A Heart of Fire (36 page)

She
stiffened considerably, aghast at the man's accusation. He'd not said
her,
but they all knew what he'd meant
with his pointed look.

"Have
you any proof that my wife had aught to do with their escape?" Valdrik
asked, taking a threatening step toward the man. His very countenance shook the
room like Thor's hammer in a darkened sky.

Ragnarr
paled under him. "Only what I saw," he said.

Valdrik
stopped and narrowed his eyes, cocked his head to the side. Briefly, his stare
flickered to her and then back to Ragnarr. Though Ragnarr did not meet his
gaze, the man did not take back his suggestion.

"After
all the time I have known you, my friend, I have not known you to tell a
falsehood," Valdrik said. "What is it you saw? And then, explain how
‘twas my wife who aided those men, for she slumbered in my arms. By my oath,
she has not left this dwelling since before evening fell."

Ragnarr
swallowed, the sound loud in the quiet hanging between them. "I saw her
pale hair, bright under the moon, as she blended into the night."

"Blended
into the night?" Valdrik thundered and thrust his hand toward Finna.
"And yet here she is. How dare you accuse her?"

"I
do not know the all of it. I was not even on watch," Ragnarr shouted in
his own defense. "I only know what I saw. I heard shouting from a thrall
that the guards had been attacked, and so I ran to them and found the captives
fleeing from our gates, and then a woman appeared between the buildings. For an
instant, she was there. Just long enough for a glimpse and then she was gone. I
tried to find her. I am sure she is the one who aided them."

"And
you are sure this woman was Finna, because of the color of this woman's
hair?" Valdrik did not sound pleased. He sounded like he might rip
Ragnarr's head from his shoulders at any given moment.

Ragnarr
glanced at Finna's hair. "'Tis the lightest hair I have ever seen. Name
another among us with hair like hers."

Valdrik
shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Enough
of this," Finna cried. "This is ridiculous, Valdrik! You know very
well I was here. ‘Twas that whore Isaguilde to blame." Finna started to
push the men aside, ready to have words of her own with the other woman, but
Valdrik stopped her.

"Nay,
you shall stay here. Finna—" He paused, pointing a finger at her "—I
told you I grow overtired of your apparent jealousy. You cannot blame Isaguilde
for everything."

She
sucked in a sharp breath, preparing herself for a battle if that was what he
wanted. One way or another, she would speak with Isaguilde over this. She
wanted the truth!

Finna
ducked under his hand and kicked his shin, and at the same time she landed her
elbow to her husband's eye.

Damn
the consequences, she told herself, even as her heart constricted for the pain
she dealt him.

Valdrik
cursed and groped blindly for her, Ragnarr doing the same, but Finna lithely
slipped from their fingers and darted to the door. She threw it open before
either of them were the wiser and raced into the cold of night.

"Finna!"
Valdrik called after her.

His
voice faded as she ran, her heart pounding and her breath labored. She ran all
the way to the longhouse and in through the open doors, between men as they
swarmed in their search of the captives.

Under
guard, her father, mother, and sister were sitting on the dais. Geera bolted
from her seat at the first sight of Finna, and the two met in the center of the
large room.

"I
haven’t much time," Finna told her, her voice shaken.

"What
is wrong?" Geera asked.

"I
have been accused of
this
, and it
won't be long before these men here are looking for me as well. No matter what
Father or Valdrik say."

"Nay!
Tell me it isn’t true. You didn’t let them go."

"Nay,"
she said, shaking her head. "Of course I didn’t. I learned something from
the captives today, about Isaguilde. I must find that conniving bitch before
she does aught else!"

"She
was asleep in the hall when we arrived, on her pallet. But when the men began
searching, they had all the thralls to gather in one of the other rooms.
 
I do not know where she is, but I have not
seen her leave. I have been watching who has come and gone."

"Keep
watching," Finna said, taking her sister's hands in her own and giving her
fingers a squeeze. "I need your help in this. We must make them see that
it is Isaguilde behind this."

Geera
gasped. "Finna," she whispered.

"Finna!"
Valdrik thundering her name drowned out any sound Geera made in warning, and
Finna whirled just as a set of heavy, rough hands closed over her shoulders.

He
growled at Finna and yanked her to him. Without another word, he began to drag
her from the room.

"Finna,"
Geera cried.

"Stay
here," she called to her sister.

Geera's
eyes shot daggers at Valdrik's back. Her fists balled at her hips, but she
nodded at Finna.

"Stieg,"
Valdrik called as they neared the door.

The
man followed them out as Valdrik led Finna back to their dwelling, one hand
clamped tightly around her arm. Finna refused to speak to him, half afraid of
Valdrik and half afraid of what she might do to him if he provoked her any
further.

Either
way, she did not want to find out.

The
agitation of being so close to finding Isaguilde mixed with anxiety and had her
wanting to claw at her skin. She wanted to kick, to scream, to plead.

"Allow
me to question her," Finna said as they reached their step and Valdrik
thrust her inside their dwelling.

He
entered behind her and shut the door.

"Stay
here," he shouted, taking her shoulders in his hands and shaking her.

Finna
slapped at his arms furiously. "Why?"

"I
told you to stay here. I told you to stay away from the captives. Had you
heeded me, no one could point a finger and say ‘twas you. Now, this time, I
hope you shall listen." He glowered at her to the point she felt tears
welling in her eyes again.

She
liked neither his censure nor his mistrust.

Valdrik
shook his head at her and turned on his heel for the door.

When
he had left, she clearly heard his orders to Stieg.

"She
is not to leave here whilst I sort this out, no matter what. Short of this
place burning down, she is not to leave this building and no one other than me
is permitted within."

Finna
shrieked her fury to the interior of the room.

****

Hours
passed. Night turned to dawn, and then morning became noon before Valdrik came
to relieve Stieg.

Weary
and tired, he entered the dwelling to find his wife taking a meal at their
table. She glanced up at him over the heel of bread in her hand as he hung his
cloak by the door and went to the fire to hold out his hands. He could feel her
eyes lingering on him.

Her
gentle steps crossed the room, and light fingers feathered over his shoulders
as her arms came around him.

They
remained like that for a moment, and he was glad. He was glad he had not
frightened her overmuch in his anger. Even though he was still upset with her,
she held his heart in her palm.

Only
she
held sway over him.

"Did
you find them?" she asked, her voice soft.

Valdrik
sighed and closed his eyes. With his next breath, he drank her in, the smell of
her, the feel of her pressed against him. He straightened then and reached to
pull her around into his lap.

When
she sat, he noted the creases on her brow, the redness around her eyes. She'd
been crying. He'd probably not hear such an admission from her, but he could
tell.

"Nay,"
he answered.

"I
could have told you that you would not find them, had you paused long enough to
listen to me."

"Could
you have?" he said quietly, brushing her hair from her cheek.

"Aldar
trains all his warriors well to cover their tracks."

"If
you can tell me such things, then tell me what I am to do? Word has spread now,
of what Ragnarr says he saw."

"Why
would he claim such a thing?" she asked desperately. "You know I did
not leave here to aid them."

Aye,
he knew. What he knew wasn’t the issue. What was being said was the issue. It
was proving those words false that was a whole new matter.

"I
am sorry. I did not go to Grahund and Bailish a'purpose the last time. I saw
Grahund's reaction to Isaguilde and … and that man." She cast her gaze
down to her lap and fidgeted with her fingers. "I should not have attacked
the guard, I know. I regretted doing so much more after I learned how Isaguilde
became Grahund's woman, but I do not understand her motives. I do not
understand why she has changed her appearance."

Valdrik
rubbed at his beard, deep in thought.

Neither
could he.

Though
he was loath to admit it, and would have sooner had Finna's mistrust in him not
upset him so, Isaguilde had not always had red hair. He had not remembered
until Finna pushed the issue.

Valdrik
cleared his throat. "Years ago, when I brought Isaguilde from Normandy,
her hair was dark as you say." He glanced up to catch Finna's reaction,
the straightening of her spine. "She began altering it soon after coming
to our lands."

Finna
scowled at him. "You admit this
now
?"

Valdrik
sighed hard. "Am I to believe she is in league with your uncle?" he
asked, raking a hand over his head in annoyance. "You promise me this is
no game you play. Your accusations against Isaguilde have nothing to do with
your jealousy?"

Her
eyes came up to his. "I promise. I will not lie. Her presence here has
upset me from the very day she arrived. 'Tis not jealousy in any case. I only
want to protect what
we
have."

Slowly,
one dark brow rose over the other, and Valdrik leaned back in his seat with a
smug gleam to his eye. "And, tell me, my shieldmaiden, what is it
we
have?"

She
cast him a look of supreme annoyance, opened and shut her mouth once, and then
turned to stare into the fire.

Valdrik
leaned upward to tilt her chin in his direction. He smiled at her. Why was it
so difficult for her to say what he wanted to hear from her so desperately?

He
rose up and kissed her then, softly at first, and then harder, crushing her
lips under his.

He
forced himself away and then pushed her from his lap. "I must go to your
father to tell him that we did not find the men." He ran his hands through
her hair to the back of her head, grasping her loose tresses and giving it a
slight tug. "I shall return soon. You may await me in bed."

Finna
started to scoff, but choked on a giggle instead as she started away toward the
table—not the bed.

As
he started for his cloak, he caught a glimpse of his wife fumbling with her
platter. He laughed quietly to himself. Did he truly distract this strong woman
so much?

"I
meant what I said," he called over his shoulder as he left and started for
the hall.

Chapter
Thirty-One

As
Valdrik left his Jarl's room, he pulled the door closed and started for the
stairs. Hadarr had not been pleased in the least to learn that the captives had
escaped, mostly for the threat they could pose, but more so at the accusations
leveled at his daughter.

At
the moment, Valdrik did not want to think of those men or the claims against
Finna or anything except his wife awaiting him as he had bade her.

He
jolted as a hand clasped against his arm, and he turned quickly to meet a
pretty face.

And
then, he realized the hand and face belonged to Isaguilde.

"What
are you doing here?" he asked, pulling from her reach.

"Valdrik,"
she said, lightly and smoothly, his name like warm honey dripping off her
tongue. "Do not take such a harsh tone with me." She began to circle
him, trailing the tip of her finger over his shoulder, around his back, and to
the opposite shoulder before she dropped her hand down his chest.

Immediately,
he swatted her hand away, and she chuckled throatily. Her stare focused on his,
and she grinned impishly. "Mayhap I wanted to see you," she said, and
leaned in a minute bit closer. "Without the threat of your wife
present," she whispered, coming ever closer and ran her hands up his
chest, but Valdrik backed away and tossed her hands to the side again.

"Stop
that," he commanded.

"Why?"
she asked, glancing down his body, pulling her lower lip between her teeth as
she settled her stare on the area of his cock.