Chapter Nine #2
“That’s what you saw last night, wasn’t it?” Her voice was the barest whisper, the pain breaking down her courage. “You saw the woman.”
“Yes. I saw her,” Ragnar admitted.
“What were they doing together?” The idea of her husband being with someone else, even as a captive, filled her with a sudden resentment.
“Talking.” But there was more hidden within the words he hadn’t said.
“I don’t believe you.” Styr had lived with the woman over the past week. And if he’d brought her all this way, there had to be something between them. Elena had no doubt of it, especially after her husband had pursued the woman just now.
A hot rage filled up within her, seething. “He doesn’t want the baby,” she said to Ragnar, feeling the edges of her courage crack apart. “Or me.”
He came up behind her, wrapping her in his arms. “There’s more to this than we know. Give him a chance to tell you what happened.”
Though his words were reasonable, the edge in his voice held an anger that matched her own. Elena stepped out of his arms. “I have to know the truth about them. Let me go, Ragnar.”
He did, raising his hands as he stepped back. “I’ll be here, if you’ve need of me.”
She nodded, steeling herself as she strode toward the shore. In the distance, she saw a fishing boat approaching with a few men rowing closer. Elena raised a hand to block the sunlight as she stared down at her husband and the woman.
It should have made her uncomfortable to spy on them, but anger made it impossible to turn away. He’d betrayed her and she needed to know the truth of his feelings for this woman.
Styr had come up behind the Irishwoman, resting his hands on her shoulders. The gentleness of the gesture and his caring posture were a dull blade twisted into her heart. Elena could see their profiles and while the woman’s face held misery, Styr’s expression held longing.
He was in love with this woman. She could see it in his bearing, in the way he turned her to face him and embraced her hard. They were holding one another as if no one else existed.
She sagged to her knees, feeling like she was intruding upon a private moment. But Styr was her husband, not this woman’s. They had given promises to one another and had been together for years.
Years should have mattered more than days.
Yet she’d never seen her husband look at her in this way. He was tormented inside, and bitterness took root in Elena’s stomach.
Why couldn’t he love her like that? Was she not woman enough for him? Had her past failings as a wife made him so eager to turn to another?
The woman was crying, and Elena watched while her husband wiped away her tears and embraced her hard again.
And when she walked to the water’s edge, waiting for the fishing boat to approach, Elena realized that the woman wasn’t going to stay. She was sailing away, while Styr had chosen to remain with her.
But never before had she seen such desolation on her husband’s face.
Ragnar hadn’t wanted to see them together. Not after all this. He’d walked a long distance, needing the space away from everyone. He walked nearly a mile away from the shelter before he realized that Styr had followed him. They stood near a small copse of trees beside a large clearing.
“Abandoning her again, are you?” Ragnar stopped walking and turned to face the man who had once been his friend.
“I was a captive,” Styr countered. “I was only freed a few days ago.”
“By her,” Ragnar said. “The woman you brought with you.”
Styr gave no answer, but his expression tensed. “I wanted to thank you for looking after Elena.”
“While you were betraying her with that Irish whore?”
The words provoked the response he’d wanted. Styr’s temper erupted and his tone was rigid. “Don’t call her that.”
“You’re a bastard who doesn’t deserve Elena.” Ragnar gripped Styr’s tunic with both hands, slamming the man up against a tree. After seeing her weep over him, after the way she’d fought for their lives, she deserved far more than Styr.
“She’s my wife. I know my obligations.” Styr wrenched himself free, sending Ragnar off balance. They circled one another, each looking for an opening to throw a punch.
“She deserves better than you,” Ragnar countered. “You took a mistress and only stayed because of the baby. If Elena weren’t pregnant, you wouldn’t be here now.”
When he didn’t deny it, fury boiled within him. Ragnar threw himself at Styr, knocking the man to the ground. “Did you think of her even once while she was fighting to live? When she threw herself off a ship to escape slavery and nearly drowned? Or when she was nearly killed yesterday by Norsemen?”
He knocked Styr’s head against the ground, driven by the need to avenge Elena. She’d wept over this man, trying to find out what she’d done wrong in their marriage.
Styr’s fist caught him across the jaw, and Ragnar rolled away before the man could strike again.
“I’m staying with her, damn you.” Styr’s breathing was heavy, and he got to his feet, wiping at a bloody lip. “I never lay with Caragh.”
“But you’re in love with her.” It was obvious, from the way Ragnar had seen them together last night. Styr had carried her across the water, holding her as if he’d never wanted to let go.
Styr’s silence was the answer he’d dreaded. “I won’t divorce Elena. Not now, not when she’s wanted this baby so much.”
Ragnar let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Don’t hurt her, Styr. You don’t know what she’s been through these past few days. If you turn from her now—”
“I won’t.” Styr crossed his arms and leveled a glare at him. “Whatever was between Caragh and me is over. I’m taking Elena back to Dubh Linn, and we’ll settle there, among our people.” A heaviness crossed over his expression and he added, “We’ll be all right.”
Ragnar eyed the man, seeing a reflection of himself in the man’s restless demeanor. “Don’t make her unhappy,” he warned.
Or I’ll steal her away from you.
At nightfall, Elena walked alongside the shoreline with Styr’s hand in hers. When he’d returned from talking with Ragnar, both men had bruises and cuts from fighting. She didn’t know what they’d said to one another, but neither did she ask. Her suspicions centered on the young woman who had left.
Although Styr had let her go, Elena wanted to know how strong his feelings were. She wanted so much to believe that they were acquaintances and that her suspicions were unfounded. But she feared what she’d observed between them.
“I’ve seen the woman before,” she began, trying to keep her voice calm as if his answer didn’t matter.
“Caragh ó Brannon,” he admitted. “Brendan was her younger brother.”
Elena remembered the adolescent who had led the raid, taking her and the others captive.
His move had been foolhardy and dangerous, but she guessed why he’d done it.
Whether or not it was his intention, by seizing her he’d effectively drawn the Norsemen away from the settlement and protected his sister.
But what Elena didn’t understand was what had happened to her husband after the ship had sailed. “She took you as her captive, didn’t she?”
Styr nodded. To her surprise, he showed no anger at being the prisoner of a woman. A thousand questions surged within her, to know what had happened. Whether he’d been hurt...or why he had been taken.
Instead, she caught a flash of guilt upon his face.
No. She didn’t want to think that he’d found someone else to love. Not in this short a time. But her mind couldn’t conjure up a good reason why he would embrace the woman.
He stayed for you, her brain reminded her. He let her go.
Was it enough? She didn’t doubt that he’d stayed because of the baby. But if there hadn’t been a child, would he have divorced her? The icy hollowness spread within her, the fear growing.
“Do you...have feelings for her?” She was trying not to sound accusatory, but Styr wouldn’t look at her. That, in itself, told her a great deal.
“Why would you ask me something like that? I’ve only known her since we arrived here.”
Again, he was behaving as if it meant nothing. “I have eyes, Styr. I saw you with her.”
I saw you holding her as if you didn’t want to let go, her heart raged.
“She left with her brothers. I told her farewell.” He shrugged it off as if it didn’t matter.
Her anger began to take hold, for she knew he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. How could he act as if nothing had happened? “You were embracing her.”
He spun and for the first time, his dark eyes met hers. “Nothing happened between us.”
The flash of his temper only ignited her frustration. “Then why are you so angry?” she shot back. She wasn’t a blind fool who couldn’t see what was before her. “If she were nothing to you, you wouldn’t be acting this way.”
It took an effort, but she pulled back her rage and forced herself to remain calm. Inside, she was hurting from the unanswered questions and the invisible wounds to her faith in him. She was finding it difficult to trust anything he said.
He let out a breath and changed the subject. “I heard from Onund that you jumped from the ship.” She recognized the tactic, understanding that he didn’t want to fight about this. And neither did she.
Elena nodded. “We were attacked, and there was only one chance to escape. Ragnar helped me reach the shore.” He’d saved her from drowning, even though he’d been wounded himself. His courage had kept her from breaking apart, giving her strength to endure the past few days.
“Both of you could have died,” Styr said.
It was true and she fought back the tears, just remembering it. Not only because of what might have happened to Ragnar and her...but also to her baby.
“I wasn’t about to let myself be sold into slavery,” she told him. “This might be the only baby I’ll ever have.”
Styr’s expression fell, and he let out a sigh. He said nothing for a time, but his attention shifted to the boat disappearing in the mist.
There was nothing worse than knowing that someone no longer loved you. If he ever had.
Finally, he spoke. “Do you know how long I searched for you? I thought both of you had died.”
The worry in his voice granted her a measure of comfort and she came to stand behind him. Her heart was heavy as she spoke. “I didn’t think they would let you live, either. But I’m glad you returned.”
She recognized that he was trying to make peace between them, putting aside the past. If she kept pushing him for answers, it would only damage the fragile reunion between them. Slowly, she walked to stand at his side, trying to lay her apprehensions to rest.
The fragile truce made it hard to converse, and Styr finally led her to walk along the beach while she followed.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“Several days. The raiders wounded Ragnar, but he kept me safe.” Her cheeks flushed at the memory of his arms around her only this morning.
The knowledge unraveled part of her anger, for she was not blameless herself. Although she hadn’t betrayed Styr with her feelings, she had kissed Ragnar and craved his touch in a sinful way.
It unsettled her, for she was trying to lay all the accusations at his feet when she had made mistakes of her own. The past few days had brought her closer to Ragnar. She’d relied upon him to survive, and he’d supported her through the darker days.
“We found food and built this shelter,” she finished.
For a moment, Elena looked at the water, wondering if he could see the blush of her own guilt. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Styr’s arm coming toward her and without thinking, she took a step backward. “What are you—?”
Oh. He’d been trying to embrace her in welcome. She couldn’t believe she’d misread his actions that badly. “You caught me unawares.” She leaned in, putting her arms around him in a light embrace. But he didn’t hold her tight, the way a husband missing his wife would.
To emphasize her welcome, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Again, he didn’t return the gesture, which made her feel uncertain about this.
Styr pulled back and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“The same,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t have known about the baby, if it weren’t for the fact that I haven’t bled in two moons.
I thought it was only seasickness.” She reached down to touch her stomach, wondering when she would begin to feel movement.
“It seems so strange to think of a child growing inside me at last.”
His face had gone distant again, staring out at the water, and she began to talk faster. “I think the child will be born in early spring next year, if I’ve counted right.”
He gave no answer, and she suspected he wasn’t listening to her. His mind was focused upon the horizon and the woman who’d left. “We’re going to be all right, aren’t we, Styr?” Her voice was barely a whisper, all of her hopes bound up in that sentence.
But when he gave no answer at all, she feared the worst.