Paying the Viking's Price. Michelle StylesЧитать онлайн книгу.
her up and down. ‘Do you have the womanly skills, cousin? You would be happier amongst the vellum and ink or out riding and looking at how the crops are doing. What do you know of the art of love? What will happen when this Norseman discovers you prefer learning to the arts of love?’
‘You forget yourself, cousin.’ Edith slammed her fists together. ‘You’re a guest here and asked for my protection, protection which I have sought to give. Always. Your behaviour here was your own affair and I’ve never questioned it.’
Hilda flushed scarlet and dropped her gaze. ‘Forgive me, Edith, for speaking plainly, but you must not hold on to false hope that you will be able to hold on to this place for the long term. Did you have another choice? Something that might save us both?’
Edith clenched her fists. She didn’t want to think about the night or what would happen when Brand discovered all of her inadequacies. She had to hope that he had another purpose in mind when he made her his concubine. Or that if Hilda had been there, she might have been the one he chose. ‘I will face that when I have to. These Norsemen may have different expectations.’
‘I hope for all of our sakes that they do.’ Hilda put her hand on Edith’s sleeve. ‘I really do, cousin. I just hope this one is worth it. That’s all. For once I don’t envy you.’
‘Thank you. It will be.’ Edith bowed her head and concentrated on the keys. It had to be. The alternative wasn’t worth contemplating.
‘Where do you expect me to be during this proposed feast?’ Hilda put a hand to her head. ‘You know how those Norsemen unnerve me. My mind goes all to pieces, but I want to play my part. Give me a job and I will do it, something out of the way. Just for a few days, until I know what they are on about and whether I need to find somewhere else to live.’
‘You may stay in the kitchen if the Norsemen upset you that much.’ Edith thought quickly. She agreed with Hilda that having her in the main hall would not do at all. Edith wanted to be able to concentrate on her role rather than wondering what Hilda might do next. ‘The cook can always do with another scullery maid. I doubt they will give you any bother there, so long as you don’t mind getting your hands dirty. I will have a word with him.’
Hilda’s cheeks reddened. ‘Thank you, cousin. I do appreciate your kindness. The kitchen it shall be. Should you need any advice...about...you know...I am happy to give it.’
‘It is kind of you to offer and I will remember it, should it come to it.’ Edith silently vowed that Hilda would be the last person she’d ask to tutor her in the arts of love. The humiliation would be far too great.
Hilda hurried off, her narrow hips swaying and her skirts swishing to give a glimpse of her ankles. Even the way she moved emphasised her sensuality and highlighted Edith’s own awkwardness.
Edith raised her fist. ‘I will do it. I will succeed. Or die in the attempt.’
Chapter Three
‘What are you contemplating, Lady Edith? You appear lost in your thoughts.’
Brand’s rich voice caused Edith to jump. He stood far too close to where she rested in the alcove. Where had he come from? And how much had he overheard? For a large man, he moved silently. She bit her lip. She’d have to remember that. Egbert had always announced his presence with heavy walking and a litany of complaints.
‘I was resting.’ Edith forced her hands to stay calmly in her lap, rather than gesturing wildly. Hilda’s story about Brand’s mother trying to kill him had to be a wild fantasy. No one surely could be that wicked. ‘The day has been traumatic for me. My entire life has been altered and it isn’t even midday. It has given me something to contemplate.’
‘You regret your decision now that you have had time to consider your position? You wish to leave for the nunnery, but worry about summoning the courage to inform me?’
The sun made it impossible for her to see his eyes. All she knew was that he wanted her to give up and admit defeat. That wasn’t going to happen. Retreating would be a defeat, not only for her but for everyone she cared about. Despite what Hilda thought, she could be a concubine even to a man like Brand Bjornson.
‘Not in the slightest.’ Edith tilted her chin upwards and met his penetrating blue gaze full on. ‘Were you searching for me? Has something happened?’
His dark blond hair fell in disarray about his shoulders and he’d shed his axe and overtunic, but that only emphasised the way his shirt clung to his chest. She was more aware than ever of the power in his shoulders. He was most definitely not a man to cross lightly. ‘Nothing unexpected.’
The strange warm tingling feeling invaded her body. This was the man she would have to play the concubine with, if she could. Her heart sank. Hilda was right. What had she been thinking of? The enormity of the task crashed into her. She should have taken the easy route out and saved her own skin. What if she didn’t please him? What would happen to everyone then?
‘It is good to know.’
He tilted his head to one side. ‘Did you think something would be wrong?’
‘Why should there be?’ She hurriedly smoothed her skirts and her hand touched the circlet of keys that she always wore. The tiny action gave her courage. She was doing it for her home. The keys were a comfort. She had them and it meant certain things were safe and hidden.
‘You are very quick with your answer.’ He regarded her with speculative eyes.
‘How long have you been standing there?’ she asked with a faint breathless catch in her voice, swallowed hard and tried again. This time her voice sounded firmer. ‘Is there something you require?’
‘Long enough.’
Edith rubbed the back of her neck. He’d overheard her conversation with Hilda, but she had to hope it was only the tail end. ‘It’s been a tiring day and your men will need to be fed. I have to make sure the servants understand the new situation. I wish to keep the incidents to a minimum.’
‘It is kind of you to be concerned, but my concubine doesn’t give the orders to any member of the household. She exists only to please me.’
Edith pursed her lips together—a subtle way of saying she lacked power. ‘I’d considered ordering a feast was pleasing to the master.’
She hated how the word stuck in her throat and how the sound of it brought home the precariousness of her position. She was little better than a shackled slave.
He raised his eyebrow. ‘It is good that you so readily acknowledge who I am. I had wondered if you would have to learn a hard lesson.’
‘I’ve never been a concubine before.’
A ghost of a smile flickered in the corner of his mouth. ‘I’d never have guessed, my lady.’
‘Spare the laughter and jest. I fail to find the joke amusing.’
‘Perish the thought.’ He inclined his head, but the twinkle in his eye deepened, turning his irises to the colour of the sky after weeks of grey cloud. A blue so vivid it hurt to look at it. ‘Maybe a little, but I enjoy teasing my women. But I remain serious about our bargain. I want you, Edith of Breckon, in my bed.’
Edith concentrated on a spot just above his shoulder, rather than gazing into his eyes. His woman. One of many? She could well imagine the sort of women they were. She had experienced Egbert’s parade and found positions and marriages for them after Egbert discarded them, so they wouldn’t suffer humiliation.
‘You should know that I am not very good at being a decorative object.’ She allowed her mouth to turn upwards. ‘I’ve never seen the point of flirtatious teasing.’
‘You’ll have to learn.’
‘I’m far too practical. If I see a thing that needs doing, I do it. I like to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied.’
‘But