words.
‘And you.’ The Jarl addressed Rurik. ‘We have heard of your father’s death in Maerr. Is that why you are here?’
‘Initially, yes. I came because I thought Wilfrid had a hand in my father’s murder.’
‘But you do not believe that now?’
‘I believe that Wilfrid hired assassins in a failed attempt to right a wrong.’
Guilt made her stomach roil again and she tightened her fingers around his hand. He spared her a fond glance, but it only made the guilt expand, nearly forcing all the air from her lungs. She had to tell him the truth. He should know that his wife was as much a part of that failed attempt as Wilfrid. He should know that the woman he had taken to bed was beyond redemption.
Cedric caught her gaze, his eyes rather severe as he gave her a barely imperceptible shake of his head. Not while Jarl Eirik was here, he seemed to say. Glannoventa needed Rurik. She knew that if he cried off, then the Jarl might very well find some way to end their marriage and appoint a Dane to take over.
Taking Rurik’s hand with both of hers, she stared down at the fingers that had given her so much pleasure, that had continued to touch her with nothing but gentleness. He had claimed he wanted a true marriage, one built on trust and respect. She vowed to give him that as soon as the Jarl left.