Cherish? Ruby’s heart warmed suddenly toward her Viking “husband.” Perhaps she’d misjudged him.
Thork continued brusquely, “Much trouble have Olaf and I gone to in the past ten years to create an image that one word from you could ruin.”
“Why? Why must people think they aren’t your sons?”
” ‘Tis not for you to know,” Thork replied stubbornly.
“Really! I think you’re being overly dramatic.”
“Dramatic, am I?” Thork leaned his handsome face close to her, almost nose to nose, and jabbed her pointedly in the chest for emphasis. “My enemies murdered Eirik’s mother, Thea, shortly after his birth. He only escaped death himself because an old midwife in attendance switched babes. The poor bonder’s son was not so fortunate.”
“I thought Eirik’s mother died in childbirth,” Ruby gasped.
Thork dismissed that explanation as nonsense with a wave of his hand. ” ‘Tis the story we passed about.”
“I don’t understand any of this. Why can’t you live as a family with your sons?”
” ‘Tis not for you to understand. Just stop your bloody interfering.” He held her eyes stonily until he was sure he’d made himself clear.
Finally, Ruby’s confused mind accepted all that Thork had told her. “I want to help.”
“Naught do we need of you except silence. Think you that is a possibility?”
Affronted, Ruby stated, “I would never do anything to hurt those boys.” Nor you, for that matter, not that you deserve it. “They remind me of my own sons. Eirik and Tykir probably satisfy some maternal need in me.”
“Satisfy your needs elsewhere, wench,” Thork ordered flatly. Then he stepped away and sat down, directing puzzled blue eyes at her. “When first we met, you said your husband left you. Why? Did he take your sons with him?”
Ruby sat down, as well. “No, he would never take Eddie and David away from me.” How could she explain the complicated mess their marriage had become? She couldn’t. Not in a few words. And so she didn’t try. Instead, she tried to change the subject by teasing, “Perhaps I was too much for him,” and jiggled, her eyebrows provocatively.
Thork leaned back in Olaf’s comfortable chair and smiled languorously. “If you kissed him the way you did me, I doubt you not. Do not think I have forgotten that kiss of yours. You have a knack for turning a man’s bones to honey.”
A compliment from Thork? That was a first. Ruby felt an annoying blush spread across her cheeks and down her neck. That’s probably why he said it, just to fluster her.
“Unlike your husband, though,” Thork went on, “I doubt you would be too much for me. Well-matched I suspect we would be.” An infuriating smile of supreme self-confidence spread across his face, and his blue eyes glittered with amusement.
“Your arrogance knows no bounds,” Ruby sputtered, rising from Gyda’s chair to exit the room before she embarrassed herself by hopping into his arms, as she wanted to do. To her chagrin, he pinched her behind as she turned her back on him.
“Will you stop doing that?” she snapped, rubbing her bottom.
“Just checking to see if it still fit in the palm of my hand,” Thork replied in mock innocence.
Ruby glared at him.
“It does.” Laughing, he left the room before she could say more, but he did get in a final jab. “I wonder if other body parts fit as well.”
* * *
Thork stayed for the evening meal, at which Gyda regaled the family with an account of the afternoon’s activities in Byrnhil’s boudoir. They howled with laughtdr, even the children, when Gyda described a stark-naked Byrnhil demanding that Ruby make her a set of flame-red underwear.
“Seems likely Sigtrygg will be in a good mood tonight,” Olaf said dryly. Then, tongue-in-cheek, he teased, “Methinks my Gyda might look good in one of those outfits, too.”
Gyda lifted her chin defiantly and told him, “We have already made plans to do just that.”
Olaf’s mouth dropped open in surprise, then he laughed heartily. “For me, you would do that, Gyda? ‘Tis not necessary. I like you well enough in the raiment your God gave you.”