The Viking's Defiant Bride. Joanna Fulford
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For a while they spoke of Osric and he said all that was proper, but it did not take him long to come to the real purpose of his visit.
‘Your brother’s death leaves you alone and in a most difficult situation, my lady. In these times a woman must have a protector.’
Elgiva heard in his words the echo of her brother’s and felt a frisson along her spine. Heart beating much faster, she knew what was coming and waited for it.
‘I would like to be that man.’ He paused, eyeing her with an unwonted awkwardness. ‘I am no longer in the first flush of youth, but I am still in good health and well able to protect you. I can also swear my undying loyalty and devotion.’
Elgiva felt her face grow warmer and for a moment her amber eyes were veiled. Aylwin, mistaking the reason, drew in a deep breath.
‘Let me protect you, Elgiva. I do not ask you to love me now, but perhaps in time that may come. Meanwhile, be assured that you will be loved, my lady.’
Hearing an unmistakeable note of sincerity, she looked up swiftly, meeting his gaze.
‘Does it surprise you to hear that?’
‘I had not thought…that is—’ She broke off, floundering.
‘Have you any idea how beautiful you are?’ he went on. ‘From the first day I saw you I wanted you for my wife. My Gundred has been dead these five years and a man grows lonely. I think you are lonely too. May not two such comfort each other?’
Elgiva nodded. ‘I think that perhaps they may, my lord.’
For a moment he did not move, the dark eyes intent on her face. ‘Then you will marry me?’
‘There would be certain conditions.’
‘Name them.’
‘That the rights of my nephews are protected and that you act as overlord of Ravenswood until they can act for themselves.’
‘Agreed. If you wed me, they shall be reared as my own sons.’
‘I would also ask for a decent interval of mourning for my brother.’
‘It shall be as you ask.’
‘Then on midsummer’s day I will become your wife.’ Elgiva’s voice was perfectly level as she gave him the commitment he sought.
Taking her hand, he pressed it to his lips. ‘It is an honour I scarce hoped to have.’
‘I will try to make you a good wife,’ she replied.
The proposed date was three months hence, but if Aylwin had hoped for an earlier wedding, he said nothing. Having got what he wanted he was prepared to give a little ground, knowing it would do his cause no harm.
‘Will you pledge your hand to me openly, Elgiva?’ he asked then. ‘I do not ask for a huge feast—I know it must be repugnant to you in the circumstances—but perhaps a small gathering?’
Elgiva was not surprised by the request. What it meant was a public declaration of intent. It also made clear to all concerned that Elgiva and thus Ravenswood were spoken for, that both lay under the protection of a rich and powerful lord. From the moment their betrothal was announced she was as good as his and no man would touch her. It also meant a respite, time to grow used to the idea of the bargain she had just struck.
‘It shall be as you wish, my lord.’
He smiled. ‘I am content.’
She had wondered if he would try to kiss her, but to her relief he made no further attempt to touch her. He took his leave not long after that and Elgiva watched him ride away with his men. Then she went in search of Osgifu.
The older woman listened in silence, her face impassive as she took in the news.
‘Do you think it was wrong to accept him?’ Elgiva asked at length.
‘You did what you thought you had to do, child, both for yourself and for Ravenswood.’
‘Aylwin will be a good husband and he will restore these lands to their former glory. I cannot bear to see things thus.’
‘I know.’ Osgifu hesitated. ‘But, can you be a wife to him?’
‘I must, Gifu. There is no choice now. Surely you see that?’
‘Yes.’ She put her arms round the girl’s shoulders. ‘I think you have nothing to fear. It is my view that he will be a doting and most indulgent husband.’
Elgiva nodded and tried to think positive thoughts. Neither of them mentioned the rune cast.
The betrothal feast went as planned, a small and select gathering of neighbours and friends who came together to see the couple pledge to each other. It was in every way a most suitable match and no one thought anything of the discrepancy in the ages of the pair who were soon to marry. It was widely held that Aylwin was a clever and knowing man for at a stroke he doubled his holdings and gained a most beautiful wife into the bargain. Elgiva in her blue gown, embroidered at neck and sleeve, her golden hair braided with matching ribbons, looked very fetching indeed. It was noticed that her prospective groom could hardly keep his eyes off her and was most assiduous in plying her with food and wine, carving choice cuts of meat and serving her with his own hands.
In truth, Elgiva had little appetite but did her best to hide it. Her heart was unwontedly heavy but, unwilling to disappoint her guests with a glum face, she smiled graciously and tried to look as though she were enjoying herself. As she noticed the gaze Aylwin bent upon her, the reality of the situation hit her with force—in three months’ time they would be married and he would take her to his bed. She must give herself to him whenever he wished and, eventually, she would bear his children. He had fine sons already, but, if the look in his eye was aught to judge by, he intended to sire more. Elgiva took another sip of wine to steady herself. She had wanted this, had agreed to it of her own free will. Now she must live with the consequences. If he was to be her husband she must get to know him, to learn his likes and dislikes, to discover what would please him. She had no doubt of her ability to run his household efficiently for she had been schooled in domestic duties from childhood. The rules of the bedroom were unknown territory, though familiar to him. She reminded herself sharply that it was not necessary to love for a marriage to work. As long as there was respect. Please, God, she prayed silently, let it be all right.
The feasting done and the hour growing late, the women retired, leaving the hall to the men. Elgiva knew the hard drinking was about to begin and had given orders to the servants to keep the guests plied with ale and mead as long as they wanted it. She was not sorry to make her excuses and bid her future husband a goodnight. He kissed her hand and pressed it warmly. From his flushed face and the hot glow in his eyes it was clear he had had a lot to drink, but his speech was unslurred and his balance still unimpaired.
‘Goodnight, Elgiva, and