Chapter Fifteen
Repelled
The lingering memory of Kara’s hot kisses turned into pounding pain inside Aaron’s head.
He sought comfort the only way he knew how.
In something that could numb his senses—mead.
Not the ordinary kind. His cousin’s brewer used more honey and special yeast to make the drink doubly potent.
He tapped his fingers on the table, considering his options.
Oh, there was the fact they’d made love. That unsavory piece of information would either convince Erik the Bald to let him marry his only daughter or get him stabbed in the gut. Or, he could leave his future to fate.
Cupping his head in both hands, he didn’t see who came up behind him. He didn’t really care. One wrong word and he’d likely throw a punch.
“Are you waiting for someone?” Tyr asked.
Aaron gazed up at his kinsman. “I thought you were asleep.”
Tyr chuckled, although he seemed to be evaluating his condition. “Is there anything left in the bottle?”
Aaron lifted the flagon. It felt empty. “You’re too late, all the bloody mead is gone.” His mind was a whirl, as susceptible as flame in wind. Yet he had the grace to pull out the chair next to him. “Please, sit with me.”
Tyr accepted. “I cannot count the times you’ve frequented my table in this condition.”
Words that forced Aaron to remember his own selfishness in the past. “Another reason to distance yourself from me.”
“Actually,” Tyr commented. “I prefer you this way.”
Frowning, Aaron tilted his head. “Why?”
His cousin slapped him on the back. “You finally care about someone other than yourself.”
Surprised, he let out a breath. “You’re not paying me any compliments.”
“Aye,” Tyr said. “But I’m not insulting you, either.”
Aaron visually searched the tabletops below.
He found what he was looking for, a bottle of wine.
He stood, then stumbled off the dais, grabbing the open bottle.
Instead of measuring out a serving in a cup, he drank greedily.
He welcomed oblivion. When he was finished, he dropped the empty vessel on the floor. “Goddamnit.”
Tyr burst out laughing. “By the gods, Aaron. What could that tiny girl have possibly done to crush your manhood?” he asked.
“Shall I impart to you a piece of wisdom from the Sayings of the High One? Only a fool lies awake all night and broods over his problems. When morning comes, he is worn out and his troubles the same as before.”
That earned Tyr a scowl. His cousin’s love life hadn’t always been so tranquil. “Speaking from experience?”
“Aye.” Tyr’s eyes glinted. “If I weren’t, I’d have no right to counsel you. Fermented drink isn’t the answer.”
“No, but it will dull the ache.”
“Until morning,” his cousin reminded. “Then you’ll beg me to split your skull in half with my axe to ease the pressure between your ears.”
Aaron wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Perhaps I should follow in your footsteps and find myself a Saxon wench to bed.”
Tyr’s shoulders stiffened. “Don’t blacken this moment by recalling our past, you’ll find yourself on my wrong side again.”
Another reason Aaron had given up overindulging in drink. Whenever he did, his mind wandered to times better forgotten. “I apologize.”
“Come back to the table.”
Aaron returned in a huff. “Don’t worry about me. Go back to your beautiful wife.”
“Listen.” Tyr reclined, resting his feet on the tabletop. “How long has it been since you’ve visited your steading? Inventoried your livestock and crops? Relaxed before your own hearth?”
Never. Since the day King Magnus deeded his lands, he hadn’t spent more than a week at a time there.
Occasionally, he sent a man from Oslo to oversee the harvest. But he relied on his tenants to manage his household and keep records.
“I’ve had no time to do so.” What he wanted to do at the moment was stalk upstairs and ravage Kara’s mouth with hungry bites and kisses.
Not discuss his assets in the middle of the night with his kinsman.
“The longer you stay here and wallow in misery, the more likely the girl will continue to resist you. Go home. Kara is safe. You’ve done your duty.
I’m happy to report, at the risk of reprisal for breaking my oath of secrecy to my wife, that the girl is as enamored with you as you are with her. My wife guarantees it.” He grinned.
Aaron shifted. Enamored? Maybe yesterday, not tonight.
And likely not tomorrow. She’d chosen Frieda.
And the idea of going home unsettled him.
He’d been without for one half of his life, travelling back and forth between Scotland and Norway, even visiting distant relations in France as a child.
Further testament of his failure as a son.
The idea of establishing a household of his own set him on edge.
Unless he could share it with Kara. “I’ll go. ”
“I know you put off the investigation in Alesund to come here. Let a couple of my men take care of it. Send a letter to the king, so he knows where you are.”
Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed. “You trust your men to inspect a burned church? After my last visit, I’m not convinced they’ll do it.”
“They’ll do what they’re told.”
“Aye,” Aaron said. Few men disobeyed Jarl Sigurdsson. “Send Onetooth.”
Tyr’s lips curled into a roguish smile. “Onetooth?”
“Though he’d rather see me dead, I trust the old mercenary.”
“I’ll assign him first thing in the morning.”
“I’m grateful.” Aaron gripped his cousin’s shoulder. The king owed him some time off after everything he’d done.
Tyr waved his hand dismissively. “You’re my cousin.”
What about Frieda? Just because Aaron went away didn’t mean his problem with his former lover would. “And the child?”
“It’s obvious he’s not your son.” Tyr grimaced. “Frieda cannot leave my household soon enough. I’ll handle everything. Since she accused you under my roof, I am obligated to make inquiries. I’ll interrogate her and search for her kinsmen. We’ll find the father.”
“I cannot thank you enough.”
“Now, I’m tired, let’s go to bed.” Tyr stood. “Do you need help upstairs?”
Aaron smiled. “I think I can find my way.”
“There’s something else . . .” Tyr grasped his arm. “Of all the daughters in Norway, you chose well. Erik the Bald will make an excellent ally. If you wish me to intercede on your behalf—to negotiate a marriage contract—I will.”
Aaron appreciated the significance of his cousin’s gesture. “If he finds out I’ve bedded his daughter, while he entrusted me with her life, he’ll have cause to kill me.”
Tyr leaned forward. “Convince him otherwise.”
Just to prove her point of indifference toward Jarl McNally, Kara dressed early, then made her way to the great hall hoping to see him. Much to her surprise, he wasn’t there. Not at the high table or near the kitchen.
“Looking for someone?” Tyr asked as he came up beside her.
“Milord.” She shrunk back.
“Aaron isn’t here,” Tyr whispered. “He’s gone home.”
“Home?” she repeated, startled. To her knowledge, Aaron didn’t have a home. He lived in King Olaf’s palace or slept in a tent. “Scotland?” Her heart sank.
“No,” Tyr patted her arm. “He owns lands a few miles north of here. The poor man rarely gets an opportunity to visit his tenants. Considering the circumstances . . .” He stared at her. “. . . I think it a wise choice.”
Emotions gushed inside her. Odin, this isn’t what I planned.
She’d intended to make Jarl McNally squirm a little.
To earn her trust and affection back. After a sleepless night considering everything that happened at the feast, she’d finally realized how wrong she’d been to rush to judgment.
Blame it on jealousy. Disappointment. And any other negative feelings.
Knowing his past was one thing, seeing it in the form of a beautiful woman claiming they shared a child together, was another.
“Regrets?” Tyr interrupted her thought.
“Maybe,” she said half-hearted. “If you’re generous enough to forgive Aaron, then perhaps I should do the same.”
“He told you?”
“Briefly. I know he kidnapped your wife. I also know Frieda had a part in it.”
“Aye.” Tyr rubbed the back of his neck. “My kinsman has paid a heavy price for his transgressions.”
“And my father knows everything.”
“Did Aaron reveal that, too?”
“No. I pieced it together after our discussion last night. I often wondered why my sire disliked him so much. Opposing faiths isn’t reason enough to make a fool out of the king’s representative.”
“Clever girl.”
“I only wish . . .”
“What?” Tyr probed.
“Nothing.” She didn’t want to share any more than she already had. “May I borrow a horse after we break our fast, milord?”
“Do you have a specific destination in mind?”
“No,” she lied. “A bit of fresh air will help clear my head.” She looked away.
“Take one of my thralls with you,” Tyr directed. “And if you find yourself riding northward, stay on the main road. Aaron’s steading is visible from the path.”
She didn’t know whether to be grateful or offended. Cheeks burning, she retreated to the kitchen to ask for some bread to take with her.
Rachelle’s husband finally joined her at the high table. She had observed the conversation between him and Kara, watched the girl’s face grow redder by the moment. She’d also watched the girl flee the hall. What had Tyr said to her?
He leaned in and kissed her cheek affectionately. “Good morning, my love. It seems our guest cannot stay mad at Aaron for more than a day.” Tyr reached for a trencher of pork.
“I find it hard to believe she’s willing to admit it.”
“Aye,” Tyr said. “I’m sure it was unintentional, but her demeanor changed after I told her Aaron no longer resided here.”
Rachelle gaped at her husband. Sometimes his tactics were so underhanded. “Are you playing matchmaker again?” A hopeless romantic, her spouse had been the catalyst for eight marriages over the last three years. “You must let nature take its course.”
He chuckled. “If I had waited for you,” he teased, “I’d be cold in the ground.”
She cuffed his arm. “You’re shameless, Jarl Sigurdsson.”
“She asked for a horse.”
“And you agreed?”
Tyr took her wrist and pulled her toward him. “She thinks she’s free.” He brushed soft kisses across her mouth. “Two of my guards will follow her at a distance.” He handed her a cup of milk. “I want to know where she’s going.”
“Why?” Rachelle asked. “She’s never been to this part of the country before.”
“I gave her directions to Aaron’s steading.”
She fingered a strand of his blond hair. “I’m very fond of you, husband.”
“All of me?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Some parts more than others,” she goaded. “But today, your heart.”
“The girl needs to accept her future. She knows she acted foolish last night, rushed to judgment. My cousin deserves to be happy. I’m convinced Kara is the only woman for him.”
Rachelle leaned back in her chair. Yes, Aaron appeared to be a changed man.
But with Frieda lurking about the Trondelag, would Jarl McNally be tempted to revert to his old ways to get rid of her?
“As adverse as I am to interfering, perhaps it’s time to invite her father here.
Let’s help our kinsman achieve peace before rumors about Frieda’s son reach the south. ”
Tyr gave her a half smile. “It seems my beloved wife grows more and more like me every day. I will consider your proposal.”