Blind Allegiance (16 page)

He gathered the hem of her gown and pulled it over her head. Next, he untied the shoulder ribbons on her chemise and watched as the thin veil of material pooled at her feet. “Kick off your boots.”

She did.

His hands left her body only long enough to remove his own clothing and then he was on her again. Her hair hung down her back like a honey-streaked robe and he buried his face in those fragrant tresses, breathing in the intoxicating scent of spring. Her body drove him crazy. Her breasts shimmered with sweat.
Odin, give me strength to offer comfort and nothing more . . .
He wrapped his arms around her. Crushed against him, she still tried to squirm free. His laugh vibrated through their bodies.

The thrill of the chase exhilarated him more than anything. His cock stood at attention, but they would not make love this night. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she turned her eyes toward him.

“What will it take to convince you my intentions are honorable?”

She withered in his hands. What had he done now? “
Elsk meg pokker heller.
” He kissed her and carried her to the spring. Her head drooped against his chest as he waded into the water and he was suddenly reminded.
The poison . . .
He banished his temper and hugged her closer.

“Stay with me, little one. Baptize me with your sweet love.”

A week later, after Noelle had fully recovered, Katherine prepared her for a very important feast.

“Many distinguished guests will be in attendance tonight, including lords from nearby steadings, who have gathered to hear and offer oaths of allegiance to the
jarl
,” the maid
reported, while combing out her hair.

Noelle noticed a slight tremor in her own body at the mention of Randvior. She missed his company in a carnal sort of way.
How did men perfect their lovemaking skills?
She frowned as the only logical answer dawned.

Hundreds of women, maybe thousands—her toes curled with envy. She eyed the gold bracelet around her wrist apathetically, and swallowed the thought down like a bitter draught. If jealousy consumed her, she might go to him full of reckless accusations. If she wanted to win his heart and protect her family’s honor, she must set herself apart from other women. Fornication had its price and her need for a husband gave her purpose.

Randvior hadn’t discussed his womanizing past. But she knew in his masculine world, a man would never be considered complete if he didn’t bed as many women as possible. Dozens of attractive females lived and worked under the Viking’s roof. She smiled warily. But it was only
she
he pursued right now . . . was it not?

This problem required a precise solution. Noelle formulated a plan and walked to the table. She splashed water on her face and scrubbed her hands. If she wasn’t going to escape in the foreseeable future, she certainly couldn’t risk losing her position. Randvior had mistakenly told her she possessed the necessary charms to tempt a priest, which meant she could easily gain rule over him.

She dressed with only one goal in mind—capturing Randvior’s undivided attention. If he wouldn’t publicly claim her, she’d force his hand. She selected a richly embroidered gown with a plunging neckline. It was her most provocative dress, accentuating the delicate curve of her breasts perfectly. Katherine swept the sides of her hair off her face and braided it, letting the bulk of her tresses fall loosely down her back. Noelle removed the bracelet Randvior had given her and put it away.
I’ll give him something to think about.
She chose a gold choker as her only adornment. Katherine stepped back and admired her.

“If this is how a woman begs for a man’s favor,” Katherine crooned, “I’d ask for the moon and the stars, too.”

Noelle blushed and opened the door.

Aud awaited and heaved a dismal sigh the moment he saw her. He offered his arm and she accepted it.

The burly captain halted at the top stair. “I know you’ve suffered these past weeks,” he said. “Try to understand the predicament my master was in. The gods tortured him with visions of you—on more than one occasion. What can you possibly accomplish wearing that dress?” He drove home his point by eyeing her from head to toe. “Please, change your gown. Judging by that look on your face, which I’ve seen on my own daughters, you’ll regret it. Your point is sufficiently made. This is not an English court; and this is no way to test our
jarl
. I swear to report your displeasure to him.”

Surprised by his insightfulness and elegance, she smiled. Leave it to providence to place a voice of reason in the bulky body of a bloodthirsty warrior before she dared to tempt her lover.

She squeezed his hand appreciatively. “How else am I to secure my place in this house? His mother hates me, and I am neither a slave nor his betrothed. I am caught between two worlds and left to my own devices and shall use what the good Lord has seen fit to give me.” The matter was closed.

Randvior nearly choked in mid-conversation when Noelle appeared. Many rumors had circulated over the last days concerning the stranger he’d brought home from England. His intention had been to share her in small doses, this night being the first opportunity to introduce her to his extended family and neighbors. As his eyes struggled to focus on her, they blurred and cleared again. An animalistic growl escaped him as his guests followed the direction of his unblinking stare. Noelle’s pearly flesh glowed tantalizingly in the candlelight. The gown left little to a man’s imagination.

His
jaw locked. Jarl Fald Ovesen, his closest ally, patted him sympathetically on the back.

“You’ve been bitten by the most dangerous creature in the world,” the old man mused.

“Aye,” Randvior agreed. “By a heartless viper.”

The vixen had the audacity to greet him with a casual smile, then simply continue on her trajectory to the table where Brandon waited. The Scotsman stood and bowed. He kissed Noelle’s hand. Damn protocol! It demanded Randvior remain indifferent in certain situations. And since he had never formally announced his betrothal to her, although they were lovers, the law offered him no protection. She possessed all the freedoms of an unmarried woman in his court. Perhaps he should have listened to his mother and put an iron collar around her neck, instead of a gold trinket on her wrist!

He focused on the men standing with him near the high table. Black emotions paralyzed him, keeping his attention dangerously split between politics and Noelle. He couldn’t avoid the inevitable, but he could prepare for it. Whatever game the wench played would be revealed as the night progressed.

Lauga drifted into the room behind the servants, directing them where to place platters of food and drink. Randvior’s gaze followed hers, swept the room as sharply as a hawk’s, and stopped on the girl. The gown had a negative effect on her, too. She gasped in astonishment and headed for the table where Noelle sat. He smirked as indistinguishable words passed between the women. Noelle deserved a bit of harassment for wearing that bedgown. Men rarely intervened in disputes between women, but he knew Brandon couldn’t resist an opportunity to ruffle Lauga’s peacock feathers. The Scot chased her away in a huff.

Randvior gulped down a glass of wine. Noelle looked like an angel with her hair cascading down her back and her slender neck adorned with a thick circlet of gold. His mother stalked her, openly hated her. His stomach roiled. She had every reason to poison Noelle. By Odin, he needn’t look any further to find the culprit—she was under his nose the whole time. If proven guilty, he’d punish her, severely.

Guests settled at the tables. Randvior’s cousin handed him an ale horn overflowing with beer. He raised it in salutation. “Let the celebration begin!”

Chapter 12

Questions of Allegiance

“Just what is an oath of allegiance?” Noelle queried, hanging on Brandon’s every word.

“Similar to pledging fealty to a king.”

Brandon seemed eager to provide the answers she needed to understand Norse customs. “
Jarls
are considered as distinguished as princes in these lands. Admired and deeply loved because they don’t rule from lofty places, but live amongst their people. This country is without an heir, and the men you see sitting at Rand’s high table are tasked with enforcing the laws that unify the Trondelag
.
Your master is an integral part of the future of this territory . . .”

She didn’t like thinking of Randvior as her master.

Brandon continued, “And if Norway wishes to remain independent, a king will need to be anointed. There are ambitious men living beyond these borders, competing for control of our lands. A kingless territory is an attractive temptation for any man trying to leave his mark on the world.” His face darkened. “War is inevitable.”

She understood, having grown up in a country crippled by countless rebellions. If Randvior faced half the challenges her father had, she knew what to expect. And ships were the most coveted luxuries of the age. Randvior’s vessels carried merchandise from exotic lands back to his country. Taxable goods and high tariffs, if imposed, meant great wealth for any ruler. She fixed her gaze on Randvior. He was the type of man any zealous king would seek as an ally.

But no matter how influential or experienced Randvior appeared, someone needed to instruct him on how to treat a lady. She felt too hot and aware of everything about him, including his stubborn refusal to marry her. An innocent flirtation with a stranger should wake him up.

A perfectly amiable male specimen sitting three tables away gave her hope. Young and potent, he shared similar physical characteristics with Randvior. Brilliant eyes met hers. He smiled and she diverted her eyes. Then she looked back.

He patted the bench next to him. She shook her head. Brandon stared at her, then looked his direction.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Noelle fussed with the necklace about her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed, then opened to focus on a glass of wine on the table.

Brandon dismissed the boy with a flick of his wrist. “Give me credit,” he winked. “I know a thing or two about wooing the fairer sex.”

Noelle managed a pale smile. Uncomfortable with Brandon’s intrusion, she searched the room silently. Thralls were shuffling furniture. Much to her amazement, the ten soldiers Randvior commandeered from her father marched into the room and lined up along the west wall. They appeared well nourished and were dressed in clean shirts and breeches. Her cheeks flushed. She had convinced herself that Randvior intended them for hard labor. Or even worse. Again, her chest tightened with guilt.

Forgive me for doubting you
. . .

Her spirit soared as they greeted her—all smiles. Samuel and Henry were especially enthused.

Randvior stood and signaled for silence. He looked as dominant as a bull. Noelle sat forward and stared. She could see the rigid muscle all over his body through the layers of wool and leather he wore. The broadsword sheathed at his hip and war axe strapped across his back lent an appealing savagery to his appearance. He resembled a bloodthirsty god.

Brandon snorted. “Perhaps your roving eye is cured?” He cast a sidewise glance at Randvior. “He’s a man deserving respect from everyone. And I believe he desires an heir.”

Heat rose on her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. Despite her misguided attempt to make Randvior jealous, she found herself incapable of following through with it. And now Brandon was on to her.

“Ah . . .” He wagged his finger. “And what do you think he’s doing when he makes love to you lass, playing house?”

She hated the clandestine nature of their relationship. Everyone knew what was going on. Only she refused to admit it. Patience gone, she scowled at Brandon. Noelle didn’t appreciate his impertinence—
at all
. Oh, that lousy Scot had a way of getting under her skin. Fortunately, their conversation was cut short.

Randvior stared down at her. Heat jetted from his eyes. “With gratitude we offer thanks to father Odin for bringing us home again. My wealth has increased in Iceland, Scotland, and the Orkneys. We raised shelters, established trading rights, and left behind enough men to protect Sigurdsson holdings until next season. Before returning, we visited Durham . . .”

“An heir.” Brandon whispered tauntingly.

She refused to give birth to bastards!

Moments later, after the toast, the guests mingled freely. Noelle tapped into her courage again and headed for the young man she singled out in the crowd before.

Randvior snatched her arm and swung her back into her chair. He didn’t have to say a word; she read everything in his eyes.

“I want you to stay where I can see you,” he seethed. A sadistic smile curled at the corner of his mouth. “
Nothing
escapes my eyes, Noelle.”

Randvior reclaimed his throne. He couldn’t shake his combative feelings or the growing doubt in his mind. Had he treated her so unkindly that she needed to solicit her feminine charms to attract another suitor? Did she think her bad behavior would go unchecked? Or that he wouldn’t notice the newly appointed rival tripping over his own tongue to get close to her?

The hall echoed with celebration. The clamor of heavy boots stomping and weapons hitting tabletops made the floorboards quiver. The chanting began.

Randvior, Randvior, Randvior

Numerous men recounted his accomplishments. The unprecedented success of his western expeditions, his continued dedication to safeguarding trading routes and honoring treaties with rival kingdoms, and his influence amongst the Varangians benefited nearly every man in western Norway. These men gathered to renew alliances and swear oaths of protection. His home would be well defended next season.
Jarls
, both great and humble, arrived with conscripts from their personal
huskarlar
, warriors they would leave behind as testament to their loyalty.

Dozens of men came forward and kneeled at his feet. Some would accompany Randvior on his next expedition and serve in his
comitatus
as
members of his prestigious war band. His gold sword lay across his knees with hundreds of gold and silver oath rings set in the pommel. One by one, each man stood. They latched onto the hilt with one hand and grasped the oath rings with the other and swore on Odin’s countenance to protect him.