Chapter Seven
The torches threw shifting shadows on the walls of Halfr’s bedchamber, which he’d decreed must be used for the happy couple’s wedding night.
The women, including Astrid, had all gathered there to ensure that Svanna was given a proper send-off.
Her hair had been brushed until it hung about her shoulders like a golden cloud, and she was now dressed in her finest under-gown, rather than her much more serviceable everyday one.
Fighting against a rising tide of nausea, Svanna tried to remain still and allow the women to do their gossipy best, but the nerves she’d experienced during the ceremony had returned with a vengeance.
Her insistence on a quick marriage was ill-thought-out, she knew that now.
But it was too late for all the fears, doubts and worries which crowded her mind.
She wondered why she had chosen the riskier path. Had her past dreams of the youth she’d fashioned in her mind influenced her? When would she stop being like a sighing maiden? She firmed her mouth. A maiden, that was what she was—just.
‘Look at you,’ Astrid said, leaning heavily on a servant’s arm but upright and able to slowly shuffle about the room, even if she had not felt capable of attending the actual ceremony. ‘One could not ask for a prettier bride.’
‘Lord Randolfr is very lucky. Beauty combined with brains,’ a woman added.
‘That kiss they shared at the altar,’ another added, touching her forefinger to her mouth before raising it. ‘Such passion. Obviously, love at first sight. No wonder neither was willing to wait.’
All the women sighed and giggled. Several made lewd comments about what Svanna would be looking forward to and taking bets on the state of the sheets in the morning.
Svanna concentrated on the rushes and struggled not to explain that Lord Randolfr’s heart was buried with his first wife and he therefore welcomed their arrangement of a platonic marriage.
A little voice in her head protested that his kiss at the wedding demonstrated that he was not averse to her, even if he had agreed to her terms for waiting until she was ready.
‘Being pretty is something you always say,’ she said, pushing all thoughts of the passionate kiss to one side.
‘It doesn’t make it any less true.’ Astrid reached out her hand and caught hers. ‘I’m proud of you, Svanna. Always. Remember that.’
A lump came into Svanna’s throat. Astrid always doled out praise sparingly, which made her words even more precious because Svanna knew they weren’t meaningless utterings but came from her heart.
‘I’ve no intention of forgetting such a thing.’
Astrid waved her hand. ‘I wish to see you properly settled on your wedding night. Women like us have such a brief opportunity to tie their husbands to them. Oftentimes, a single night. Use it well. Do not waste it on trivialities.’
‘I’ll not squander it,’ Svanna promised, trying not to think about how Astrid would disagree with the bargain she’d made.
‘My lady, your daughter is perfection. No man could resist her,’ a servant murmured. ‘Lord Sigmund made me promise that I would keep you from over-exerting yourself. He requires you in his life.’
‘Thank you,’ Astrid mumbled, her body crumpling. Svanna discreetly signalled to several women to support her. One put an arm about her. ‘You are a thoughtful person. Better than I deserve.’
Helped by the women, Astrid departed.
‘Won’t be long now,’ Svanna said into the silence which had fallen.
The remaining women gave indulgent smiles and burst into another round of telling ribald stories about various wedding nights.
Svanna wondered how she’d ever considered any of them prudish.
The noise from the men grew louder, and the women’s eyes danced.
One darted forward and rearranged Svanna’s hair and gown, making sure that the shadowy vee between her breasts was exposed. ‘Now you are ready to be eaten all up.’
With the sound of swords hitting shields, drums banging and shouts of ‘Here comes the groom!’, Rand stumbled into the room. The women clapped their hands.
‘Ladies,’ he said, swaying slightly. ‘I have arrived.’
His mouth seemed slack. A vagueness entered his eyes. Svanna’s heart sank. He must have drunk quite a lot. She remembered Astrid confiding how insensible the usurper had been when they’d wed, and how he’d forgotten his promises. She had to hope that Rand remembered his.
‘Lord Randolfr,’ Svanna said, trying to ignore the butterflies which had taken up residence in her belly. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’
Coarse laughter from the assembled crowd rang out.
‘Will you leave me and my bride?’ Rand made a flourishing bow and appeared to stumble halfway through. He spun around and managed to fall on the bed with his arms open wide.
The crowd shouted encouragement.
He patted the bed. ‘Wife? Will you join me? Far more comfortable here than standing in the centre of the room.’
The crowd lapped it up, hooting with laughter and egging him on.
Wrapping the last shreds of her dignity about her, Svanna gingerly walked over and carefully sat beside him, keeping her body as still as possible, despite her hands trembling uncontrollably.
However, the fur-draped mattress dipped and she slid into his body.
Her entire being was immediately aware of his hard muscle.
She edged away from him and gripped the top fur until her knuckles turned white. ‘I’m here.’
She winced at how high-pitched her voice sounded.
He lifted his head slightly at her words. His brow knit. He ostentatiously cleared his throat and waited for the room to grow quiet. ‘What is about to pass between us doesn’t require an audience, does it, ladies?’
Much renewed tittering and giggling before the women slowly exited the chamber, whispering and nudging each other. One briefly put her hand on top of Svanna’s ice-cold one, saying that she hoped Svanna would pass a comfortable night. She winked at Rand, whose smile increased.
Svanna dug her fingernails into the fur and her face grew hot. Rand gave her a concerned glance and she prayed to the Norns he’d consider the burn on her cheeks was due to the torches.
After the last woman had departed, he rose and closed the door firmly, setting a heavy trunk against it. ‘To prevent anyone from accidentally barging in.’
‘Do you think they will?’ Wild and uncontrollable laughter escaped her throat. She found it impossible to stop until all air had vanished from her lungs. She lay, gasping for breath, staring at the tapestries.
‘I lack the ability to foretell the future. I hope for the former and wish to prevent the latter.’ His voice had lost its slur.
She turned her head, the better to study him. His eyes appeared alert, his mouth was no longer slack and he’d adjusted his tunic.
‘No great display of passion on either of our parts required,’ he continued. ‘The kiss at the wedding was enough.’
‘That was purely for public consumption?’ Her heart thudded. She’d allowed those old dreams of hers to get the better of her common sense. She should have expected it, and she hated that she’d wanted to believe that he might be attracted to her in some way.
‘I dislike providing public sport. I presume you are not overly fond of it either, if your looks of sheer terror are anything to go by.’
Svanna sat up and put a hand to her head, trying to collect her thoughts. ‘The whole experience is new to me.’
He walked over to where a jug and two goblets stood on a table. ‘Sigmund thoughtfully provided us with some mead. Do you require any?’
She nodded.
He poured the golden mead with a steady hand before holding a goblet out to her. ‘Possibly some of his finest, but guessing is beyond my powers.’
‘You were shamming,’ she said, shaking her head at her gullibility. She picked up a pillow and threw it at him. ‘You utter wretch. You could have warned me.’
‘Careful of the mead.’ He easily sidestepped the pillow. ‘If you’d known, would it have changed the result?’
‘Yes…’ She tucked her head into her neck. ‘Probably not, but the principle of the thing remains.’
‘How good are you at playacting?’
Svanna crossed her arms. ‘I did it for over a decade without discovery.’
He set the mead down. ‘True enough. I hadn’t considered the problem in that light.’
‘How good do you think you are?’
‘Managed to fool you, did I?’ A pleased smile split his face. ‘Good to know that I can. The tossed pillow shows the truth in my statement.’
‘I…’ she started and was tempted to give a non-committal answer but then decided to admit the truth. ‘I was utterly fooled. And I was deeply worried for a few heartbeats.’
He tilted his head to one side. His face sobered. ‘Worried, why?’
Svanna hugged her waist tighter. The feeling of being out of her depth swamped her. Even though, in her head, she’d had many conversations with him—or, to be more accurate, her idea of him—she didn’t really know him or how he’d react. All she knew about men was from her time in Agthir.
‘Drunken men sometimes ignore their promises. Reasons exist why I kept my dog close and avoid feasts.’
The desire to explain what had happened to her on the morning he’d disappeared rose within her, but she forced it back down her throat.
It was unimportant. She had survived and as Helga, her old nurse, had pointed out, she bore a large part of the blame for wandering around without an escort.
For many years she’d thought this assessment was correct, but now she had to wonder why Turgeis felt entitled to behave the way he did, particularly against a member of the King’s family.
She had not really done anything wrong. No, it was better to leave it, she decided.
It was in her past and behind her. Unalterable, like his wife’s death.
‘The feasts could be raucous affairs, particularly when the King or my foster-mother was absent. I rapidly learned how to ensure I kept my honour.’