Harper St. George - Marrying Her Viking Enemy

He tried to see her through the eyes he’d had the night before. Eyes that hadn’t known her parentage. The belt around her waist emphasised her lean figure, and the curve of her hips. She was soft in all the places a woman should be soft. The blush on her face last night when she’d gazed upon his nudity confirmed her interest in him as a man. If she was a spy, perhaps he’d have better success seducing the admission out of her.

Once realised, the thought took up residence in his head and refused to leave. As arousing as the idea of having her beneath him was, the task left a bitter taste. If she were a spy for her father, then it would confirm Godric’s intention. And Rolfe would have lost the only woman to challenge him in a long time.

She let another arrow fly and this time hit the target dead centre. Despite himself, pride swelled in his chest. It was unreasonable that he should feel anything for her already, but there it was. He told himself it was lingering affection for the woman who had tended him last night, the woman who had sparked his interest before he’d learned her true identity. The wind tugged at the hair in her loose braid, sending a few dark strands to fly free across her face. It was actually a very lovely face, with soft lips and gently sculpted cheekbones. When she brushed the strands back, she looked up and caught him watching her, but the distance was too great for him to discern her thoughts.

Lady Gwendolyn had walked back to the sisters and started working with the other, drawing Elswyth’s attention. Free from her stare, he caught Aevir watching the sisters. ‘Leave her be, Aevir.’

‘I rather like looking at the pair of them.’ His friend grinned.

‘They haven’t the land or the riches you desire.’

Aevir stared at him in shock. ‘You’re declaring yourself already, man?’

Rolfe shrugged. ‘Nay.’ The word sounded weak. He had enough riches from his years of fighting at Vidar’s side to see him well into his old age and he didn’t particularly need or want lands. For whatever reason, he’d liked Elswyth last night before he’d found out who her father was. If she was here with honourable intentions instead of as an emissary for her father and he had no choice but to wed...why not let it be to her?

‘Let’s not quibble over women,’ Vidar said. ‘There are more than enough to go around. Besides, Aevir, I need you to go north. Watch Banford. Our skirmish with the Scots is bound to have an effect. If Banford is co-operating with them, they’ll be communicating now.’

‘I can go,’ Rolfe offered. He felt responsible for the situation and he would see it through.

‘Nay, stay and recover. Right now we’re only watching. You need to be well for the fight, if there is one,’ said Vidar.

Aevir nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘You’ll leave tomorrow. We’ll talk more tonight.’

Aevir agreed and then left them to finish sparring with some of his warriors.

Vidar chuckled when they were alone. ‘It’s good that you want her. I only hope she feels the same.’

Regret twisted inside him. He liked her well enough, aye, but why did she have to come from Banford? Some men married and were able to keep their hearts out of it. Rolfe didn’t think he was one of those men. A few moments with Elswyth last night had already touched him far too deeply. Rolfe knew himself well enough to know that if he allowed himself to become infatuated with her, then his judgement could be compromised. If it had happened with Hilde, it could happen again. ‘Do you not suspect her of being a spy?’

Vidar was quiet as he pondered that for a moment. ‘Until last night she had barely deigned to speak to a Dane—aside from me—the entire time she’s been here. It seems her father’s attitudes have indeed been ingrained in the girl. I pondered early on in her visit that he’d sent her to poison us with the meals she helped prepare and was gratified when that didn’t come to pass.’ Then he shrugged as if her being a spy was nothing. ‘Let her tell him of our warriors and our power. Perhaps the information will spur him to our side.’

‘I would find out the truth of her intentions before marrying her.’

Vidar was quiet for a moment before finally nodding. ‘How would you do that?’

Rolfe hardly thought Vidar would agree to seduction. Elswyth was his wife’s relation and under his guardianship, spy or not. ‘I’ll ingratiate myself to her...see if I can get her to open up to me.’

‘She’d hardly be a good spy if a little kindness gets her to spill her secrets,’ Vidar said as if he suspected Rolfe’s plan.

‘She’s a farm girl. She’ll hardly be experienced enough in spying to mislead me.’

‘And if she’s innocent?’ Vidar’s voice was even and quiet.

Rolfe paused, nearly choking on the words he was about to say. ‘Then I’ll marry her. But if she’s not, then we have proof of Godric’s treachery.’

‘It’s a solid plan.’

‘I’ll have your word that she’ll be mine and you won’t offer her to Aevir.’

Vidar grinned. ‘She will be yours, though you’ll have a fight on your hands if she ever finds out about your actions in Banford.’

Vidar was right. If her loyalty to her family and village was even half as fierce as Rolfe suspected, then she would hate him for what he had done. ‘Then we have no choice but to make certain she never finds out.’

N otch the arrow. Pull back. Focus on the target. Let it fly .

It was a ritual that quieted Elswyth’s mind and one that she’d come to appreciate. It allowed her to ignore the very real possibility that, with threats from the Scots and possibly the Danes, she’d have to use her newly acquired archery skills in the near future. Lady Gwendolyn and Ellan had moved farther down the field to work on her sister’s aim, leaving Elswyth to her ritual. Ellan was enthusiastic, but lacked the interest required for hours of daily practice. Elswyth, on the other hand, loved losing herself in the steady rhythm of repetitive training.

She wasn’t surprised that Rolfe came to a stop near her after the women had drifted away. He’d been watching her from across the field for nearly the entire practice. Her traitorous arm trembled at his nearness, forcing her to take in a deep breath to steady herself. He had a large presence and it wasn’t simply due to his size, though that alone would have been intimidating. There was something about him that announced his arrival without him even having to say a word, as if he commanded the very air around him the way he commanded his men.

She let the arrow fly and it landed just to the left of the centre of her target. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. She had placed the sack fifty paces out, so she’d count it as her furthest success so far. ‘Good morning, Dane.’

‘Saxon.’ She didn’t look at him, but the smile was evident in his voice. ‘You’re very good. How long have you been an archer?’

The next arrow made a soft whooshing sound as she drew it out of the quiver on her back. She took her time notching it, letting her thumb brush over the roughly carved wood as she pondered his question. It was simple enough to answer, but she couldn’t help but wonder why he was asking. Did he suspect something of her? What exactly did he want with her? Had she imagined the way he’d talked with her last night had been a sign of something more than benign friendship he was offering? Was she even capable of leading him down that path in the hopes of gathering more information from him? She wanted desperately to prove her loyalty to her father, but she wasn’t very good at artifice.

Last night Rolfe hadn’t come out and said anything inappropriate. If anything, she was the inappropriate one. But there had seemed to be something more. Even across the field this morning, when he’d looked at her, there had been an intensity there that hinted at an interest that was more than friendship.