Page 22 of Haakon's Fate
“I had just told her about your mother’s passing and she didn’t think you’d appreciate having to make polite conversation with a stranger at that time,” Haakon explained, looking ill at ease to have to remind her of the loss. “I agreed it was probably best to wait.”
Oh Lord. She had really gotten it completely wrong and made a fool of herself. She could no longer pretend anyone else would have made the same mistake.
“You could have told me she was not your lover,” she mumbled, looking at her feet.
“I wanted to, at first. But then you interrupted me, sounding so sure of yourself, so ready to think me a lecher bedding all the women around that I didn’t think you would have believed me.”
Would she have doubted him? Perhaps. “So, you’re telling me that I’m completely wrong, that not all women in the village are lusting after you, and you after them?”
She had not missed the looks aimed his way last night. They had been full of desire. Haakon winced and she knew she had hit a nerve.
“Maybe not all, but some women are, as you say, lusting after me. Edita is the worst. A Saxon who came to live in the village recently. She’s my friend Eirik’s cousin and she made no mystery of the fact that she was after a Norse husband, or at the very least a Norse lover.”
“And her choice fell on you.” It was clear, however, that this didn’t please him and he was not thinking of taking advantage of her invitation.
“It had at first. But fortunately she seems to have found someone else. My friend Arne, the one you saw the night before the wedding.” Yes, she did remember the impudent Norseman, the one Steinar had called a fool and advised Eadhild to ignore. “They slept together last night, or so he told me earlier. He feared I would be jealous. In truth, I’m relieved. She’s finally going to leave me alone.”
There was nothing more to say.
Gytha nodded and led the way back to Wolf’s hut, where her father would be waiting for her. After a wonderful respite, it was time to go back to her normal life.
7
Her father was not quite ready to leave when they reached Wolf’s hut, so Gytha sat on the bench under the tree to wait for him.
Haakon gave her one last nod and started to walk away. Their discussion had stirred something inside him and he was more convinced than ever that the little Saxon was trouble, only not in the way he’d thought at first. She was trouble forhimspecifically, because somehow she seemed to be both what he had always wanted a woman to be—independent, alluring, brave, stimulating—and what he had never known existed but appeared indispensable as soon as you’d glimpsed it.
And now he was afraid that nothing less than her beguiling mixture of brazenness and innocence would do.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not look where he was going—and walked straight into Edita, who was coming in the opposite direction. They found themselves face to face, only inches away from one another.
He stepped back and maneuvered to make sure he was facing Gytha, who was still sitting on her bench. Had she noticed hismeeting with the woman he wanted to avoid? From the way she sat up in interest, it was clear that she had. It pleased him because it showed that she had been watching him. But he had to make clear who had just put herself in his path.
“Edita,” he said out loud. For good measure, as he said the name, he threw Gytha a meaningful glance above the Saxon’s head. Placed where she was she would be able to see what was happening, perhaps even hear what was said. She would understand the woman was none other than the one they had just discussed
“Haakon,” Edita crooned in her usual whiny voice. “It was a beautiful ceremony last night, don’t you think?”
“Yes.” Such an original comment… Nothing like Gytha’s unexpected questions and challenging remarks.
“This Eadhild is a lucky woman. Norse marriages are nothing like the ones I’m used to and yesterday’s ceremony made me more determined than ever to find my own Norse husband.”
“That would be your third, is that correct?”
“Yes.” She didn’t let the comment rile her. Instead she gave an unnerving little giggle. “Believe it or not, three has always been my lucky number.”
To his utter disbelief, she placed a hand over his chest and gave his pectoral a squeeze. Didn’t she care that they were in the middle of the village? That anyone, including Arne, could see them? His friend had given him the impression this morning that he intended this tryst with Edita to lead somewhere. She, on the other hand, seemed to think it had been of so little importance that she was still free to pursue whoever she wanted.
Him.
Would there be no end to his torment? From her place at the bench, Gytha arched a brow. She was evidently thinking the same thing. Either that, or she was wondering if he’d lied to her earlier, and he was in reality flattered by Edita’s attention. Thiswas the last thing he needed. In just a few weeks, the woman had made his life hell.
“I believe you may have found your future husband,” he said, willing her to remember she had slept with Arne only the night before. What was she doing, behaving so freely with him?
“I believe I may have.”
The look in her eyes made it obvious she wasn’t talking about Arne.
At a loss, he waited. Edita’s hand moved lower. As if this had been a pre-agreed signal, Gytha stood up and walked straight over to them, determination etched all over her face. Haakon almost swallowed his tongue in panic. Had she misinterpreted what was happening? Edita had been whispering. From a distance the two of them might well appear like lovers agreeing to an illicit meeting. He knew Gytha was not the shy kind. If she thought he had lied to her she would tell him in no uncertain terms, in front of Edita.
