He had never known a more affectionate woman, and he planned to enjoy her favors endlessly, but the lazy warmth that enveloped them turned his thoughts to such sweet ones he was content to do no more than hold her in his arms while he kissed her flushed cheeks lightly. He liked the long sweep of her lashes as she looked up at him, for the dark fringe made her glance all the more inviting, but as he watched her expression the clear green of her eyes darkened noticeably, as if the most disturbing of thoughts had crossed her mind. He drew back, startled that she did not share his euphoric mood.
“What troubles you, my pet, there is still time to hunt, we’ve not wasted the entire day.” Not yet at least, but he now counted no time he spent in her company wasted.
Perhaps it was the gentle nature of his embrace, or the keen interest in his gaze, or merely the freshness of the spring day that overcame her usual reserve, but she responded truthfully with a growing worry. “If I were to have your son, would you set him free?”
Astonished by that totally unexpected query, Mylan grabbed her more securely, nearly shaking her as he asked, “What are you telling me, Celiese? Is this child a reality, or no more than a suspicion?”
Suspicion was scarcely the word, for she was terrified she might already have become pregnant and wanted to know exactly what sort of life her child would have to face. “I am only asking the question because it is so strong a possibility, not because it has already happened.”
Relieved, he relaxed his hold upon her slightly. “I see.” Chuckling softly to himself he then offered what he thought to be the most sensible reply. “Just bring me the child when he is born and I will decide then.”
Infuriated that he would laugh at a matter that was so important to her, she broke away from him and leapt to her feet. “I know a slave’s babe is a thrall too, a slave from the first breath he takes, but I had hoped you would think as much of our child as I will.” The man gave affection in such abundance, but why was it so empty, without the love she craved to inspire? Searching her mind for a way to gain her own freedom and therefore free all her unborn children, she stood proudly as she asked, “If I kill your bear, will you set me free?”
Getting to his feet and rising to his full height to give himself every advantage in their argument, he continued to scoff at her fury. “Bring me his pelt and I may just do it.”
“No! I must have your word now,” she demanded emphatically, not in the least bit intimidated by his height and strength as he towered above her.
That a mere woman, and a slender, pretty one, would suggest such an impossible task was so absurd he felt safe in agreeing. “I’ll give my word then, bring me proof the beast is dead and you shall be free.”
“It is agreed, then.” She turned away to gather up the branches she had found to make arrows, but her mind was already busily planning strategy. She lacked the strength to shoot arrows with sufficient power to slay a bear, so what weapon could she use?
Confused by the intensity of her manner, Mylan shook his head in frustration. He knew he should have simply made love to her again rather than catering to her whims by answering her fanciful questions. Her figure bore no sign of incipient motherhood as yet, but he could not help count back over the days since their farcical wedding had taken place. Had she become pregnant that blasted night she would know it by now, and he hurried after her, wondering how he could force that truth from her lips when she had spoken few credible words in the entire time he had known her.
Chapter 11
The fields of grain were flourishing, the summer was full upon the land, and Mylan paused in his labors to wipe his brow. He had been chopping the firewood needed to roast the meat for their supper while Celiese had gone to bathe. She would have his bath ready when he finished, but she still preferred the fresh running w
ater of the stream to soaking in a warm tub as he did. Her fair hair sparkled in the sun, her skin glowed with the pretty bloom of youth, so obviously her preference for the chill water of the stream harmed neither her health nor her beauty in any way. He had often invited her, but she would never join him in a hot bath, and the mere thought of their attempting to bathe together brought a mischievous grin to his lips. But in truth, he could not think of the lovely young woman without smiling widely.
She had mastered each lesson he had presented, and he no longer even considered the prospect of going hunting without her by his side. She had listened carefully to his instructions, and practiced so diligently with her newly made bow and arrows that she had soon proven astonishingly proficient. Were there ever a need, he would not hesitate to send her out alone to bring home game for their table, but the need had not arisen, and he preferred that they hunt together. Her lively wit lit his days with laughter, while her delicate beauty continued to fill his nights with the indescribable joy of love.
“Love.” He whispered the word softly to himself, knowing her love was merely an illusion, a spell she wove with no more than a seductive glance as she came to his bed, but it was a magic he would never tire of sharing. Despite his every attempt at caution, the delightful young woman had simply bewitched him. But too often of late she had been so lost in her own thoughts she had seemed unaware of his existence. He could fault neither her behavior nor her housekeeping, but he worried still that she held secrets in her heart that might again prove disastrous for them both.
“Mylan?” Celiese shook out her damp curls as she called his name. He had split enough logs to last them for many weeks now they no longer needed a fire for warmth in the evenings. She could not understand his purpose. “Are you preparing for winter already?”
Finally noticing he had greatly exceeded his needs; he turned her question aside with good humor. “It is never too early to begin the preparations for winter, for it is long and harsh here, far different from those you’ve known on the coast.”
Coming near, she touched his forearm gently. As usual, he had discarded his tunic, and his warm skin felt so pleasant beneath her fingertips she did not lift her hand. “How did you pass the days when you had no one with whom to speak or share your meals?”
“I did not feel well enough to want company, but this winter I will have you to keep me amused.” He leaned down to bite her earlobe with a playful growl, sending her backing away with a lilting giggle that amused him all the more.
“Beast!” she called over her shoulder as she ran toward the house, but the prospect of spending the winter in his arms was so thrilling she could not hide her joy. With luck she would be a free woman by then, his woman still, but by choice rather than command.
Although he did not comment, he considered the supper she served him most delicious. She had a natural talent for cooking, which had developed rapidly once she had an opportunity to practice her skills. As usual, she had steamed the vegetables from his garden, then sprinkled them with herbs he had found in the forest, so their flavor was perfection. He had never tasted better fowl than she prepared, and she had roasted the wild hen they had shot to a succulent brown that melted in his mouth. In so many ways she was a treasure.
When he had eaten his fill, he shoved his plate away and withdrew from his pocket an intricately fashioned silver chain. He held it up for Celiese to see. “I found this as I was getting dressed this evening. I thought I’d lost it, but it has been a long while since I wore this particular pair of trousers, so the necklace was only mislaid. Have you ever seen one of these?”
Taking the pretty chain in her hands, Celiese found it held a delicate silver charm in the shape of a hammer. For an instant she could not comprehend its significance, then realized what it must be. “Is this a replica of Thor’s hammer?”
“Very good, I see you do know something of value, after all. The god Odin’s son, Thor, owns three treasures, a hammer that can shatter rock and is useful to slay giants, a pair of iron gloves to hold the hammer and a magic belt that doubles his strength.”
She nodded slightly. He frequently spun tales for her now, but he had so many gods and goddesses upon whom to report she was certain she would never be able to remember them all. Thor was a major god, however, and his possessions were worthy of being recalled. She whispered the list softly.
“Yes, I understand, a magic hammer, gloves and a belt.” Wondering about the necklace, she continued, “Is only Thor’s hammer used for charms?”
“Yes.” He took the chain from her and walked around the table to stand behind her chair. He lifted her long curls out of the way to slip the attractive necklace over her head, and adjusted it so it lay comfortably around her neck. “There, it will bring you good luck now.”
She touched the small charm lightly, uncertain as to why he had given it to her or how she might refuse to wear it without offending him. “This is so pretty, Mylan, and I am very pleased you want to give it to me, but I cannot accept it.”