Chapter 3
“We’re going to have to do something about the hole in the roof. ’Tis past time.”
Eahlswith looked at the corner of the room with concern.
Moments after she had walked through the door, bringing bread and cheese for Osbert’s lunch, another plank had come crashing down.
They could not ignore it any longer, his house was falling to pieces.
It had been bad enough in the summer but now that winter was here, it meant that wind, rain and snow, when it eventually came, would get in.
Not only that, but one day a plank could fall on his head and injure, if not kill him.
Of course, the old man could have come to live with her.
It was the obvious solution, but he’d refused her offer every time she’d made it, arguing that a young woman needed her freedom.
No matter how many times she’d assured him she rarely received any guests, he stubbornly refused.
She had the impression he wanted to leave her the possibility to welcome a man in her life if she ever decided it was time to put the past behind and settle.
Like the coward she was, she had not insisted.
That discussion was not one she was ready to have, least of all with him.
“I know we need to see to this roof,” he told her with a sigh. “But as you know…”
Yes, she did know.
Finding someone ready to take on such a momentous task for no monetary reward had proven impossible. The people willing to help were either too busy or incompetent to do what needed to be done.
“I suppose I could try to—”
“You are not to go up on the roof in this icy weather, or do anything else equally dangerous, young lady. I will not have your injury on my conscience.”
“I thank you for the faith you put in my ability,” she mumbled, though in truth she was relieved he’d not agreed to her suggestion.
She didn’t know the first thing about carpentry and she dreaded the idea of being up so high.
Only the other day, her friend Leofric had fallen off his ladder and broken his leg.
If he, who knew what he was doing, could lose his footing, what would happen to her?
“It’s not a question of faith, but I—”
A knock cut Osbert mid-sentence. Glad of the interruption, Eahlswith went to open the door—and froze.
A man was standing in front of her. And not just any man.
A tall, forbidding Norseman. More than ever, she felt sure he had to be the human equivalent of a Norse god.
Her insides quivered. What was Sven doing here, in front of Osbert’s house?
Then she noticed a bag was slung over his shoulder.
Planks of wood were sticking out of it and the way it sagged indicated that it was loaded with heavy tools.
Was he really— Had he really come to—
She had fully expected to see him again, but she had imagined he would come to her door, demanding explanations for her sudden departure, not that he would visit her old friend.
Before she could say anything he pointed at himself and then to the hole in the roof.
Then he said something in Norse. She stared in fascination as guttural, incomprehensible words flowed from his mouth.
Dear Lord, but he was a completely different man to the one she had bedded back in the summer, or even seen in the village three days ago.
Gone were the gleam in his eye, the suggestive grin, the relaxed attitude.
Today he was a man made of stone, and he would not be deterred.
Everything within her quivered.
“Who is that?” Osbert asked, coming to stand next to her. “I thought I heard— Heavens!” he exclaimed, taking in the formidable sight. He might not see as well as she could but he would not have failed to notice their visitor’s unusual size and bulk. “A Norseman!”
Sven nodded and uttered another comment in Norse. He evidently meant to pretend he could not speak or even understand their language, though why that might be, Eahlswith couldn’t fathom. Her mind was too addled by his sudden appearance to allow her to think straight.
“What on earth is this, Eahlswith? Do you know this man?”
“I do. And I think he’s come to repair the roof,” she said, torn between gratitude and irritation.
“Has he? But how does he even know about it?”
That was a good question. She’d been wondering the same thing. “You know my friend, Cwenthryth, is now married to a Norseman? Well, this man is her husband’s brother. He will have heard me tell her about it on my last visit to her village.”
Except he hadn’t been anywhere near when she and Cwenthryth had discussed their friends in town.
No, but Steinar had been there, cooking…
Suddenly she saw what had happened. The day she’d left, Sven had come to speak to her, see how her foot was.
Upon finding her gone, he’d flown into a rage and decided to pursue her.
His pride would not allow him to let her get away with fleeing him a second time.
When Steinar had come back from town, he’d made him tell all he knew about her life.
Cwenthryth’s husband, who’d overheard the conversation about their friends, would have mentioned the roof in need of repair.
The determined, devious man had guessed that if he simply showed at her door she would avoid him again.
So he had found a way to be with her that she couldn’t refuse.
This was not about what she wanted but about what Osbert needed.
She would not send away the only person who had volunteered to do what needed doing.
“But how could he have understood what you were saying about my roof or indeed anything else if he doesn’t speak our language?” Osbert insisted. Though he thought Sven could not understand them, he still whispered the question.
“I mean that his brother, Steinar, heard us talk. He was in the hut and he does speak our language. He must have told him later.”
Unsurprisingly, this explanation didn’t quite satisfy him. “But why? What is it to either of them?”
Eahlswith did her best not to let her irritation show. “I know not. Perhaps this man is a carpenter and Steinar asked him to come, as a favor to his wife’s friend. He’s madly in love with her and would do anything to please her.”
“Mm. Yes.” This seemed to placate Osbert. He was so generous this was the sort of thing he would do himself so he didn’t see anything odd in Steinar sending his brother to help a stranger.” “He looks very fierce, though. Are you sure we can trust him?”
“Yes.” This, at least, made no doubt.
As if he’d decided he’d given her enough time to reassure the old man, Sven made to walk past them. Eahlswith had no choice but to let him through.
She and Osbert watched him put his bag on the table and extract from it a dozen tools and planks of various sizes. Heavens, how heavy must the bag have been? Then he pointed to the roof and pretended to climb up.
“Do you know anyone who could lend us a ladder?” she asked Osbert, understanding what he was trying to ask. He’d come with tools and even wood, but, understandably, he had not brought a ladder with him. “One long enough to reach the roof? And possibly a few extra pieces of wood?”
“I know Godric, at the end of the street, has a ladder.”
“I’ll go get it now.”
As reluctant as his neighbors had been to repair the hole themselves, they would not begrudge the old man the loan of a ladder.
Now that she had someone ready to do what had to be done, she would make sure to give Sven what he needed.
Finally the hole that had been the bane of her life for months would be repaired.
Filled with a new sense of purpose, Eahlswith set off in the direction of Godric’s house.
As she’d expected, the man was all too willing to help, now that someone else was doing the actual job.
She thanked him and a moment later, was back with the ladder and a bag full of planks.
They were smaller and lighter than the ones Sven had brought but she hoped they would serve.
Opening the door, she gestured at Sven to come outside so she could show him what she’d found.
He nodded his approval when he saw the wood and took the ladder from her to position it against the wall.
“My thanks, Alva,” he purred into her ear, leaning close enough for her to feel the brush of his lips against her hair.
Lord.
Her knees almost buckled out from under her, but she managed to take a hasty step back.
A mistake. Feeling her against him had set her nerves aflutter but seeing him was not much better.
During her visit to Godric he had attached the tools to the belt hanging low on his hips.
As a result, he looked almost like a warrior armed for battle.
“Eahlswith, is the ladder all right?” Osbert called from inside the house.
“Yes, it will do,” she answered, her voice surprisingly steady. “Please be careful,” she added under her breath, addressing herself to Sven. The last thing she wanted was for him to break his leg or worse. “In this weather, it—”
“I’ll be careful.” His blue eyes flashed, as if he were pleased to see her worry herself over him.
She hurried back into the house, certain she would betray her inner turmoil if she stayed any longer in his presence.
“Well, this was certainly unexpected, but highly welcome.” Osbert rubbed his hands in a familiar gesture of delight. “You will have to thank your friend’s husband for me next time you see him.”
“Yes.”
They fell silent when Sven re-entered the house to grab the two biggest planks he’d brought.
Giving them a curt nod, he exited again.
A moment later there was a hammering noise above their heads.
Eahlswith looked up just as Sven’s face appeared through the hole.
He saw her watching him and, without missing a beat, he winked at her.