Sigurd was surprised and not a little concerned that Daphne had not actually abdicated at all. He had wondered why only she and her advisers were closeted, even to the exclusion of Miriam, who had pleaded illness. Maybe it was all to the good as he now understand it would be extremely difficult, not to say impossible, to revoke.“Why?” he dared to ask as they strolled together along the battlements.She touched the sparkling earrings he could not fail to notice, pursing her lips. If it was a lie which left them he vowed to have nothing to do with her, despite his recent and urgent inclinations.“As sick as I was, I knew God would not want me to place my burden on Miriam,” she said.He nodded to the sentry who stood smartly to attention, his heart constricting. However misguided sometimes and certainly devious, this woman had been badly misjudged.“Will you take a consort?”Daphne was in the process of stepping aside to avoid a loose stone. She froze in place, her gown slightly raised
Gifu was teaching her some Norse words when the unthinkable happened. She reached out and patted Miriam’s middle.“How long?” she asked.She blamed the tight-fitting apron dress with the belt which was her only alternative to the Vercian gown. Why was she continuing to say him nay when it came to marriage? It seemed important to him, despite availing himself of her body as and when he liked. Once, he had caught hold of her in the byre and she had remembered how to blush all over again.Fortunately, Ketil seemed none the wiser about her condition. He had teased her about gaining weight, indicating that he saw nothing to complain about in terms of her chest, though he would not want her to be rotund when they were handfasted.At this rate, any wedding dress would have to be let out and extra panels inserted, though Miriam would have liked to have sewn her own.In truth, she did not know the answer to the older woman’s question, so she shrugged and referred vaguely to Yuletide.“I help,”
The King was to pay them a visit soon. Harald Einarsson was between wives, but reputed to be bear-like, foul-mouthed and cruel. Hopefully a pregnant former Vercian royal turned slave would be beneath his notice, though not as far as a tumble was concerned. When Gifu had explained the meaning of that word, she had felt her face burn, which it seldom did around other women.She supposed that was something she had to thank Daphne for growing up, apart from her readiness to take up the mantle of queenship once more, something she had apparently never relinquished. Whether that was through scheming or a kind of generosity, she truly did not know and could not second-guess.All Miriam knew was it freed her to make the best and only choice possible if and when Ketil asked her again.“I did not know how to tell you,” she confessed, as they walked hand-in-hand along the small, sand and pebble beach. The tide was out, though not far, and the distant mountains looked icy, despite the season. Nor
Daphne had discovered the ideal bedmate in Sigurd. She could trust not only to his discretion but also that he would not take advantage of her sudden and unexpected wish to be restrained. Was that to banish her demons? He performed best in playful mood, as he was now, though she was thinking of introducing something new to the mix: role play. He could be whatever he suggested: over-eager suitor, jealous husband, would-be rapist, just so long as it was as rough as she preferred and no more.In turn she could be a shocked virgin, unfaithful wife or slut who was asking for it. She drew the line at wearing her nun’s habit. Some things were sacrosanct.They were continuing to be careful, meaning that sometimes he fucked her mouth or withdrew before spilling his seed. She liked it best when his tongue slid between her legs and she felt his manly beard on her inner thighs. Far too many of her ‘lovers’ had been foppish and prurient. He treated her like a woman and never failed to hold her clo
“When we are in bed together, I think of other men.”The confession rocked him. Sigurd stared down into those knowing hazel eyes, his lips hardening even as the burgeoning life in his manhood dwindled.“Who?” he demanded. He pounded the goose down pillow. “When?” Another punch. “Why?”“Release me, and I’ll tell all.”“How could you, Dee?”“Another question.” She tutted, sitting up and hugging her knees. There had been nothing to untie, only his body was caging her in on this occasion. At least, it had been.“Tell me,” he urged, seizing her cheeks in a grip which hurt.“Aren’t you going to punish me?” she managed, though her voice sounded strained.“I ought to,” he growled, releasing her in a way which indicated he wouldn't.She goaded him. “The Emir was an exceptional lover.” Sigurd reeled back before slapping her face, a ringing blow which hurt. “Not there,” she hissed, scrambling off the unfamiliar bed and bending over, her hands clutching her ankles.“Why tell me this now?” he dema
Men were starting to wander in and out, including an abashed-looking Toby. Ruth whisked her skirts aside and considered all the housekeeping duties which awaited. “Let’s get out of here,” Sigurd said. She felt rather wicked in those moments. This was the Queen’s lover. Her face softened. Daphne was undeniably lovely when her mood was good, with her shoulder-length fair hair and those eyes which tended to adapt to the colour of the gown she was wearing. Her mouth was too often set in a thin line and her nose was over long, but at least the latter was straight and complemented the chin she had inherited from her father in its sharpness. As a result, the former Princess Royal always dressed boldly, and little had changed in that respect now that she was Queen. Her deportment was a byword in public, unlike what Ruth had too often witnessed in private. Should she tell him, disclose the truth – or did Sigurd already know? Certainly, he would be aware of some of it. “I need to be back in
Sigurd was waiting for a woman, though not in his usual place. He had not idled there for some time. This was different in any case. Not even Orm knew what he was about.He felt like there had been an almighty shift in his feelings since his adoptive sister came back into his life and breezed out again, even if he had been the one pushing her away. His liaison with the Queen was both dangerous and exciting, though it seemed as if she were on the point of unravelling yet again.Lateness was a given, owing to the nature of her role within the castle. Maybe she would not turn up at all. It really wouldn’t matter. If even the village was off limits, they were bound to run into each other again. There really was no place to hide.Sigurd hoped his news would meet with some sort of approval. You never could tell with a female like this, outside his normal scope. If he had to liken her to anyone, it would be Miriam. Her sweetness, her sense of justice, the awkwardness around him. He was hopin
Ketil laughed out loud when Magnus told him what Miriam had taxed him about.“She thought Ruth had a crush on you, when Sigurd was around all the time?”“Your lady didn’t find it absurd.”“Anyone with eyes … No, maybe not,” he amended, not wanting to incur his uncle’s wrath after having dented his pride by labouring the point. “Sig will be offended, too.”“How so?”He chose not to answer, knowing his uncle had already worked it out.Instead, he said, “Ruth was confused about her feelings, I know that much. I’ve been meaning to ask, why didn’t one of you manage to wrest her from Daphne? That was the plan, wasn’t it?” While he already suspected what had happened, it would be good to have it confirmed. Magnus would not lie.“Her High and Mightiness would not release her. She said something about not allowing us to despoil her after all she had been through to ensure that didn’t happen. And Ruth seemed happy to remain with her.”“So, she didn’t just save Miriam? Maybe we have done her a d