Epilogue
TWO MONTHS LATER
The basket was as heavy as a dead ox, or so it seemed. Merewen hoisted it onto the table with a grunt.
“You should have asked me to do that,” a deep voice chided from behind her.
Ever the protector, Wolf was at her side in an instant and forced her to sit onto a stool.
What could easily have annoyed her instead made her feel cherished.
In the last two months, she’d had time to get to know her husband better and understood that such thoughtfulness was an integral part of him.
She could choose to see it as high-handedness or accept it for what it was and enjoy it.
“Are you all right, little one? You don’t look too well.”
“I’m all right,” Merewen assured him, placing a hand on his chest.
“Are you sure? You have not been quite yourself in the last few days and are a lot paler than usual. No less beautiful for it, mind you, but I worry all the same. I don’t like to see you less than blooming.”
Her heart melted. “I’m fine, but there is something I—”
“Wolf!” A voice cried from the outside. “Wolf, you will want to hear this!”
He sighed. “Forgive me, sweet? Yet again?”
“Of course.” She knew he had other commitments and she did not begrudge him the time he spent helping others. In fact, she was proud of him.
Wolf brushed the side of Merewen’s cheek in a silent thank you and went to open the door. Thanks to her patience, he had stopped bemoaning the constant interruptions, accepting them as a part of the life he had built in his new country.
“What is it?” he asked Sigurd.
“A ship of Icelander merchants arrived in town. One of them, a man called Ketill Einarsson asked for you.”
Wolf raised an eyebrow at the name he had not heard in years. “Ketill? What did he want?”
“Oh, not much, just to tell you that your name had been finally cleared.”
For a moment, he stared at his friend, unable to comprehend what he was being told. Then he looked at Merewen, who had taken his hand in hers.
“Cleared?” Could it be true?
“Oh, Wolf, what wonderful news!” Merewen smiled at him, the pallor from her cheeks replaced by the glow he had missed.
“Your old neighbor Jón Solvasson was named as your wife’s murderer,” Sigurd explained.
“Apparently, after you left he took over your house and started to exploit your lands. According to his son, who came forward to speak in your favor once his father was dead, he was jealous of the river running through your property and had been after your land for years. He didn’t dare attack you outright but thought having you accused of murder would seal your fate just as well. ”
Wolf stared at Sigurd in disbelief. The man had strangled his wife in order to dispose of him! Such a pathetic reason to kill an innocent woman! He could have laughed if the man’s mad greed hadn’t cost Solveig her life.
He felt Merewen’s hand tighten around his. She would understand all too well what he felt, considering that her brother had been murdered so that Alaric could seize their property. It seemed that they would both have to bear the pain of a loved one being sacrificed for a piece of land.
“Thank you,” he told his friend. “I will go and meet with the Icelanders tomorrow.”
He would ask Ketill all he could about the affair but for now he needed time alone with Merewen. Despite the smile on her face, he had detected a gleam in her eyes he could not quite account for. He knew her too well to ignore that something was preying on her mind.
When she started to unpack the basket in a blatant ploy to avoid meeting his gaze, he was certain all was not as well as she would have him believe. Heart in his throat, he waited. Was she going to announce she was ill? Once again she had gone quite pale.
“Do you intend to return to Iceland now that you are free to go?” she asked, cradling an enormous cabbage against her.
He smiled, relieved. Now he knew what bothered her. She was worried he would ask her to go and live in a land where she would always be cold. His wife was really not made for winter weather, he knew. Prizing the cabbage from her fingers, he wrapped her into his arms, engulfing her in a bear hug.
“I am not going anywhere without my wife. And if she doesn’t want to go to Iceland, then I’m not going either. I’m not sure I want to live there, anyway,” he mused. “I have built a life here, and thanks to you I do feel part of a community again.”
“I am not saying I don’t want to go ever, and see the land of your birth, but… maybe not just yet.”
“I know. It is all rather sudden. Worry not, little one. I am not taking you anywhere until you are ready for it.”
As he kissed the top of Merewen’s head, he spotted a piece of parchment amidst the vegetables in her basket. “What’s that?
“Oh, I forgot. A man gave me this at the market for you.”
Wolf opened the parchment and let out such a roar that Merewen almost dropped the piece of salted pork she was unwrapping.
“Forgive me, my love,” Wolf apologized. “Only…” He threw the piece of parchment onto the table and took her back in his arms. “Alaric is dead,” he told her bluntly.
“Harald?” she asked after a pause.
“Yes. He finally avenged your brother, Ingrid, and all the other women the bastard hurt. He’s free, don’t worry, Kristján assures me that no one will be able to trace the deed back to him.”
“Well, then you’ll forgive my for rejoicing in a man’s death.”
“I will.” The man had murdered her brother, almost raped and killed her, assaulted countless women. His death could not be bemoaned and in truth he was relieved not to have killed the man himself. “And now. What did you want to tell me before we were interrupted?”
She lowered her eyes to the floor.
“You will have noticed how distracted and tired I’ve been these last few days…” she started hesitantly.
“I have.” His heart started to beat wildly.
She looked at him and gave a wan smile. “I believe I am carrying your child. I wanted to—”
He didn’t let her finish. In one fluid move Wolf lifted her off the floor and wrapped her legs around his waist in a position that had become as familiar to them as breathing.
“A child with you! Oh, little one, you have made my life complete,” he said in a voice full of wonder.
“I am not absolutely certain yet but I thought you ought to know about my doubts.”
“Thank you,” Wolf said, kissing her tenderly. It meant the world that she wanted to share everything with him. “Is that why you did not want to go to Iceland just yet?”
She nodded sheepishly. “I admit that the idea of being on a jolting boat for days on end is not one to appeal to me right now. I am rather queasy in the mornings.”
“Of course,” he replied, ready to burst with joy and desire. He was a free man, free to go back home, married to the woman he loved, and he was about to be a father. Life had never been better. “Can anything make this day more perfect?”
“I can think of one thing,” Merewen purred, grinding her hips, pressing his hard shaft between her legs, inviting him in.
“Oh, my love, I’m torn between marching you to the village right now to shout my joy and loving you until you can’t breathe,” he growled.
“The sun is setting. Marching though the village and announcing your news will have to wait until tomorrow,” she argued in a whisper, taking his earlobe into her mouth. “But I do need to be loved until I can’t breathe.”
“Well, then, your needs come first. I know how desperate for a man my wife can get.”
“Not ‘a man’,” Merewen smiled. “You. Always.”
Read on for a look at Book Two
in The Noble Norsemen series
Soothing the Beast