Page 26 of Paying the Viking's Price

‘Where would you like me?’ She forced her trembling legs to curtsy.

A wide smile split his face as coarse laughter resounded from the entire hall.

‘My bedchamber will suffice...for now.’ He paused and his hot gaze travelled all over her. Edith frantically wished that she hadn’t drunk all that mead. It was making her head spin. She wanted to sit down again and have the room stop spinning, but that wasn’t an option.

‘Is that an order?’ She tilted her chin upwards.

‘Yes.’ The word hissed from his lips. ‘I trust you to obey it.’

‘Very well, I shall use the lord’s bedchamber instead of my own.’ Edith hated how the blood pounded in her ears and the way the room slowly spun around. Somehow she had to do this—find a way to please Brand. It was the only way to ensure no one would get hurt.

‘Wait.’

‘Have I done something wrong?’

He reached her in two steps and pulled her against his hard body. Her body collided with his muscle. Unlike Egbert, there was no soft layer of fat. He was a warrior through and through. Edith swallowed hard—what had she been thinking about in provoking him?

‘You need this.’ His mouth swooped down, capturing hers.

He tasted of honey-sweet mead and something indefinably male and him. The kiss seared and branded her as his.

He put her from him amid loud catcalls and cheers. Edith knew her face burnt. She wiped her hand across her aching mouth. ‘What was that for? Uncalled for and unasked for!’

She was furious with him and with her body for wanting more. She crossed her arms over her suddenly aching breasts.

His finger traced a burning line down her cheek. ‘A taste of what is to come, Lady Edith, and you will find the experience enjoyable. I can guarantee you that.’

Edith picked up her skirts and ran as hearty male laughter rang out behind her and Hilda. More than anything that kiss demonstrated how little control over her body she actually had.

Chapter Five

‘Thank you, Edith,’ Hilda said as she brushed Edith’s hair, turning it as smooth as the raven’s wing. ‘You were marvellous back there. Truly formidable. You saved my life. That Norseman would have...’

‘I couldn’t have you slaughtered before my eyes.’ Edith gave a hiccupping laugh. Ever since they had left the hall, Hilda had stuck close to her side, insisting on helping her to undress, even going and getting some scent to dab on her wrists. Edith allowed it, but she couldn’t help thinking that a true lady would have had more control. She silently tried to remember what her mother had said on the subject when she told her that she’d have to endure her husband’s touch, but she’d have children to hold at the end.

Edith bit her lip. She wasn’t going to think about children or how Egbert’s well-chosen punch to her stomach, followed by a swift kick when she refused to allow him to beat one of the serving girls for spilling his drink ended her dream of being a mother. She’d miscarried a beautiful boy. Ever after she could not bear his touch. Thankfully he had never tried to get in her bed again.

Now, his last mistress regarded her with an intent expression.

‘Do you have something to say, Hilda?’ she said, expecting another tirade about the Norsemen and their brutish ways.

‘I was very foolish, I know that now. I thought...I thought it might be the same as with Egbert, but it wasn’t.’

‘These Norsemen are of a different breed.’ Edith took the brush from Hilda’s hand and gave her hair a few last vigorous strokes.

‘You can say that again. The scar on Brand Bjornson’s neck! It goes right round. I’m sure it is true what they say about his mother.’ Hilda shuddered. ‘He appears too wild, but he can control his men.’

‘Warriors have all sorts of scars. By all accounts Brand Bjornson has been fighting for ever.’ Edith put the brush down. ‘But it did give me pause. I do know the rumours of how well he performed in battle. They say he is the main reason why the rebellion failed.’

Hilda nodded and began to pace the room, moving as if she was completely unsettled again. Edith’s heart sank. The last thing she wanted to be bothered with was Hilda’s problems. She had enough of her own. Brand’s latest kiss seemed imprinted on her brain.

Her body wanted to believe it would be different with him, indeed she’d never experienced that tingling soaring sensation even in the heady days before her marriage when Egbert had made her feel like she was the most precious object in the world. Her head kept telling her that all men were the same. And she had no idea how Brand would behave if she failed to please him. She flinched, remembering how Egbert had taken his revenge for her shortcomings—first with snide remarks and then increasingly with his fists.

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