Paying the Viking's Price

‘The estate is indeed productive,’ he said at the end of Lady Edith’s lengthy recital about what she had done to improve the estate this year. ‘You appear well versed in all aspects of it. A surprising pastime for a lady.’

‘You see the value of keeping me as a steward?’ Her nostrils quivered slightly with tension, much as a high-strung horse might quiver before battle. She wanted to run the estate. Why was it so important to her? Running an estate was a thankless task. What did she want out of this? What game was she playing? His father’s wife had always played games.

The saying he learnt in Byzantium—to keep your friends close, but your enemies closer—flashed in his mind.

‘Not as a steward.’ He paused, beginning to enjoy himself. ‘But I do wish you to remain on in this hall. You are an unexpected addition to the estate.’

She licked her lips, turning them a deeper red. ‘As what? I’m no maidservant for your wife. I’ve my pride.’

He waited a heartbeat and leant forwards so that his breath interlaced with hers. She did know the game. The pretence ended here. ‘As my concubine.’

She drew back, her eyes widening as the colour drained from her face. ‘Your...your concubine?’

‘I have no need of a wife, but there is a current that runs between us. You can feel it as well as I.’ He stroked a line down her face. Her flesh quivered deliciously under his fingertips. ‘One year will be enough to satisfy my desire.’

‘And after the year?’

‘I will provide you safe passage to wherever you wish to go. You will be handsomely compensated for your time. I’m a generous master. None of my women have ever complained.’

A shocked gasp ran through the hall and he heard the soft swish of his men drawing swords. He ignored the sounds and concentrated on Lady Edith. Everything depended on her answer.

‘You are asking me to forsake my honour and become your whore for the promise of an unspecified payment?’ She swallowed hard and kept her body rigid, far too rigid.

Brand narrowed his gaze. Had he misjudged her earlier expression? Impossible. But as her cheek continued to be pale, he relented slightly and gestured towards the door.

‘You are welcome to go to the nearest nunnery if the terms do not suit you. My men will ensure your safe passage, but you leave immediately with only the clothes on your back. If you meet my terms, you will be able to choose where you go. My men will even escort you to Wessex if you so desire, but only after our bargain is complete.’

Her gaze narrowed. ‘With baggage? And any of my people who wish to go?’

‘With whatever belongs to you at that time.’

Emotions warred on her face. Was her love of treasure greater than her honour?

She glanced over her shoulder at her servants who now wore furious faces and gave a quick shake of her head. Her lips curved up in a false smile. ‘When you make an offer like that with such grace and tact, how can I refuse, Lord Bjornson?’

‘You can’t, mistress!’ someone shouted. ‘We will fight for your honour. Allow me to be your champion!’

The entire hall broke out in an uproar. Brand slammed his axe down on the stone flagging. The ringing sound silenced everyone.

‘I can and I will!’ Lady Edith retorted. ‘This Norseman has left me with no other choice. There will be no blood spilled in defence of my honour. I forbid it. It is a pale and worthless thing compared to one of your lives. Each of you is precious to me.’

Instantly the shouting stopped. Lady Edith stood, proud and alone, with more than a hint of vulnerability to her mouth. She held out her trembling hands.

‘And what will you do, Lady Edith? I want the words,’ Brand said. ‘For all to hear. I will not have it whispered that you were forced.’

‘I will be your concubine, Brand Bjornson. I do this of my own free will and at your asking.’

‘For an entire year?’

‘You will have me for a year and no longer.’ Her voice was colder than a Norwegian winter. ‘Then I leave for a place of my choosing with those things which belong to me and those people who wish to join me in exile.’

‘You have chosen, my lady,’ Brand said softly, not taking her outstretched fingers. There would be time enough to seal their bargain properly later. Without the benefit of onlookers.

He refused to feel sorry for her. Whatever was hidden here meant more to her than her body or her so-called honour and virtue. Sending for a wife could wait until he concluded his business with Lady Edith. It would be short, sweet and ultimately pleasurable for the both of them, but such dalliances never lasted long. After the passion was spent, women ceased to intrigue him.

‘Then it is done?’ Her grey eyes appeared troubled. ‘Settled?’

‘It is done.’ He raised her hand to his lips. ‘I will hold you to your word. What is mine stays mine. And you are mine for an entire year.’

* * *

His concubine. For an entire year. The enormity of what she had done, in front of everyone, thudded through Edith. She leant against the kitchen’s outside wall, trying to get her racing heart to slow down.

She’d agreed to be Brand Bjornson’s mistress. Not even his wife, but his mistress. Hilda could have made a better fist of it. Shackled to him as little better than a bed slave!

The scared faces of her household had made the decision simple. She couldn’t abandon them to life under Norseman rule while she made her way to the relative safety of a nunnery.

Who knew what Brand Bjornson might do to some of them—people who had given their lives to ensure she and her family lived in comfort? What good would her honour be if she abandoned those who were ready to lay their lives down for her?

It wasn’t the future she’d envisioned this morning, but she had to do it. She had to be able to speak for those who couldn’t. In a year’s time, she could leave and even go to the relative safety of Wessex with a baggage train. If all went well, she could take those people who wanted to go with her. She wrapped her arms about her waist and tried to control her shaking.

She’d have to share his bed and keep him entertained. Something that in the past she’d singularly failed to do for a man. Egbert’s many accusations and taunts echoed in her mind—she possessed not one feminine attribute, was confrontational at the wrong times and the only thing about her which even remotely interested a man was her dowry.

She must’ve been mad. This little adventure would end the instant Brand Bjornson took her to bed. The entire world tilted. She put her hand out to steady herself. What had she done?

‘Cousin? Is anything the matter?’ Hilda asked, catching her arm. ‘At last I find you. I have been hiding, but heard no sound of battle so decided to come and find you. Have the Norsemen left? Is everything as it was? Your scheme worked, didn’t it?’

‘I...I...’ Edith struggled to find the right words.

Edith allowed Hilda to lead her to an alcove where they both sat. Hilda patted Edith’s hand.

‘You rest. You’ve done enough getting rid of the Norsemen and having everything hidden. You’re close to collapse, Edith.’

Hilda’s appearance served to emphasise Edith’s problem. Every movement Hilda made seemed designed to entice or make her more attractive. Around her, Edith always considered herself gawky and awkward.

If Hilda had been there, would Brand Bjornson have been so quick to make her his concubine? She dug her nails into her palm. She should be grateful for small mercies.

Hilda only thought of herself. She had no feeling for the land or its people. All Edith could do was to try to survive and play whatever game this Norseman was playing to the end.

‘Not yet. They haven’t left yet.’ Edith smoothed her skirt. The action calmed her jangled nerves. She’d go mad if she tried to think about what ifs and how the past could have been different. ‘But don’t worry, Hilda. I have a scheme. They will go in time and all will return to how it was. I have to believe that.’

‘Oh, no!’ Hilda stuffed her hand in her mouth and she began to rock back and forth. ‘A scheme? And time is something we don’t have.’

‘They will go eventually.’ Edith didn’t know whom she was trying to convince. ‘The Norsemen never stay long. War and the open sea call. Everything will go back to how it was. You see I still have the keys to all the stores? Trust me to make it right. We simply need to keep our nerve.’

She jangled the circlet of keys which hung from her waist. They’d belonged to her mother and every other lady who had ruled this house.

Hilda drew a deep shuddering breath and her eyes became marginally less wild. ‘If I must. Where will they stay? Will I have to encounter them and their barbaric ways?’

How their way could be more barbaric than Egbert and his men, Edith couldn’t say. She shuddered, remembering how powerless she’d felt in those few weeks before he departed. How hard she’d worked to shield various children from his abuses and what limited success she had had. Unlike Hilda, she hadn’t wept when she’d heard of Egbert’s death. She only wished it had happened before he had ruined everyone. All those countless lives lost and all the beatings she and others had suffered, simply because Egbert’s temper was uncertain. But he’d been unable to take the gold, silver and jewels. Some day she’d retrieve them from the lord’s bedchamber, but for now they were safe, stored right under the Norseman’s nose. The thought buoyed her spirits no end.

‘You’ll have to be civil, Hilda. There is little point in antagonising them. One must be practical about such things,’ she said carefully.

‘Will you marry the new earl? Did it happen like you predicted?’ Hilda watched her with narrowed eyes. ‘Is that what is going on? You can tell me, cousin. I can imagine the Norseman’s king doing that, not giving you time to properly mourn and seeking to secure peace on the land that way.’

‘No, my fate is something else.’ She paused and gazed directly at Hilda, whose golden-blonde hair, pale blue eyes and petite frame ensured men’s eyes followed her wherever she went. Hilda would learn soon enough. No doubt the entire hall buzzed with the news. ‘I’ve agreed to be Brand Bjornson’s concubine. I suspect the Norseman thinks it is an honour. And, yes, I do know how people will react and what they will call me but I did it for them. I hope to soften his heart towards my people.’

Saying the words out loud helped.

A tiny tingle went through her. It might be different with Brand Bjornson. When their hands had accidentally brushed as he regarded the ledger, all her senses became aware of him. Something that had never happened to her before. She banished the thought as wishful thinking and false hope. She’d endured Egbert’s touch and the bruises he had given her. She could cope with this Norseman. She was a survivor.

Hilda stared at her with shocked eyes and gaping mouth.

‘Thank you, cousin, for your silence.’

‘You’re serious! That’s your scheme?’

‘Would I joke about such a thing?’ Edith folded her hands in her lap. ‘I have to remain here in order for my plans to work. Leaving would have meant that I had lost everything.’

Hilda’s mouth dropped open, making her resemble a fish. ‘I’d rather kill myself. Brand Bjornson is a monster. His very name causes grown men to quake in their boots. And he sports an ugly red scar about his neck. They say that even his own mother tried to kill him but failed. The man sups with the devil.’

‘Unfortunately I didn’t have that choice,’ Edith said with a steady voice. Hilda was always overly dramatic, even as a young girl. ‘If I die, who will speak for the people who till this land or work in the kitchens? And I dare say Brand Bjornson sups with whoever sits down at his table.’

‘Stop trying to turn it into a joke, Edith. Why did you agree to it? How could you?’ Hilda shook her head. ‘Sometimes I fail to understand you, cousin. You should have drawn a knife, bared your breast and plunged it in. That is what any true Northumbrian lady would have done.’

Edith bit back the words asking why Hilda had agreed to be Egbert’s mistress, then? Even now, she refused to stoop that low. There were some things which were better left unsaid. She accepted that Hilda had had her reasons and overall had behaved better than some of Egbert’s other women.

‘Why, Edith?’

‘There were others to think of,’ she said finally when Hilda’s horrified gaze became too great to bear. ‘I refuse to abandon everyone for the sake of my honour. In this way, perhaps I can tame the Norseman and prevent him from destroying all that I hold dear. Mayhap in time he will come to trust me and will install me as the steward.’

‘As you say, it is your choice, my cousin.’ Hilda stood up and made a brief curtsy. ‘I wish you well. I mean that. I hope you know what you have undertaken. These men...they are not quite human. You are gently bred. You haven’t had to suffer—’

‘I believe I understand the rudiments of the position I now occupy.’

Hilda flushed. ‘No offence meant, cousin. I want to be certain that you know what you are doing. When I was in the south—’

‘Thank you, Hilda.’ Edith inclined her head. The last thing she wanted to hear was a horror story about how Hilda had experienced the habits of the Norsemen. If she did, her courage might give out. Right now, not thinking about what the night might bring was the only way she’d survive. ‘We have a feast to prepare. Busy hands mean neither of us will have time to think or consider.’

‘A feast? How can you think about eating at a time like this?’

‘The Norsemen will expect to be fed,’ Edith retorted, touching the keys to remind herself that she still had control. He hadn’t taken that away from her! ‘We must show them true Northumbrian hospitality. Thus far they have not started looting, pillaging or worse—something to be celebrated, surely?’

Hilda rolled her eyes. ‘You can be such an innocent, Edith.’

‘I prefer a realist,’ Edith said between gritted teeth. She wasn’t going to lose her temper. ‘I prefer this hall with four walls and a roof. I prefer to have a place to lay my head.’

‘And that’s it, the end as far as you are concerned?’ Hilda snapped her fingers under Edith’s nose. ‘You are giving up without a fight? You should have allowed me to speak to them. I would have fought them with my bare hands before I allowed them to take this hall. I never took you for a coward.’

‘I can hardly fight.’ Edith’s jaw ached and she tried to force her muscles to relax. ‘Egbert took every able-bodied man with him and not one has returned. How many widows did he leave in his quest for glory?’

‘And you believe you will be able to tame this Norseman warrior of yours?’ Hilda looked her up and down. ‘Do you have the womanly skills, cousin? You would be happier amongst the vellum and ink or out riding and looking at how the crops are doing. What do you know of the art of love? What will happen when this Norseman discovers you prefer learning to the arts of love?’

‘You forget yourself, cousin.’ Edith slammed her fists together. ‘You’re a guest here and asked for my protection, protection which I have sought to give. Always. Your behaviour here was your own affair and I’ve never questioned it.’

Hilda flushed scarlet and dropped her gaze. ‘Forgive me, Edith, for speaking plainly, but you must not hold on to false hope that you will be able to hold on to this place for the long term. Did you have another choice? Something that might save us both?’

Edith clenched her fists. She didn’t want to think about the night or what would happen when Brand discovered all of her inadequacies. She had to hope that he had another purpose in mind when he made her his concubine. Or that if Hilda had been there, she might have been the one he chose. ‘I will face that when I have to. These Norsemen may have different expectations.’

‘I hope for all of our sakes that they do.’ Hilda put her hand on Edith’s sleeve. ‘I really do, cousin. I just hope this one is worth it. That’s all. For once I don’t envy you.’

‘Thank you. It will be.’ Edith bowed her head and concentrated on the keys. It had to be. The alternative wasn’t worth contemplating.

‘Where do you expect me to be during this proposed feast?’ Hilda put a hand to her head. ‘You know how those Norsemen unnerve me. My mind goes all to pieces, but I want to play my part. Give me a job and I will do it, something out of the way. Just for a few days, until I know what they are on about and whether I need to find somewhere else to live.’

‘You may stay in the kitchen if the Norsemen upset you that much.’ Edith thought quickly. She agreed with Hilda that having her in the main hall would not do at all. Edith wanted to be able to concentrate on her role rather than wondering what Hilda might do next. ‘The cook can always do with another scullery maid. I doubt they will give you any bother there, so long as you don’t mind getting your hands dirty. I will have a word with him.’

Hilda’s cheeks reddened. ‘Thank you, cousin. I do appreciate your kindness. The kitchen it shall be. Should you need any advice...about...you know...I am happy to give it.’

‘It is kind of you to offer and I will remember it, should it come to it.’ Edith silently vowed that Hilda would be the last person she’d ask to tutor her in the arts of love. The humiliation would be far too great.

Hilda hurried off, her narrow hips swaying and her skirts swishing to give a glimpse of her ankles. Even the way she moved emphasised her sensuality and highlighted Edith’s own awkwardness.

Edith raised her fist. ‘I will do it. I will succeed. Or die in the attempt.’

Chapter Three

‘What are you contemplating, Lady Edith? You appear lost in your thoughts.’

Brand’s rich voice caused Edith to jump. He stood far too close to where she rested in the alcove. Where had he come from? And how much had he overheard? For a large man, he moved silently. She bit her lip. She’d have to remember that. Egbert had always announced his presence with heavy walking and a litany of complaints.

‘I was resting.’ Edith forced her hands to stay calmly in her lap, rather than gesturing wildly. Hilda’s story about Brand’s mother trying to kill him had to be a wild fantasy. No one surely could be that wicked. ‘The day has been traumatic for me. My entire life has been altered and it isn’t even midday. It has given me something to contemplate.’

‘You regret your decision now that you have had time to consider your position? You wish to leave for the nunnery, but worry about summoning the courage to inform me?’

The sun made it impossible for her to see his eyes. All she knew was that he wanted her to give up and admit defeat. That wasn’t going to happen. Retreating would be a defeat, not only for her but for everyone she cared about. Despite what Hilda thought, she could be a concubine even to a man like Brand Bjornson.

‘Not in the slightest.’ Edith tilted her chin upwards and met his penetrating blue gaze full on. ‘Were you searching for me? Has something happened?’

His dark blond hair fell in disarray about his shoulders and he’d shed his axe and overtunic, but that only emphasised the way his shirt clung to his chest. She was more aware than ever of the power in his shoulders. He was most definitely not a man to cross lightly. ‘Nothing unexpected.’

The strange warm tingling feeling invaded her body. This was the man she would have to play the concubine with, if she could. Her heart sank. Hilda was right. What had she been thinking of? The enormity of the task crashed into her. She should have taken the easy route out and saved her own skin. What if she didn’t please him? What would happen to everyone then?

‘It is good to know.’

He tilted his head to one side. ‘Did you think something would be wrong?’

‘Why should there be?’ She hurriedly smoothed her skirts and her hand touched the circlet of keys that she always wore. The tiny action gave her courage. She was doing it for her home. The keys were a comfort. She had them and it meant certain things were safe and hidden.

‘You are very quick with your answer.’ He regarded her with speculative eyes.

‘How long have you been standing there?’ she asked with a faint breathless catch in her voice, swallowed hard and tried again. This time her voice sounded firmer. ‘Is there something you require?’

‘Long enough.’

Edith rubbed the back of her neck. He’d overheard her conversation with Hilda, but she had to hope it was only the tail end. ‘It’s been a tiring day and your men will need to be fed. I have to make sure the servants understand the new situation. I wish to keep the incidents to a minimum.’

‘It is kind of you to be concerned, but my concubine doesn’t give the orders to any member of the household. She exists only to please me.’

Edith pursed her lips together—a subtle way of saying she lacked power. ‘I’d considered ordering a feast was pleasing to the master.’

She hated how the word stuck in her throat and how the sound of it brought home the precariousness of her position. She was little better than a shackled slave.

He raised his eyebrow. ‘It is good that you so readily acknowledge who I am. I had wondered if you would have to learn a hard lesson.’

‘I’ve never been a concubine before.’

A ghost of a smile flickered in the corner of his mouth. ‘I’d never have guessed, my lady.’

‘Spare the laughter and jest. I fail to find the joke amusing.’

‘Perish the thought.’ He inclined his head, but the twinkle in his eye deepened, turning his irises to the colour of the sky after weeks of grey cloud. A blue so vivid it hurt to look at it. ‘Maybe a little, but I enjoy teasing my women. But I remain serious about our bargain. I want you, Edith of Breckon, in my bed.’

Edith concentrated on a spot just above his shoulder, rather than gazing into his eyes. His woman. One of many? She could well imagine the sort of women they were. She had experienced Egbert’s parade and found positions and marriages for them after Egbert discarded them, so they wouldn’t suffer humiliation.

‘You should know that I am not very good at being a decorative object.’ She allowed her mouth to turn upwards. ‘I’ve never seen the point of flirtatious teasing.’

‘You’ll have to learn.’

‘I’m far too practical. If I see a thing that needs doing, I do it. I like to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied.’

‘But not with spinning. My men uncovered a number of broken whorls from the hall. Do they have a purpose?’

‘Spinning is not my best skill,’ Edith conceded with a shrug. Explaining about Hilda’s drama of this morning was beyond her. ‘I do try, but my mind wanders and the tread tangles. I prefer writing and reading.’

‘Unlike the woman who just left for the kitchen.’ His eyes flashed with barely concealed contempt. ‘I do not believe she makes a good scullery maid. Her dress is far too fine and her accent refined.’

Edith’s breath stopped in her lungs. He’d seen Hilda and her embroidered gown and guessed. Who wouldn’t? There was just something about the way Hilda moved. She attracted men like honeycomb attract the flies.

‘She was my late husband’s mistress,’ she admitted, dipping her head as her stomach clenched. Had she inadvertently delivered her cousin to another man’s bed? She felt sick. ‘Your men unnerved her. She had a traumatic time two summers ago and saw things no one, especially not a gently bred lady, should see. I thought it was for the best if she went to the kitchen and helped out there until I found something better for her.’

‘And you allow this former mistress a place here? Give her charity? Is that how you take your revenge?’ Something akin to disgust flared in his eyes, but was quickly masked.

‘Where else could she go? She is my distant kinswoman. I have a duty towards her.’ Edith pinched the bridge of her nose. The last thing she wanted to explain was how guilty and powerless she’d felt when Egbert made Hilda his mistress as if some of it was her fault. She’d promised Hilda that she’d be safe. But Egbert had seduced Hilda, promising her the moon. Before he’d left, she’d started to experience Hilda’s tantrums at being ignored and Egbert’s bad temper.