The Warrior's Runaway Wife

Elrik rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease the still-growing tension, then reached inside his mantle for the coins King David had given him. Without counting them, he tossed the sack on the bed. ‘That will more than cover the roof over your head and food.’ He pushed her forward. ‘Now go.’

‘No. Wait.’

‘Wait?’

She rushed to a small table in the far corner of the room, picked up a small pouch and slipped the ribbon dangling from it over her head. After tucking the pouch inside the neck of her gown, she came back to him.

‘Anything else?’

‘No.’

He waved towards the door. ‘Then go.’

‘You are just going to walk out of here with me?’

‘That is the plan, yes.’

‘And you don’t expect anyone to question or stop you from doing so?’

He would like to see them try such an act, it might provide him with an opportunity to release some of the tightness burning along the muscles of his neck and shoulders. ‘Why would anyone do so? Do you belong to anyone here?’

‘No.’

‘Have you entered into some sort of dubious agreement with anyone?’

‘No.’

‘Then I do not see what reason they would have to stop me.’

‘They don’t know you.’

Elrik blinked. ‘They obviously don’t know you either.’

‘I have been here over a week. They know me.’

If that were true, she would not now be in this position. It was doubtful that she would still be under this roof. ‘Oh, so you told them you were Lord Brandr’s daughter and that you’d run away from a marriage arranged by your great-grandfather King Óláfr?’

She hesitated. ‘No.’

‘Would you like to tell them? We can go below and once I get everyone’s attention you can then make your announcement. Of course, I won’t be responsible for any who decide to take you captive and hold you for ransom—or think to return you to your father for some sort of reward—or worse, marry you himself with the assumption that there will be something worthwhile to gain.’

She shot him a look that threatened to skewer him on the spot before opening the door and marching stiffly out into the corridor.

Chapter Two (#uc936ff74-d9ab-5e9f-81da-b8ae495dc9e5)

Avelyn fisted her hands at her side. The last few days she’d started to believe that she’d managed to escape her fate and would not be found.

Instead, once again she learned the uselessness of fanciful hopes, wishes and luck.

How had this oaf found her? She’d expected her father to send men after her, but she’d thought they would be his men, someone she knew or someone who was at least familiar.

Apparently, her father had gone to King David for assistance instead of to his grandfather, King Óláfr, or even to his uncle and liege, Lord Somerled.

Why?

Perhaps he didn’t want them to learn that she’d run away rather than wed the man they’d chosen as her husband.

And now this...this stranger thought he was going to take her to King David like an errant child? She frowned as yet another hopeful thought drifted into her mind. Was it possible that her father had dragged the Scots King into this because he’d had a change of heart and had found the ancient warlord chosen as her husband to be unsuitable?

It was doubtful, but she clung to that thought as it would be the only slender thread of sanity available to her. However, her fanciful wishes did little to explain the identity of this man.

From what she could tell, he was strongly built—the long, fur-lined mantle covered him from shoulder to ankle, so she couldn’t see the shape of his body—but he’d easily lifted her over his shoulder with one arm. Yet, at the same time, his attempt to dress her hadn’t been overly harsh, fumbling perhaps, as if unused to the task, but not cruel.

And his touch, when it had rested on her knees as he’d tried to reason with her, had been warm. Had she not been distraught over being found she could have easily fallen into the comfort that warmth had conveyed.

His eyes were green, flecked with gold. His hair was nearly as black as hers, but his was shot through with silvery strands that made it impossible to know his age.

But he wasn’t old. Older than she was, but not ancient like the man she’d been betrothed to wed.

‘Who are you?’ she asked over her shoulder.

He did nothing but grunt and poke a finger into her back to prod her along the corridor towards the stairs.

Just as they reached the top of the stairs they met an old man. She could only assume this was Edward, the old man Hannah had coerced her into sharing a bed with. He was most likely headed to her room. Avelyn wondered how her unwanted rescuer would deal with this event.

Edward looked from her to the man behind her, a frown of puzzlement creasing his already lined face. ‘This is not the red-haired wench.’

‘No. It isn’t.’

‘This is my woman. I paid for her.’

‘How much?’

‘What does the amount matter to you?’ Edward reached for her, adding, ‘I paid. She is mine.’

‘It matters greatly to me because she is my wife.’ The man looped an arm about her waist and pulled her close. ‘And because we have three hungry children at home who would be grateful for the coin their mother could deliver.’

Wife? Home? Three hungry children?

Struck mute by his outrageous lies, Avelyn could only stare blindly ahead. She wasn’t completely lacking in wits. He had spouted the lies in an attempt to leave the inn without incident. She wished he’d have devised something less demeaning to her.

‘If the amount is right, I might be willing to allow her to go with you. Provided, of course, that I stand guard over the two of you to ensure no harm comes to the mother of my children.’

Avelyn narrowed her eyes, then turned her head to glare up at him. She didn’t know him well enough to decipher the quick look he gave her, but she was fairly certain it had been a silent warning to keep quiet—a warning she planned to ignore.

She jutted an elbow into his gut and turned her attention to Edward. ‘That is not the reason he wishes to watch.’

Her rescuer’s fingers tightened against her waist, but she forged ahead, determined to make him feel as foolish and embarrassed as he’d made her feel. ‘Oh, no, his rutting leaves behind nothing memorable except children and he wishes to see if he can learn anything.’