Gorm couldn’t stop grinning.
If it didn’t stop snowing soon, Vagn was going to attach ice skates to Clod’s hooves and find a way to escape Briarstead.
But first…
* * *
Chapter Nine
« ^ »
Lady with a mind of her own
“The stables? Why are you taking me to the stables?” Esme asked Toste as he dragged her the short distance from the keep, slamming the barn door behind him. It was bitterly cold outside but warm in the barn from the heat of fifty or so horses.
He did not answer her at first, just scowled and continued to pull her along beside him down the center aisle between two long rows of horse stalls. The Viking was driving her half barmy with his changes of mood.
But, really, she was changing moods by the minute as well. In one instant she was kneeling-down thankful for his help getting her out of St. Anne’s Abbey and into a safe haven. Although I will never in this lifetime forgive him for his manner of rescue. The next time my teeth are that close to a man’s most precious part, he is going to find half of it gone. Yeech! What a picture!
In the next instant she was brain-boiling mad at his teasing antics and overbearing male arrogance. Why do men always think they know what is best for women? And if this lout thinks he can wink and grin at me and I will do his every bidding, well, he needs to have his brain rearranged… with a mallet. Although he does have a nice wink and grin.
Then, in a third instant she felt overpowering sympathy for him that he had lost a brother he loved so much. I have never loved another person so much in all my life and certainly never had such affection thrown my way. I envy him this love. I really do.
In a fourth and most alarming instant, she found herself being attracted to the knave. His person was exquisite, from his endearing cleft chin to his well-muscled form. But it was more than that.
Will I ever forget that kiss in the convent hallway?
Will there ever be a repeat?
I should not care.
But I do care.
Esme was a strong person, much stronger than people gave her credit for. When she wanted something as much as she wanted her home at Evergreen, she would stop at nothing—nothing—to attain that goal. Hadn’t she spent eleven years in a nunnery to prove that point? Hadn’t she fought off her father’s marriage and death threats? But it was time to go on the offensive, and if it meant stomping over a roguish Viking to get what she wanted, then so be it. Toste might think he could force her to his will, but he was sorely mistaken. Sad to say, she could be as ruthless as her father if pushed to the wall.
“The stables are the only place where a person can get any privacy here,” Toste finally responded in a grumbling tone, still dragging her along. “There are people everywhere at Ravenshire, mostly busybodies who have naught better to do than interfere in other people’s affairs.”
“They do it out of affection,” she argued.
“Hah! You have no idea how Alinor and Eadyth meddled in the life of our friend Rurik till he settled down with Maire in the Scottish highlands. He should have left her hanging in a cage from her ramparts, if you ask me.”
“A… a cage?” she sputtered. That was one of the few things her father hadn’t tried with her, probably because he’d hadn’t heard of such.
“Once, Alinor even pretended to grow a tail to scare Rurik into believing she was a witch.”
Esme would have loved to see that.
“Eirik and Tykir are just as bad. Especially Tykir. A more jestsome man there never was! Ask Tykir sometime how he kidnapped Alinor because she put a curse on King Anlafs male staff, causing it to make a right turn.”
Esme’s eyes went wide. Then she fought back a smile. She would have liked to see that, too. She was beginning to realize how stale and boring her life had been thus far. By necessity, of course. Still… “I like them… all of your friends.”