Chapter Eighteen
Test of Dedication
Dreams did come true after all. The priest served a modest meal; smoked venison, pickled herring, cabbage, bread, and day-old honey cakes. Ambrosial in Noelle’s humble opinion.
Randvior satisfied the priest’s demand for a traditional bridal toast. “To Noelle—you have increased my joy and banished sorrow from my soul. I beseech Frigga to bless and give us many sons and daughters who will serve the gods.”
“Aye!” The holy man gulped down his portion of wine.
After an hour, Randvior announced their quick departure.
“Folkvar, we humbly thank you for your generosity. Odin’s blessings on you, old friend—remember, my door is always open to you and your kinsmen.”
“And many blessings on your house,” he returned. “But somehow, I think those blessings have already begun.” He winked at Noelle.
Once outside, Noelle’s body constricted with anticipation, a premonition of feelings of the night to come. Wound as tightly as a chord, if Randvior so much as blew on the nape of her neck, she’d collapse in a chain of orgasms.
After riding east for what seemed a lifetime, they arrived at a lovely cabin nestled between a stream and cluster of trees.
Light flooded outside from the only visible window.
Randvior dismounted, left her astride, and walked to the door.
Aud and Katherine popped out and hugged him, then smiled in her direction.
Noelle stared, shocked and amazed by yet another unexpected surprise.
And her husband appeared completely amused.
He whispered to Katherine and the maid disappeared inside.
Randvior collected Noelle and they stood by the cabin together. Katherine reappeared with a bowl of breadcrumbs she spread along the front of the cabin.
“Is she feeding the birds?” Noelle thought it a queer thing to do right now.
Randvior’s tittering left her feeling a bit dumb. “She’s leaving food for the fairies, so they won’t curse our bridal bed.”
She laughed at his boyish beliefs, never realizing how seriously he took it. “You actually believe in the wee folk?”
“I’ll not deny their existence after the unexplainable things I’ve seen over the years. Let’s just say I prefer not to tempt anything lurking in the shadows. Ask Brandon, he’ll swear on the Blessed Virgin sprites that inhabit these hills and forests.”
Before she could entirely digest the notion of her warrior husband believing in such outlandish things, he scooped her off her feet.
Aud cheered him on as Randvior carried her over the threshold.
A fire roared in the stone hearth near the doorway and the rest of the room was glowing with the soft light from candles and a metal brazier.
The dominate feature in the room was a large bed with lush, velvety coverlets.
She blushed at the oversized bed. Only Randvior would demand such a grand mattress to accommodate his athletics between the sheets.
But other things about the room delighted her, too.
An ornamented table with two equally impressive chairs, complete with fine linens and platters of food, was placed near the fireplace.
The roasted mutton and boiled cabbage made her mouth water.
Her eyes feasted on an assortment of delectable pastries and dried fruits.
“How did they know?” she asked, baffled by her husband’s elaborate preparations.
“I stationed scouts along the roadway days before I found you. I planned our wedding very carefully, was not willing to take any more chances. I told you this already, my love.”
Regardless, she marveled at his attention for detail.
She further explored the room; furs covered the earthen floor and feather pillows were neatly arranged near the hearth.
Thick blankets overlaid a bearskin. Did he expect her to make love on the floor?
A bouquet of fresh roses and violets were arranged in a crystal vase on a bed stand.
Blooms this late in the season—where did they come from? Noelle eyed Aud curiously.
He shrugged. “It’s a secret.” He put his finger to his lips.
Why not? Katherine fed the faeries and now Aud managed to produce roses in the middle of winter. Perhaps magic did exist in Norway.
She wagged a finger at Aud. “If I cannot be privy to the secret, I will at least enjoy their beauty.” She walked to the table and picked up the bouquet. The soft aroma pleased her.
She turned and watched as Randvior spoke quietly with his servants, clasping his captain’s arm with gratitude. “Goodbye,” he said.
Aud and Katherine walked outside, and her new husband shut and locked the door behind them.
The moment of truth had arrived, husband and wife alone for the first time.
Noelle knew the world had altered the moment they exchanged rings.
And now Randvior faced her with a flicker of dark desire in his eyes, which was soon replaced by a generous smile.
“Come,” he motioned toward the table. “Our true bridal feast waits.”
Noelle put the bouquet down and joined him. Randvior offered her a chair and she sat. Her lips quivered with anticipation, her insides a tangled mass of bridal nerves.
Acting the gentleman, Randvior bowed and seated himself opposite her.
He spooned small portions of food onto her plate and scooped more generous portions for himself.
He sampled the meat. Neither of their thoughts was really on the meal, and he looked down at his plate, back at her, and then down again.
Then he sprang from his chair and came at her.
Noelle dropped her napkin and sighed triumphantly as he claimed her mouth.
This is what she wanted—not food—not anything else, but him.
She objected when Randvior broke their kiss and rushed across the room. He rummaged through a trunk and returned with two items in his hands—a gilded box and velvet bag. Noelle took a long sip of wine to avoid the intensity of his lingering stare. Kneeling beside her, he offered the box first.
“In absence of your kinsmen, I offer this as my mundr—my bride price.”
Overwhelmed by the elegance of the package, she opened it slowly. Filled with gold bullion, English coins! Confused, she raised questioning eyes.
“My share of the takings from your father’s house. Wealth intended for your own posterity.” He presented the velvet bag next.
Never had she expected such a generous gift, enough gold to make her independently wealthy.
With quivering hands, she untied the black ribbon at the mouth of the bag.
A strand of perfectly cut rubies and diamonds, fixed between cordiform gold beads—a string long enough to dip between her breasts.
The clasp was too intricate for her nervous fingers to work right now.
Randvior smiled and did it for her. She gasped, mystified as she fingered the large stones.
“Morgen-gifu—my morning gift to my most cherished bride. It is given much too late,” he sighed ruefully. “But I ask you to receive it with all the respect a grateful groom might show his bride on the morning after they share the bridal bed.”
She nodded. The extravagant gifts he presented were more than her father would have ever offered as dowry.
What am I to do?
“I have naught to give, no wedding gift and no dowry.” She lowered her eyes.
He lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “There is nothing conventional about this union. Even if we were blessed with the luxury of time, I would have waived your dowry to prove how much I love you.”
“I beg forgiveness,” she sniffled. “For the dreadful way I misjudged your intentions.”
“Aye, min lille dukke, you reacted out of fear and require no forgiveness. I should have handled you more gently.” He lifted her from the chair. “Disrobe for me, I want to see you.”
She undressed seductively, too slowly, determined to punish and reward him at the same time. The only gift she could offer was her body. And Randvior Sigurdsson deserved it. The moment her clothing dropped, he crashed into her as lethal as a tidal wave.
The heat from her body sent a flurry of wild thoughts whipping through his mind. Impure and animalistic. It nearly strangled every ounce of civility left inside him.
Delicate tinder, hungry flame.
The memory of finding her with Sveinn drove him crazy.
He wanted to be inside her now, share the joys of her body, and blot that bastard out of her memory forever.
Randvior unlaced his breeches and blanketed her from behind.
He’d fantasized about this position on many occasions and she wiggled playfully before him—inviting him to do as he pleased.
She squirmed and moaned, welcoming him. His hand glided between her legs and found the sensitive spot that sent her body into uncontrollable tantrums. Her thighs were slick with excitement, and Randvior steadied her, while staring longingly at the heart-shaped cheeks that begged for his shaft to plunge between them. He pierced her like an arrow.
She cried out as he entered and he froze midstride.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
He grinned lasciviously and continued. It felt too damn good to stop. Randvior locked his hands around her stomach and lifted her off the bed. “Stand up for me.”
He gently walked her to the wall. Noelle seemed to know what he wanted and rested her palms against the boards. She arched to accommodate him. He gulped for air—her tiny ass bobbed every time he moved. He closed his eyes and allowed her to control the rhythm.
Beautiful seductress.
“Randvior …” she purred. “… It feels so good.”
“Du kommer til ? drepe meg, jente.”
Noelle sucked the life force out of him and it took every ounce of mental stamina he possessed not to explode inside her like an unpracticed boy.
He withdrew and spun her around. Then draped her across the mattress on her back as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down. Within seconds, they finished together.