Page 81 of The Thornwyck Rose
“Lord Henry will ensure their safety,” he said in a deep, low voice, cutting her off.
She sucked in a breath, and she blinked back any tears.
“Lord Henry?” she whispered. The panic faded from her eyes as if she realized the implication behind his words. “Ofcourse, Lord Henry would allow no one to harm his heir,” she said through guttered breaths.
Her hands relaxed against his neck. She knew it was a test. She had to.
Her face was too close. His eyes dipped to her lips. He had longed to kiss her since he’d called her Valkyrie. How to make sure he didn’t, that she didn’t let him? He pulled her wrists closer to his neck so that her fingers grazed the skin of his cheek. He wished he could feel the warmth of her skin without the barrier of gloves.
Her chest pumped, pushing air through parted lips.
He leaned in, going slow, to make sure she had every chance to push him away. Her gaze dipped to his lips before returning to meet his eyes. She had to know what was coming, but she said nothing.
Just as he was able to whisper so no one else could hear, he opened his mouth to whisper her name in warning.
But instead, she whispered, “Ragnar?”
His brow furrowed. More than ever, he wanted Seren as his own wife. Such a woman as she was, concerned about children not her own, and warning her friend before he made a decision that could cost the life of his son.
Rather than pull back, he whispered her name, “Seren.” He gave a slight shake of his head and continued in his descent to kiss her. They locked eyes. She was afraid. She didn’t know what to do. Frozen. Maybe she wanted him to kiss her.
So he whispered again—adjusting his tone, “Seren.”
Her whisper was hot on his lips. “Let me go.”
She blinked rapidly as if released from a trance.
“Let me go,” she said louder.
Her wrists slipped through his hand. Her fingers slid through his palm. She stepped back, two giant steps. Her bottom lip trembled. Her eyes glistened with tears shed or about to be shed.
Was she going to let him kiss her? Had she wanted him to kiss her? Was she simply in shock from the attack? Thrown from her senses?
He shifted on his feet. Lord Henry told him to beg forgiveness, but he couldn’t force the words from his throat because selfishly, he wanted to feel Seren’s lips against his. He wanted to wrap her in his arms again. And if he had known for sure that the scout was only listening, he might have done so. She might have let him.
“Commander de Montfort,” Seren said, her voice breaking. “I told you not to wish for a life not yours.” Her voice firmed, but tears streamed down her cheeks. “Were you leaning in to whisper something or to kiss me? I hope it was the former. I do not wish to see Ragnar murdered.”
Erik smiled in bitter relief. The woman was so cunning and clever. He finally forced a clogged voice from his lips. “It was the former, Lady de Thornwyck.”
“Good,” she said. Her chest pumped. She remembered her meek voice. “For if it was the latter, I made a vow . . . to God . . . to be a faithful wife. “
“Yes, Lady de Thornwyck,” he said. “As you are.”
“And if Lord Henry found you even wanted to kiss me, he’d make Ragnar suffer for it. You’d do well to remember that.”
“Yes, milady. I will.”
“And if he killed Ragnar, he’d have to kill you too, for he’d have lost his leverage over you. Without his blade and his shadow,” she stammered through quick words, “the northern border would only half fear Lord Henry’s reign. They could overrun the border, and you’d have doomed us all.”
He nodded, knowing the intention behind her statements—to save his son.
“Mortlande and I are grateful for you, Lady de Thornwyck.”
Her breath shook. Her lips trembled. “So then, Commander, what did you wish to whisper to me?” she said, her hands clasped with knuckles white by her belly.
“Only that . . .” His mind blanked as he took her in, remembering why she was upset with him in the first place. “The children will be safe. They are with good men.”
“Good,” she said again with a firmer voice. “Thank you for soothing my panic regarding Lord Henry’s children.”
