Chapter 23 Hanna
HANNA
Hanna woke to the sound of steel on stone.
The room was bright with morning sun and mid-stretch, she startled, realising she had slept late and had missed making breakfast or tending to James.
She swung her feet to the floor and padded to the window as she pulled on her robe, glancing outside to look for the source of the noise that had woken her.
It came again, but this time, accompanied by other sounds. The wet thunk of a blade, the scrape of a knife.
Hanna took herself downstairs to the kitchen, rushing to say good morning to James and offering Maria a buss on the cheek as the woman rolled out pastry with a practised hand.
“What is going on?” Hanna mused aloud as she peered out the kitchen door.
Maria came up behind her, lifting her chin in the direction of the woodshed as she brushed pastry crumbs from hr fingers. “Alaric brought home a deer yesterday evening. He is readying it for the cold store.”
Yesterday.
Heat flooded her cheeks at the memory of Alaric’s hands on her body, his mouth everywhere, the way he'd made her sob his name in the darkness.
Mine, he'd growled against her skin. All mine. Every inch of you belongs to me.
And she'd surrendered to it, surrendered to him completely.
Hanna cleared her throat and walked towards the shed, not wanting Maria to see her cheeks blushing hot.
Closer now, she watched as Alaric worked on the deer carcass, his movements precise and economical. He'd strung it up in the woodshed, and was methodically separating hide from meat with expert efficiency.
There was something almost graceful about the movement of his lean, strong form. The flex of muscle in his forearms where his shirt sleeves where rolled up, the scowling concentration on his face, the absolute confidence in his handling of the blade.
This was a man who knew his craft, who'd spent a lifetime honing these skills.
Deadly. Dangerous.
Hers now.
"Your man knows his work," Maria said, appearing beside Hanna with cups of tea on a tray.
Hanna jumped slightly, tightening the belt on her robe self conciously. "I didn't hear you come up."
"You were too busy watching," said Maria, her eyes twinkling. "Not that I blame you. He's a fine figure of a man, your husband."
"Maria!" scolded Hanna, but she couldn’t help smiling.
"And he provides well. That deer will keep us in meat for weeks. The hide will make good leather. Your father will pay handsomely for it, or Alaric will sell it elsewhere." Maria placed the tray on a tree stump and sipped her tea thoughtfully. "You've done well, child. Better than you know."
"I didn't do anything. He chose me."
"And you chose him back. That takes courage." Maria squeezed her hand. "I'm proud of you."
Hanna's eyes stung with sudden tears, but Maria tutted and turned to leave.
"Hush now, go on and take your man some tea. He's been at it since dawn."
Hanna shyly carried a steaming mug into the woodshed. Alaric looked up at her approach, and the smile that broke across his face made her heart skip.
"Good morning, wife."
"Good morning, husband." Hanna offered the tea. "You should have woken me. I would have helped. I did not know you had brought home a deer."
Alaric shrugged, “His lordship allowed me to take one from the hunt, I found him a fine trophy stag that pleased him greatly.
"And, you needed rest,” he added, his eyes heated as he scanned her body in the light robe. "After last night."
"Alaric, I-”
"I will not say I am sorry," He set down his knife and accepted the tea, his fingers brushing hers deliberately. "Are you?"
"No." murmured Hanna, doing her best to meet his eyes with a steady gaze.
And she wasn't. Last night had been... terrifying, and wonderful.
"Good." Alaric took a long sip, his eyes never leaving her face. "Because I plan to do it again, tonight. And every night after."
"Insatiable man," Hanna murmured, shocked at his brazen words.
"For you? Always." He set down the mug and drew her close, careful of the blood on his hands. "You've awoken a hunger in me, Hanna. Now that I've had you properly, I can't get enough."
She shivered at the possessive rumble in his voice. "We should... You should finish your work."
"In a minute." Alaric nuzzled her neck, breathing deeply. "Let me hold you first."
They stood like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms while the autumn morning breeze blew around them.
"Alaric?" Hanna said eventually.
"Mmm?"
"Thank you. For all of this. For taking care of us."
He pulled back to look at her, his expression serious. "This is what I'm for, Hanna. Providing for you, protecting you, making sure you never want for anything. That's my purpose now. My vow."
"I know." She touched his face, feeling the rasp of his morning beard against her palm. "And I'll do my best to take care of you, too. That is my vow."
Something fierce and vulnerable flashed in his eyes. Then he was kissing her again, deep and claiming, until her knees went weak and she had to cling to his shoulders for balance.
"Go inside before I take you right here," he growled against her mouth.
"Alaric!" But she was laughing as she fled back to the cottage, his low chuckle following her.
At the kitchen door, she turned and watched him return to his work, a smile still on her lips.
When was the last time she had laughed for anything except little James?
Hanna had been desperate and alone, convinced she'd never trust again.
Now she was married, and somehow, impossibly, she was realised she was happy.