Chapter 17
Aife woke up with her back nestled against Torsten’s chest, bathing in his warmth. To know this was the way they would wake up every morning for the rest of their lives was enough to make her smile, even though she had yet to open her eyes.
“Good morning,” he rumbled, tightening his hold over her. How had he known she was awake?
“Mm. It certainly is a good morning, for today we are going to get married,” she answered, anticipation flooding through her.
“Yes.” There was a wealth of joy, possessiveness, and impatience in this one word.
Opening her eyes at last, she turned to face him. He looked mighty fine this morning, with his gorgeous hair loose on her pillow. Unable to resist, before going to bed, she had unbraided it and used her new comb on him.
“Why are you smiling?” she asked, when his lips stretched into a lazy grin.
“When I lay on my pallet these last few days, I swore I would never again in my life linger in bed longer than necessary. And yet here I am, thinking that I would like nothing more than to remain here all day, snuggling in your warmth.”
She laughed. Indeed she could well believe that after what he’d endured, the bed was the last place he wanted to be in, but circumstances had changed.
“No doubt you made this promise because you were thinking you would be lying down alone,” she purred, placing a hand on his naked chest. “But you will never be alone in bed again.”
“No. I’ll be with my wife.”
Deep inside her.
The thought tore through Aife and a blaze of lust scorched her insides.
Though she couldn’t wait to become his wife, it took all her inner strength to leave the bed and get dressed.
She’d told Torsten she would marry him before she bedded him, and she would hold on to that promise however much it cost her.
He needed to know she loved and accepted him as he was, and trusted him to be the husband she knew he would be.
For that, she would have to resist until after they were married to make him hers.
Mercifully, it wouldn’t be long, less than a day.
Tonight they would discover how much pleasure men and women could give one another.
Outside, the wind had mercifully stopped blowing.
Aife could hear that the preparations were already underway.
Everything would be perfect, even at such short notice, since the villagers had spent the last few days getting ready for the end-of-harvest celebrations.
Lost to her anguish while she waited for news of Torsten, she had failed to remember the day was approaching.
But he was right, what better day to celebrate their union than the day they had both been born?
Their parents had agreed it was a good omen, and not being the most organized person, Aife was grateful she didn’t have to worry about anything.
All she had to do was get dressed in her best dress and be at the big boulder when the sun reached its zenith.
This much she could certainly do.
“I’ll go and get ready in my hut,” Torsten told her, placing a swift kiss on her lips.
They had, of a common accord, decided to ignore tradition and spend the night in each other’s arms even if, as promised, they had not done more than kiss and nestle in each other’s warmth.
She had also taken the opportunity to tell him about the meeting with the Normans in town the other day.
At first she had been unsure whether it was the right thing to do, but Torsten deserved to know that their attackers had been punished and Hugues was dead.
There would be no secret in their marriage.
“How could my father place you in danger thus?” Torsten growled, running his hands all over her body as if to ascertain that she wasn’t hurt. “This could have ended up badly.”
“Perhaps. But it didn’t. Nothing happened to me.
” Seeing that he was already upset, she kept to herself Girard and Enguerrand’s vile words.
“Wolf agreed it was the best way, even if he didn’t like it.
I knew I could trust him to protect me. And thanks to our stratagem, the men have been punished, and Ranulf stopped. That is what matters.”
Wolf had confirmed to her only the day before that the Saxon who thought he could harass the Norse people would not be able to hurt anyone ever again. When she’d asked what he meant, he’d explained what had transpired the day he and the reeve had gone to talk to Ranulf.
“As could have been predicted, he feigned ignorance when we asked him questions about his clan. Far from being cowed, he drew a dagger out and started to threaten the reeve. I had to intervene for he might well have killed the man otherwise. I tried to stop him without killing him, for we still had questions to ask, but it proved impossible. He would never have ceased until he’d killed me, and I had no intention of indulging him.
And so he’s dead,” he’d concluded, his face grim.
“With him gone, hopefully his clan of pathetic weaklings will see that there is nothing to be gained from persecuting us.”
Aife had only nodded. The man who hated Norsemen and wanted them dead would not create havoc again. It was hard to feel anything other than relief at the news, and Torsten had not appeared distraught either.
“I’ll see you later, by the boulder,” she called out before he could walk out the door.
“You definitely will. There will be no escaping me, lovely.”
Lovely. Her heart wobbled even more than usual. “No need to worry. I don’t want to escape. Why would I? I’m right where I want to be.”
After one last kiss, Torsten left.
In the silent hut, Aife smiled as she fastened the brooches holding her dress in place.
How many times had she gone to weddings, seen radiant brides and proud grooms stare at one another with awe, and worried she would never know that joy?
Dozens. Well, today was her turn. The moment seemed so significant that she’d asked to be allowed to get ready on her own.
Usually friends and family helped the bride-to-be, but since Hedda was not here anyway, Aife had wanted this time to absorb the enormity of what was happening to her.
She was marrying the love of her life, a man who, up until recently, had only been a friend, a man who had showed her that she, too, could be desired and cherished. Now she wanted nothing more than to love and cherish him in turn.
Once she was dressed, Aife brushed her hair with her new comb, relishing the feel of the fine teeth gliding through the strands like spread fingers weaving through the rapid waters of a stream.
Torsten’s creation was a lot smoother than her old wooden comb had been, untangling the knots without once pulling at her scalp.
Edita was welcome to the one she had stolen, this one carved of antler was a thousand times better and infinitely more precious.
Finally, she placed on her head the crown of flowers she had fashioned the evening before with her friend Cwenthryth.
When she opened the door, Torsten was there, waiting for her.
He had put on a tunic of dark blue wool she’d never seen before, and he looked utterly mouthwatering.
This time, instead of wobbling, her heart sped its rhythm up to an impossible drumbeat.
To think that this man would be married to her before the day was over…
“Aife. You look ravishing,” he breathed, wrenching a smile out of her.
“I was about to tell you the same thing.” Ravishing, and soon to be ravished.
“Come.”
Taking her hand in his, he led her back into the hut, after checking they hadn’t been seen by some old person set in their ways who would no doubt protest at this breach of tradition. It was better to avoid any problem.
“What are you doing?” she asked, once they were hidden from view. Did he mean to steal one last scandalous kiss? If so, she would be more than amenable.
“I know I shouldn’t be here, but there is one thing I wanted to give you before our wedding, in private.”
Delight and curiosity caused Aife to clasp her hands together. “What is it?”
“Close your eyes.”
She did as she was told and Torsten took her hand in his.
A moment later she felt him slide a ring on her middle finger.
When he asked her to open her eyes and she glanced at the hand he was still holding, she dissolved into tears.
On the ring, encased in gold, was the amber-color stone he had found for her that day on the beach.
The day he had saved her life.
The day she had realized she was in love with him.
She’d dropped it because of the wretched seagull and thought it lost forever. It had pained her at the time, but in the aftermath of what had happened by the cliff she had quite forgotten about it. And now Torsten was restoring it to her in a nest of precious metal. It was too good to be true.
“But… What… How did you—”
He shrugged. “After you dropped the stone, I looked for it instead of looking for cockles. I thought you were doing a better job than me anyway, so there would be little loss.” Yes, especially that in the end they had never even had the chance to eat the cockles.
His time had been better spent trying to retrieve the little rock she had meant to keep as a souvenir.
It was irreplaceable, whereas the sea was full of the shells.
“I’d seen how upset you were when you lost it, so I thought it was worth trying to retrieve it.
I had only just put it in my purse when you called me to come to the cliff.
I asked Caedmon to put it on a ring as soon as we got back to the village. ”
The day they had come back here? This meant that, even incapacitated and fearing for his recovery, he had thought of the surprise he wanted to give her. She was more touched than she could say. Touched and more than a little surprised.