Chapter 2
Oh no.
Gytha’s stomach fell. The voice booming through the forest belonged to none other than Eadhild’s father. What she had feared had come to pass. Somehow Alberic had found out where his daughter had gone and he was coming for her, ready to unleash his fury.
Eadhild blanched, confirming her suspicions. “My father,” she said weakly.
A heartbeat later, the bushes opened to let him through. His face was purple with rage and his fists were clenched.
To her surprise, the tall Norseman she’d been talking to placed himself in front of her and Eadhild, his intent was obvious.
He meant to protect them, two strangers he had never met before, from whatever threat was coming their way.
Gytha was grateful for his bravery because in that moment she wasn’t sure Alberic would be able to control himself.
She’d heard he could be violent and on more than one occasion she had worried about what was happening in Eadhild’s home.
But it seemed that today her friend would have someone getting between her and her father.
Gytha looked at the Norseman with new eyes.
Now that she’d gotten past the frustration of dropping her shirt in the mud and pricking her finger with the needle, she saw that he was…
Breathtaking.
She should know, having had Norsemen in her house over the last five years.
But none could compare to this one. Though they’d all been tall and often muscular, they had been nowhere near as imposing.
Their hair had been blond, his was golden.
Their blue eyes had not flashed the way his did.
The other men had caused her interest to prick up, he made her blood heat, her head spin and her limbs go weak all at once.
He was, as she’d just thought, breathtaking.
Even Halfdan could not begin to compete.
And now he was taking her and Eadhild’s defense unbidden, despite their less than warm exchange earlier. That alone would have made her rethink her first impression. She had dismissed him as an irritant disrupting her peace but perhaps there was more to him than that—and physical beauty.
“What are you doing here?” Alberic had thankfully stopped in his tracks, but he was glaring at his daughter.
“I-I—” Eadhild looked about to faint.
“You thought yourself clever, pretending to go to the market. Did you really think I would not notice you never bring anything back when you go?”
Trust the man not to notice how long his daughter was away from home but to see that she had not spent any money. Though he was not poor by any means, he was as tight-fisted as they came.
“I asked Cuthbert to follow you,” Alberic carried on.
“When he saw you ride through the gate instead of visiting the stalls, he came back to inform me. It didn’t take me long to understand where you had gone.
” He narrowed his gaze. “I told you not to meddle with those filthy Norsemen, they’re nothing but—”
“I would weigh my words carefully if I were you,” their unexpected protector growled, taking another step forward. “Seeing as you are actually talking to one of those filthy Norsemen.”
Gytha could not blame him for this answer.
Alberic’s rudeness was not to be believed.
In the company of people like him she felt ashamed to be Saxon.
Unfortunately, he was not the only one to consider the Norse people little more than savages, even if the inhabitants of the villages dotted along the coast had been there for generations and had not created any problems. She was better placed than most to know the truth.
Since his election, her father had had to deal with many a criminal and none of them had been from the Norse community.
With the exception of a few Danish merchants and newly-arrived Normans, the vast majority of offenders had actually been local people.
Some Saxons, however, were too pig-headed to see reality and clung on to their prejudice. The man in front of his cowering daughter was one of them.
“Answer me. What are you doing here?”
Panic flashed in Eadhild’s eyes. She knew she would pay if she told the truth. She took Gytha’s arm and gave a squeeze, a sign of warning. She was urging her to go along with whatever she was about to say.
“I’m sorry. It’s not what you think. I only accompanied Gytha, who came to see her betrothed.”
Her betrothed! Gytha almost snorted out loud. The cheek of the woman. As if anyone would believe such an outrageous lie. The claim was so obviously meant to appease her father’s anger that it was laughable. Unless…
The laughter got stuck in her throat when she saw that all eyes were now on the Norseman by her side, who himself looked thunderstruck.
Oh. Lord.
Haakon stared in turn at the diminutive Saxon who’d just thrown him to the wolves, at the man glaring at him, at the green-eyed woman whose name he still didn’t know.
What had just happened? Had he heard correctly? Had he just been named as her betrothed?
One moment he’d been by the lake, throwing stones to ease his frustration, swearing to himself he would forget his unfortunate obsession with Saxon women and here he was, faced with not just one, but two of them, and the one who had accused him of being a dangerous criminal was now apparently betrothed to him.
He might have laughed if it weren’t so ludicrous.
“I don’t—” he started, only to be interrupted by the man, who addressed himself to the green-eyed Saxon.
“How dare you drag my daughter into your foul schemes? This is all your fault.”
Haakon didn’t miss the way the man’s daughter was holding her friend’s arm, urging her to hold her tongue and go along with the lie.
It was obvious she was petrified of her father, and it was hard to blame her.
He could tell the friend was struggling to play the role of the meek woman, however, and no wonder.
She was being called foul and scheming. Anyone in her place would defend herself.
“Mind you, I should not be surprised. With your father spending so much of his time with the filthy Norsemen, it was bound to—”
“I already told you to watch your tongue,” Haakon snarled. His altercation with the Saxon, coming so quickly after his encounter with Edita, had not put him in the best of moods. Now was not the time to play with his nerves or throw insults his way.
“I’ll do what I want, starting with taking my daughter away from this place.”
In a surprising display of speed, he lunged for the tiny woman, who squeaked in fright when he grabbed her. Ignoring her attempts at freeing herself, he turned toward the bushes once more.
“Hold on,” Haakon said, freeing the woman from her father’s hold. It cost him some effort not to snap the man’s arm in two while he was there. “You are not taking her anywhere while you’re in this mood.”
“Eadhild and I are going home, whether you want us to or not. You and your sweetheart can do what you want. What is it to you what happens to my daughter, anyway?” the man had the gall to ask. “It is none of your concern. Or isn’t one Saxon enough for you? Do you want to rut with both?”
By the gods, one more insult out of his mouth and Haakon might well forget all restraint and show him what he liked to do with unreasonable Saxon men.
“It is my concern. I will not have any woman harmed if I can prevent it. So I will go with you, make sure no harm comes to either woman, and that’s all there is to it.”
A tense silence filled the clearing. Three pairs of eyes, one black one filled with hatred, one brown one shiny with hope, one green one swirling with questions, were staring at him.
Haakon remained impassive. At last, the man turned around without a word and walked back to his horse.
His daughter followed, casting a pleading glance in his direction.
The green-eyed Saxon added her own silent entreaty.
Haakon had no choice but to go with them.
There, he encountered another problem. Having no mount, he would have to ride double with someone.
Walking alongside the group was not an option, as Eadhild’s father would no doubt take this opportunity to leave him behind.
The only choice was to climb on his supposed betrothed’s gelding with her.
Fortunately, the horse appeared strong enough to bear his weight and the Saxon was only a slip of a girl.
There was no time to hesitate. The man had already nudged his mount into a trot.
Before he had time to question the wisdom of his decision to help, Haakon found himself sitting on the bay gelding, cradling a sweet-smelling woman in his arms. No, not sweet-smelling exactly.
The scent wrapping around him was sharp, floral, and altogether intoxicating, which was way, way worse.
First, Edita, who had thrown herself at him and then this woman who had been thrown into his arms. Literally.
This was fast turning into a disastrous day.
Nobody said a word during the ride and Haakon concentrated on ignoring the sensations assaulting his body.
It didn’t take him long to see that it was a lost cause.
The woman’s elusive scent, the sway of her buttocks rubbing against his groin, the feel of her hair against his chest, everything conspired to send the blood pounding in his veins.
At this rate, they couldn’t reach the Saxon’s home soon enough. But eventually they did, and they dismounted in a narrow, dirt-filled street.
Gytha wasn’t sure what to do.