Page 16 of Haakon's Fate
How was it possible that he still stood out, when surrounded by so many attractive men? As if he had heard her earlier musings, he had put on a leather tunic, which drew attention to his powerful physique, and his beard did appear to have been trimmed, which emphasized the masculine line of his jaw.
By her side, her father was doing his best not to betray his own emotion. He would be thinking of the moment he had married her mother all those years ago. Deciding he deserved her attention more than a Norseman who didn’t even know she was looking at him, Gytha took his hand in hers. He squeezed it gratefully.
After one last declaration, the ceremony was over and people started to make their way to the center of the village, where the banquet tables had been prepared.
“Will you excuse me a moment?” her father asked her. “I need a word with Wolf.”
“Of course.”
Just as he was leaving, a blonde woman smiled at her. Gytha automatically smiled back, before she recognized her. She was the one who had been in Haakon’s hut the other day. His lover. Damnation, she should have pretended she hadn’t seen her.
Well, too late. The woman was already heading toward her.
“Good day, you must be Gytha?”
Gytha nodded, wishing herself a hundred miles away. What could possibly have possessed the woman to come see her? “I’m Rowena. I’m sorry for not introducing myself the other day but I thought under the circumstances, you know, I had better not.”
“Yes.”
An introduction would indeed have been awkward. What could the woman have said?I’m Rowena. I’ve just come from Haakon’s bed. Are you next? Enjoy his attentions, I know I did.
“It was a lovely ceremony. Your friend and Halfdan are evidently made for one another. That is always good to see.”
“It is.”
Gytha stopped at this bland answer, having no idea what else to say. Evidently she was the only one ill at ease. Rowena didn’t seem to think this conversation was odd. Or perhaps she was so convinced the little Saxon posed no threat that she didn’t think of being jealous. Yes, perhaps.
The idea was hardly flattering.
Fortunately, at that moment, someone called for Rowena. Gytha recognized the handsome man waving from the crowd as one of the blacksmith’s sons from the night before.
“Ah, Thorfinn,” the woman said, a radiant smile blooming on her face. That smile made it clear the two of them were intimate. Was the woman determined to bed all the good-looking men in the village? If she was, she would be busy in the months to come. The place was crawling with them. “I was wondering where he’d gone. If you’ll excuse me? Perhaps we’ll talk later?”
“Of course.”
Not if I can help it.
Gytha stared when Rowena went to Thorfinn and gave him a fiery kiss. Then she couldn’t help throw a glance around to see if Haakon had seen it. Would he be jealous? Or had he found himself a new lover as well? And what was it to her if he had? He could do what he wanted.
“Come,” Freyja called from somewhere behind her. “I’ve saved you a place next to me and Eirik.”
It wasobvious from the expression on her face that the food being served was markedly different from what Gytha was used to. Haakon realized when the thought crossed his mind that, to be able to reach that conclusion, he had to have observed her for a while. Which he had.
At the start of the banquet, he had made sure to place himself where he had a clear view of her. Since then he had barely detached his gaze from her, watching as she licked her fingers, wiped her mouth, laughed and drank. Freyja and Eirik were on one side of her and his uncle Björn on the other.
It reminded him of a banquet years ago, when his sister, Rowena, had gotten married to Thorfinn. That night, inevitably, he had been trying to seduce a Saxon, Cwenthryth, who had paid him no heed and was now married to Steinar.
“Are you going to force the woman to have another bite to eat? Do your best to convince her she wants to open her mouth for you? Promise that she will like it?” a voice purred from behind, shattering through his thoughts. “Isn’t that your preferred method for wooing Saxons?”
“What are you talking about?”
Steinar, who had leaned in to talk in his ear, arched a brow, the picture of disbelief, and nodded at Gytha, who had just stood up. Everyone was getting ready to go dancing, which was presumably why his friend had thought it a good time to come see him.
“Do you think I’m blind? You’ve been staring at Elstan’s daughter all night. I’m sure you know how many slices of ham she ate.”
Two and a half. Not that he had been counting. He’d only seen, because…well, because he’d been watching her. Hell, had he been that obvious? Apparently.
“Are you ever going to let me forget what I said to Cwenthryth that night?” he grumbled, standing up in turn and making for the table where the mead was.
