Chapter 5
The village woke up under a radiant blue sky. Gytha was relieved. Unlike Eadhild and Halfdan, she preferred not to have to attend the wedding ceremony under a downpour.
She and the other guests who had slept in the hut, four Norsewomen and two other Saxons, helped get the bride ready.
In honor of her new life, her friend had opted to wear a dress in the style favored by the Norse community.
It was beautiful, of a deep russet color that complemented the copper dancing in her hair, and adorned with brooches holding the bodice in place.
“These are beautiful!” Gytha remarked, fingering the gold flowers between which were suspended two strings of beads of every conceivable color.
“Yes, they were a present from Caedmon, one of Wolf’s friends. He’s the most talented goldsmith I’ve ever met.”
He was also Haakon’s father. She remembered him telling her as much during their intimate, heartfelt conversation the other day, the only conversation they’d had when they didn’t try to outdo one another.
The day he’d told her he was sorry for her loss, revealed that his parents were made for one another and made it sound as if he wanted the same in his life.
It had surprised her, as had his compassion and willingness to expose his inner thoughts to comfort her.
Up until that moment she had been convinced that his beautiful exterior masked a rather hollow interior, even if he had, admittedly, acted like a protector.
Now she wasn’t so sure.
And what did he think of her? She had gone out of her way to pretend she was as confident as he was, to provoke him, to hide her discomfort and make him believe she was not impressed by him or his assurance. Had she gone too much the other way? Did he think her a shrew? It was not impossible.
“Caedmon is very talented,” a red-haired woman called Freyja said. Gytha had been told the evening before that she was married to Eirik, the muscular Norseman. “Each of his creations are stunning.”
Yes. First and foremost, his son.
Gytha berated herself for that last observation.
Really, was Haakon all she could think about?
Apparently so. Last night, she had barely slept, imagining how he would look today, dressed in all his finery.
Would he wear a leather tunic for the special occasion?
No need, he already looked splendid in his everyday wear.
Would he have trimmed his beard? Not that he needed to, it was, as she had told him the day before, perfect the way it was. Would he have—
Stop!
With some effort, she brought her attention back to the present and the task of getting her friend ready.
This was what this day was about, not what she thought of Haakon or what he thought of her.
The only man she should be worried about was Halfdan and how he would love to see his beautiful bride appear.
Soon, Eadhild was ready and the women were making their way to the boulder where the rest of the village was waiting, chief among them, the groom.
The way his eyes caught fire at the sight of the woman he loved caused something in Gytha’s chest to constrict.
This was exactly the reaction she had hoped to see.
After leaving her friend, she took her place next to her father.
“Are you all right?” he whispered in her ear. She could only nod.
The ceremony began without further delay. Gytha watched everything with avid interest. This was very different from what she was used to, both fascinating and moving. That her dearest friend was the bride added to the emotion of the moment.
And yet…
No matter how much she tried to remain focused on the couple by the boulder, her gaze wandered over to the man standing by the ash tree to her right, He was just outside her field of vision when she looked at the couple, so by rights she shouldn’t even have seen him.
But she did more than see him. She watched him every chance she got.
How was it possible that he still stood out, when surrounded by so many attractive men?
As if he had heard her earlier musings, he had put on a leather tunic, which drew attention to his powerful physique, and his beard did appear to have been trimmed, which emphasized the masculine line of his jaw.
By her side, her father was doing his best not to betray his own emotion.
He would be thinking of the moment he had married her mother all those years ago.
Deciding he deserved her attention more than a Norseman who didn’t even know she was looking at him, Gytha took his hand in hers. He squeezed it gratefully.
After one last declaration, the ceremony was over and people started to make their way to the center of the village, where the banquet tables had been prepared.
“Will you excuse me a moment?” her father asked her. “I need a word with Wolf.”
“Of course.”
Just as he was leaving, a blonde woman smiled at her. Gytha automatically smiled back, before she recognized her. She was the one who had been in Haakon’s hut the other day. His lover. Damnation, she should have pretended she hadn’t seen her.
Well, too late. The woman was already heading toward her.
“Good day, you must be Gytha?”
Gytha nodded, wishing herself a hundred miles away. What could possibly have possessed the woman to come see her? “I’m Rowena. I’m sorry for not introducing myself the other day but I thought under the circumstances, you know, I had better not.”
“Yes.”
An introduction would indeed have been awkward. What could the woman have said? I’m Rowena. I’ve just come from Haakon’s bed. Are you next? Enjoy his attentions, I know I did.
“It was a lovely ceremony. Your friend and Halfdan are evidently made for one another. That is always good to see.”
“It is.”
Gytha stopped at this bland answer, having no idea what else to say. Evidently she was the only one ill at ease. Rowena didn’t seem to think this conversation was odd. Or perhaps she was so convinced the little Saxon posed no threat that she didn’t think of being jealous. Yes, perhaps.
The idea was hardly flattering.
Fortunately, at that moment, someone called for Rowena. Gytha recognized the handsome man waving from the crowd as one of the blacksmith’s sons from the night before.
“Ah, Thorfinn,” the woman said, a radiant smile blooming on her face.
That smile made it clear the two of them were intimate.
Was the woman determined to bed all the good-looking men in the village?
If she was, she would be busy in the months to come.
The place was crawling with them. “I was wondering where he’d gone.
If you’ll excuse me? Perhaps we’ll talk later? ”
“Of course.”
Not if I can help it.
Gytha stared when Rowena went to Thorfinn and gave him a fiery kiss. Then she couldn’t help throw a glance around to see if Haakon had seen it. Would he be jealous? Or had he found himself a new lover as well? And what was it to her if he had? He could do what he wanted.
“Come,” Freyja called from somewhere behind her. “I’ve saved you a place next to me and Eirik.”
It was obvious from the expression on her face that the food being served was markedly different from what Gytha was used to. Haakon realized when the thought crossed his mind that, to be able to reach that conclusion, he had to have observed her for a while. Which he had.
At the start of the banquet, he had made sure to place himself where he had a clear view of her. Since then he had barely detached his gaze from her, watching as she licked her fingers, wiped her mouth, laughed and drank. Freyja and Eirik were on one side of her and his uncle Bjorn on the other.
It reminded him of a banquet years ago, when his sister, Rowena, had gotten married to Thorfinn. That night, inevitably, he had been trying to seduce a Saxon, Cwenthryth, who had paid him no heed and was now married to Steinar.
“Are you going to force the woman to have another bite to eat? Do your best to convince her she wants to open her mouth for you? Promise that she will like it?” a voice purred from behind, shattering through his thoughts. “Isn’t that your preferred method for wooing Saxons?”
“What are you talking about?”
Steinar, who had leaned in to talk in his ear, arched a brow, the picture of disbelief, and nodded at Gytha, who had just stood up. Everyone was getting ready to go dancing, which was presumably why his friend had thought it a good time to come see him.
“Do you think I’m blind? You’ve been staring at Elstan’s daughter all night. I’m sure you know how many slices of ham she ate.”
Two and a half. Not that he had been counting. He’d only seen, because…well, because he’d been watching her. Hell, had he been that obvious? Apparently.
“Are you ever going to let me forget what I said to Cwenthryth that night?” he grumbled, standing up in turn and making for the table where the mead was.
“Unlikely.” Steinar, damn his eyes, had followed him. “Considering it was something like Arne would have said, and unworthy of you.”
“I told you a hundred times already, I had drunk more than I should.” Could he not just drop it? In the end, nothing untoward had happened. “I thought I was being clever, but I was just young and stupid.”
“I will agree to that. So, with Gytha I would try a more subtle approach if I were you. Because if I hear you’ve made her uncomfortable in any way, I will—”
“I’m not going to ask her to suck my cock, all right!” he exploded.
At first, Haakon didn’t understand why Steinar had stilled and was looking at him with such a stricken expression. He understood when he turned around.
Gytha was just behind him, staring at him with huge eyes.
Fuck.
Had she heard the last sentence? Of course she would have, considering that he had all but shouted it, in his exasperation.
But had she heard who they were talking about?
By the time he’d recovered enough to clear his throat, Steinar, the coward, had disappeared, leaving him to deal with this on his own.
“Gytha. That was… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t apologize. You can do what you want with whoever you want.”
“Yes, but as you heard, I don’t, in fact, do that to anyone, or rather have it done to me by anyone, at least, simply for the asking.”
She cocked her head, and he could have sworn she wanted to laugh. Good. Amusement was better than horror.
“You are aware that your sentence barely makes sense?
Yes, very aware, and no wonder, he had rarely been more embarrassed. “Anyway, did you want to tell me something?” Dare he hope that she’d come to talk to him?
“No, I was just looking for…Eirik. He asked me if I would dance with him earlier, while we ate.”
She turned around before he could tell her he knew she was lying.
Everyone knew that Eirik very rarely danced.
The only woman he would consider doing it with was his new wife, Freyja.
The chances he would have asked a guest he didn’t know were slim to non-existent.
She had simply been embarrassed and wanted to flee.
Which meant that she had come to speak to him, and then thought the better of it when he had heard him shout to Steinar that he had no intention of asking her to suck his cock.
He stilled. Had she known she was who they had been talking about?
It didn’t matter. Either way it was a disaster.
If she’d assumed he was talking about another woman it would paint him as a callous lecher.
And if she’d heard her name, then she would have heard him snarl that he would never ask her to pleasure him.
As men never refused such intimate acts, there would be only one conclusion to draw from this.
That he was not interested in her at all, even for a night of passion.
Damn.