Chapter 15
Ulf could not talk. With his hands wrapped around the bulge of Ylva’s stomach, he could only think, and feel.
He was going to be a father.
This woman he had never bedded, a virgin, was carrying his child, conceived in a wild night of pleasure. It was a mind-blowing, life-altering thought. And yet he could feel the proof that it was happening in the palm of his hands.
As luck would have it, his mother had gone only the other day to see a woman in the next village who had started to suspect she might be with child.
“She didn’t understand how it was possible, as her lover had a…
preference, shall we say, for reaching his pleasure in a place where his seed could never have taken root.
” Ulf had guessed from the way she’d blushed where that place might be.
And indeed, no baby had ever been conceived that way.
“Fortunately, when we went to see him, he was delighted at the news and did not ask any questions or think to doubt her word. They are going to get married before the month is out.”
She had gone on to explain that the seed was what created a child, not the member itself.
And, unlike what most people thought, it was not only released at the end of intercourse, when the man reached his pleasure.
A small quantity sometimes seeped out while he was thrusting inside his lover.
Helga had told her when she had started her training as a midwife that a woman could get with child even when the man withdrew to ensure he did not spill inside her, which was precisely why this method was never guaranteed to work.
Well. If a woman could get with child even when her lover did not plant his seed, so to speak, inside her womb, then it followed that anything was possible.
He and Ylva had not slept together, but they had shared pleasure.
And his seed had definitely entered her.
His fingers had been coated with it when he’d used them to coax pleasure out of her.
How had he not thought that by doing so, he was taking almost as much risk as if he’d actually come inside her?
Because he’d been consumed by need, that was why. Because he’d been oblivious to everything that was not the woman moaning under his kisses, allowing him to indulge in the most decadent moment of his life.
He tightened his hold around Ylva, feeling more ashamed than he could express. He had put her at risk and then allowed her to disappear without a trace.
She’d told him earlier that the father of the babe wouldn’t believe her claim.
At the time he’d thought it a silly excuse.
Now he understood her thinking. Indeed, many men in his situation would doubt her word at the very least, if not send her away with a curse for lying to them.
Idiot that he was, he had scoffed, saying that it was convenient for a man to pretend not to believe the woman’s claim.
Well, he would look like a fool now if he refused to listen to her, would he not?
Besides, he did want to listen to her, wanted to hear she was going to give him a child, wanted to know how she had been. Earlier that morning, during their conversation, he had found himself thinking that if she came to him claiming to be carrying his child, he would be the happiest man on earth.
And, well, he was.
“Mine,” he said once he had found his voice again, giving the hard stomach a possessive squeeze.
“Yes, yours,” she breathed. “But—”
“No but. I know what happened. I was there that night. I know that, as unlikely as it is, I am the baby’s father.”
She seemed to soften into him, as if the tension, the worry she had carried on her shoulders for months was finally melting, as if he’d said what she needed to hear.
“I’m still untouched. There has been no one else. I swear.”
“I know, I trust you.”
He would not be less honorable than the other villager’s lover, who had accepted his woman’s word without question, he would not be less reliable than his own father, who had done what needed to be done by his mother.
He would not be a fool and let Ylva go a second time.
The last few months he had missed her terribly.
He was not going to allow her to slip away now that she was about to give him a child.
She swiveled around so fast she was almost unbalanced.
He steadied her with two hands at her waist. Her eyes were filled with tears and her cheeks were wet.
He hated to see her distress, distress he was responsible for.
She would have spent a stressful few weeks agonizing about what to do, worrying about the future and the raising of this child on her own.
He owed Judith a debt of gratitude for having been brave enough to risk her friend’s wrath to come find him, despite what she thought of him.
Slowly, he wiped at Ylva’s cheeks. “It’s all right. I’m here now.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Don’t thank me. I’m only doing what every man of honor would do.”
“You know it’s not that simple.”
“Nothing has been simple between us, from the moment you threw yourself into my arms, dagger in hand.” He gave a one-sided smile. Indeed.
“I swear I’m going to kill Judith,” Ylva murmured.
He gave a low laugh. “Don’t. She doesn’t deserve to die for this, even if she did go behind your back. And between you and me, I would rather remain the only person you ever tried to kill. Makes me feel rather special.”
She stilled then started to talk, her words rushed, her sentences incomplete. “How can you jest about something like that? How can you talk so calmly and tell me… I thought you would— And this after what I did to you… I can’t— Oh, God, how are you so bloody perfect?”
Before he could even open his mouth, she burst out in great racking sobs.
There was no other choice but to sweep her into his arms and bring her to the pallet.
Having been raised by Cwenthryth, he knew about the seemingly erratic behavior of women with child.
They were prone to such emotional outbursts.
It was not to be marveled at that after the day she’d had, Ylva would break apart. But now it was over.
He was here.
“Hush,” he said, lying down next to her and drawing her into his arms. This was as much for his benefit as for hers. After the shock he’d had, he needed to hold her, he needed to make sure she was well. “I’m not perfect. It’s only that I believe you.”
“It is so much more than what many men would do.”
“Yes.” Unfortunately, she was right. But as he’d already established, he was not like those bastards.
The two of them remained locked together for a long moment, not talking, their baby nestled between their two bodies.
Their baby… A baby was growing inside this woman he had been destined to meet.
It seemed incredible, and Ulf could not wait to meet it.
If his calculations were correct—and it was not hard to calculate, seeing as there was only one night the conception could have occurred—it would be just after the end of summer, in four months from now.
Less than a year after he and Ylva had met.
His own birth had happened during his father’s twentieth year. His baby would be born in his twentieth year as well. The idea pleased him, even if it was rather dizzying. Would it be a boy or a girl? He didn’t care.
“I feel sleepy,” Ylva mumbled, speaking with her lips against his chest. It was just like it had been the night after their visit to the beach. It made him smile, because it felt as if order was restored at last.
“I know. So rest a moment. I’m not going anywhere.”