Michelle Styles - Taken by the Viking

He signaled to two of his men, who pinned her arms to her sides. She fought against them, her calm deserting her.

“What do you mean?” Annis’s voice held a note of panic.

Haakon gritted his teeth. Did she think he’d be lenient because they had lain in each other’s arms?

“Cut her hair. Place a collar about her neck. Then put her in the pigsty, where she can contemplate what she has done.” Haakon stared at her, hating her. She had lied to him, whispered soft words and given advice. Asked what the lands to the south were like.

He had liked her, lusted after her body, wanted to spend time with her, and all the while she’d wanted to betray him. He should have remembered the lessons of his youth—women were not to be trusted.

Taken by the Viking

Harlequin ®Historical

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When I was very young, my maternal grandfather gave the grandchildren an illustrated book of Scandinavian fairy tales so that we could learn about our heritage. Some of the tales caused nightmares, but one of my earliest memories includes looking at the wonderfully romantic picture of a dark-haired Viking on a white horse, holding the woman he had just kidnapped, as my mother read the story about how Sweden was founded. I have had a soft spot for Vikings ever since.

Thus, when I met my lovely editors for lunch and they casually suggested the Viking period, I struggled to maintain my poise, be very professional and not punch the air in excitement. On the way home from the lunch, I scribbled basic notes, wrote a premise, then held my breath. Would they see the possibilities? Luckily, they were very enthusiastic about my ideas, and I was given the go-ahead to write this book. Hopefully you will find this time period as exciting as I do and enjoy this tale. I certainly enjoyed writing it.

As ever, I do love reader feedback. You can contact me through my Web site, www.michellestyles.co.uk, my blog, www.michellestyles.blogspot.com or through the Harlequin Books office. If you are interested in my latest news and forthcoming releases, I have a newsletter that readers can subscribe to. You can find details about it on my Web site.

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To my sister, Kate, med elske

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Author’s Note

8 June 793—Lindisfarne, Northumbria

Annis pressed her lips together, trying to keep her head from moving as her maid plaited her hair. What had she really hoped for? That her uncle, the Abbot of St Cuthbert’s Priory, would give her money to fight her stepfather? His only suggested alternative had been the church. She could have a good position as long as she brought her dowry with her.

‘My lady, it will take less time if you bend your head slightly this way.’

Annis regarded the wall of the guesthouse at St Cuthbert’s, with its mural of Mary kneeling at the base of the cross, and concentrated harder.

It had been a mistake to come. Last night’s conversation still rang in her ears. Her uncle refused to listen to her arguments. Why had she ever thought otherwise?

She’d leave the monastery and the island tomorrow at low tide when the causeway was passable, Annis decided. She would have to return home to Birdoswald on the River Irthing in the west of Northumbria. And face the future her way.

‘Is this suitable, my lady?’

Her new maidservant, Mildreth, finished plaiting her hair and handed her a small mirror. Annis took a brief glance at herself. Her wayward tumble of brown curls had been tamed into two neat plaits on either side of her head. Annis considered her hair to be her best feature, perhaps her only noteworthy feature, but something with a will of its own. Mildreth knew what she was doing, she’d allow, but Annis refused to trust her.

Mildreth was her stepfather’s creature. Had to be. Her stepfather had forced all her maids and retainers to be changed after her husband had died and she had returned to the family lands. There had been no excuse for her to stay with Selwyn’s family. She had no child and her sister-in-law had always resented her. So she had returned, hoping for a better reception, and discovered her stepfather firmly in control of the family lands.

‘Soon we will be preparing for your betrothal.’

‘If God wills…’ Annis placed the mirror back on the dressing table and forced her face to remain bland. She had no intention of marrying her stepfather’s son, the odious Eadgar, with his damp hands and even damper manner. Neither did she intend on retiring to a convent as her uncle had suggested. There had to be another way.

‘You will have to marry sometime. Eadgar is a fine—’ Mildreth stopped and her face grew distressed. ‘Mistress, I cannot lie. I have grown fond of you. Eadgar is a terror. All the maidservants fear him if they are caught alone with him. Please say nothing.’

Annis caught Mildreth’s hand. A faint pink tinged the maid’s cheeks, making her almost pretty. Annis felt happier than she had been in weeks. Her journey to Lindisfarne had not been in vain. She had discovered an ally of sorts.

‘We share the same view of Eadgar.’

‘They said you were kind, my lady, and you are.’

‘It is far too soon to speak of remarriage in any case.’ Annis straightened the neck of her gown. ‘My husband is barely cold in his grave. There will be time enough to speak of marriage after I have finished mourning him. I came here seeking my uncle’s advice and, having received it, I will return to my home.’