Taming His Viking Woman. Michelle Styles
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This marriage would take place now while he could bind the loyalty of those she commanded to him. She would learn her place in his household. He had no need of women warriors—what he required was a wife.
‘The cooks had best get busy. Another feast is required.’ He gave a triumphant smile which took in all the onlookers. ‘The marriage takes place today!’
The crowd broke out in loud cheers.
All colour drained from her face. ‘Today? Impossible. A wedding requires arrangements. The proper alignment of the stars, the reading of portents and your father’s sword...’
He slowly lowered their arms before letting her go. She staggered back a step. ‘Nothing is impossible to a determined man. And my determination has never been in doubt.’
‘Why the speed?’ She licked her lips and her eyes darted about the arena. She gave every impression of a cornered animal searching for the nearest bolthole.
‘I would not put it past you to decide to go on a long voyage which you claim is vital for everyone in the village or, worse, disappear into the world, dressed as a man.’ He forced his mouth to smile as he cupped her cheek.
Her entire being bristled with anger and she turned her face away. ‘Having just returned from a long voyage, I wanted some months at home.’
‘These words are supposed to act as your guarantee?’ He inclined his head. ‘Forgive me if I require more.’
‘Snaking out your foot to trip me was unworthy.’ Her mouth turned mulish, but he could see the latent hint of passion in it.
‘There was nothing in the rules, my lady, against tripping. I saw an opportunity and took it.’
‘The only reason you challenged me was to prove a point. You are the better warrior than I am. Well, you’ve proved that. You can have the land you require.’
Hrolf watched her mouth. The exertion of the fight had turned it strawberry ripe and her tunic now clung to her body. His fingers itched to unwrap her. But he refused to give any woman power over him. He’d seen what gibbering wrecks men could become. When he discovered his father’s frozen body on his mother’s grave, Hrolf had vowed never to allow a woman to touch his heart, a sentiment that his uncle had encouraged.
‘Why do you attempt to put words in my mouth?’ he asked in a cold tone. ‘I know what we bargained for. I always claim what is mine by right and I do it in my fashion.’
Her eyes became a blue flame and she pulled her shoulders back. ‘My honour is without question. Do not suggest I would dishonour my oaths again.’
‘Sayrid, I marry a woman, not a man. Find a dress.’
Sayrid stared at him uncomprehending. ‘A dress?’
‘You do own a dress...don’t you?’
Sayrid released a breath and offered a prayer up to all goddesses in the Aesir and Vanir. At last, a way to postpone the evil day with dignity. Hrolf wanted to marry a properly dressed bride. His request made sense given the finery he wore. She could use it, buy time and find a solution to the mess. Somehow she’d discover what he truly wanted before she started believing that he wanted her. It wasn’t over until the ceremony was done.
‘My best dress is at home. What a pity. We will have to name another day when I can be attired in the sort of clothes fit for a sea king’s bride.’
‘Borrow one.’ A glint showed in his eye as he raked her form. ‘Or come naked. But I marry a woman. Today.’
Renewed anger flooded through her. Why in the name of Freya did he want to marry her? And why did it have to be today?
‘Every other woman is smaller than me by at least a full head.’
His smile became positively merciless. ‘That is not my problem. You do as I command.’
She stood toe to toe with him. ‘Or what?’
‘Or I will have you and anyone who helps declared outlaw and all their lands forfeit as well as yours.’ He bowed low. ‘Your choice, Sayrid Avildottar. Time to decide. Do you actually care about your family and the people who work the land? Or do you just care about yourself?’
‘How could he do this? Wasn’t it enough to win and take my land? Why does he have to humiliate me further?’
Sayrid stomped around the narrow hut where she had retired after Hrolf had delivered his ultimatum. Regin had attempted to console her, telling her to look for the positives but she had growled at him. She wanted to wallow, instead of being falsely cheerful or coming up with impossible plans of escape. Regin beat a hasty retreat.
‘Come dressed as a woman or naked,’ she said, swinging her arms back and forth. ‘Marry today or forfeit everything you hold most dear in this life. He is a sea king through and through, completely full of treachery.’
‘Can you blame him?’ her sister asked with a laugh. ‘You’ve escaped from tighter situations before. Or were they simply stories for after supper?’
‘It wasn’t an empty threat, Auda. Hrolf Eymundsson would have taken great pleasure in stripping all my clothing from me in front of everyone.’
‘Then your clothing had better be disposed of, in case you get ideas,’ Blodvin said.
‘And what do you propose I wear? This?’ Sayrid gestured to the apron dress she now wore. Blodvin’s dress would have been too small on a normal-sized woman but on Sayrid it barely reached her calves.
‘It is one of my favourites,’ Blodvin protested.
‘It is just as well Blodvin brought another dress in case her first choice clashed with the tapestry at the feast,’ Auda said in placating tone.
‘I can barely breathe, even with the bodice being let out. And yellow makes me look sallow. My stepmother always said that and it is the absolute truth.’
‘Hold still, sister, while we fix your hair. You might not have a crown, but Blodvin found some flowers.’ Auda held up a mixture of yellow and white daisies. ‘They will go well in your hair.’
‘Going bareheaded is as bad as going naked,’ Blodvin argued. ‘Have some pride in your appearance.’
Sayrid clenched her fists and longed to hit something. Very hard.
Auda’s eyes welled up. ‘Please, be good and do this for me. I have longed to see my big sister as a bride. The wedding will be wonderful and Hrolf is a very lucky man to have won you as a bride. But people will think it odd if you fail to wear a crown. The flowers are the best I can do.’
Sayrid stared up at the ceiling. Refusing either of her siblings was impossible. She had to do this for the honour of their house. ‘Oh, very well. I don’t want you upset,