Love's Captive Heart - Page 32

Forcing himself to hold his tongue, he sat down by her side, trying first to think of some reason for her remark before he gave vent to his anger, but his gaze was too dark for his mood to be mistaken. “This is the only present I have ever given you. Why don’t you want it?”

She spoke softly, choosing her words with care, sorry she had insulted him without meaning to give offense. “I cannot wear this, for the charm will have no value on me since my faith is not yours. I do not believe in the power of Thor’s hammer to bring me good fortune, and so it will not help me as it would you.”

He waited a long moment, considering the wisdom of her words thoughtfully. When he saw the first trace of tears glistening upon her long lashes he leaned over to kiss them away, all thought of anger instantly dissolved. “I don’t expect you to accept my faith, all you need ever accept is this.” He placed his fingertips under her chin to turn her face to his so he might kiss her lips tenderly, the reassurance in his touch as deep as that in his words.

Never able to resist his caress, she lifted her arms to encircle his neck, hugging him tightly as she welcomed his kiss. When at last he drew away, she was smiling. “I will wear it then, and think only of you.”

“That is better.” He hugged her in return, grateful she had given in to him so easily. It was not often he won her acceptance for any of his requests without a long and bitter argument, and he had not meant to begin a fight that night, only to give her something pretty. “Come with me, let us look at the stars for a moment.” Taking her hand in his, he led the way through the door, then stepped behind Celiese and wrapped his arms around her waist to draw her near. “This day was nearly a perfect one, for the crops are thriving without our toil, and we discovered a very beautiful part of the forest I’d never seen.”

Placing her hands over his, she relaxed against him. With her loving care and fine meals his lean physique had become more sturdy, but his muscular frame was still far from heavy. She found his warmth and nearness so reassuring she almost purred as she replied. “How can you fault any aspect of the day we spent? I think it was as perfect in all respects as any day will ever be.”

There, she had done it again, chosen to argue rather than agree, but he did not complain of her willfulness. “There is one important thing lacking still, Celiese.”

Frowning slightly, she turned to glance up at him. “If there is anything I’ve forgotten please tell me now, and I will see to it at once.”

He did no more than return her steady gaze, holding her in a light but firm embrace so she would not escape his grasp for any reason. “It is you I want now, for only you will make this night as pleasant as the day.”

An enchanting smile lit the young woman’s features as she turned to tickle his ribs playfully. “Neither your day nor night is complete without my company? Is that what you’re saying?”

Instantly growing wary, he realized he had said far more than he had meant to, and her teasing questions demanded the truthful response he was still unwilling to give. Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her into his house and dropped her in a careless heap upon his bed.

“I’ve lived too many years without your company to be dependent upon it now. Do not flatter yourself by pretending that I am. Sleep by yourself tonight and we will see just who is dependent upon whom.” He started for the door without any idea of where he wished to go, but he was so intent upon teaching her a lesson he had not considered where he would spend the night.

Leaping off the bed, Celiese came after him. “Must you be such an unreasonable bully? If my words displease you, will you not tell me why? I did not mean to make you angry when we were so happy together.”

Scowling impatiently, he stopped at the door. “Can you not remember it is your place to do my bidding and not mine to do yours?”

Color flooded the fair young woman’s cheeks at that insult and she was suddenly as furious as he. “I am the worst of servants, it seems, but you must recall I was once your wife and forgive me when I treat you as my husband rather than my master.”

“Do not ever make the mistake of reminding me again of our marriage, when we both know you never expected to live for even one day as my wife!”

Celiese stared at the open door, for he had simply vanished he had fled the house so quickly. There was no point in following him, for he knew the land so well the coming darkness would be no hindrance to him, while she was certain to fall and be injured or at the very least to become lost. She clutched the small silver hammer he had given her and began to pace distractedly beside the open doorway.

“Luck!” she shrieked in frustration, tempted to yank the fine chain from her neck and hurl it as well as the pagan charm out into the yard. How could the evening have ended in such a ridiculous way? Swearing at everything that caught her eye, she cursed at the top of her voice, knowing he was undoubtedly too far away to hear or criticize her language. Finally she noticed the hearth, which occupied the center of the small dwelling.

“Damn Vikings, if th

ey are so clever why can they not build a house with a proper fireplace and chimney!” They had roasted the hen outdoors so as not to fill the house with smoke. Suddenly, as she considered the discomfort the smoke caused when she cooked indoors, she realized with a burst of insight that smoke could be a powerful weapon to use against a bear and felt foolish for not having thought of using it before that night. Nearly dancing with glee, her anger forgotten, she circled the room, then flopped down upon the large bed to consider the idea more fully.

Knowing the bitter scene that had prompted Mylan to flee her presence that night would be repeated endlessly until she won her freedom, she considered all her options calmly to devise a clever plan. According to Mylan, the bear roamed the woods near his cave during the day, and returned to it each night and remained there until dawn. If she were to approach his lair while he was sleeping soundly and lay a stack of green wood at the entrance, she could ignite it at sunrise. The beast would stagger from the cave, disoriented, blinded by the dense smoke, and she could kill him before he had a chance to escape or to do her any harm.

Glancing toward the weapons stored in the corner, she attempted to make the best possible choice. Her bow and arrows would inflict only insignificant wounds, enrage the bear and leave her in even more danger. She had thrown Mylan’s spear only half a dozen times and had no confidence in using it as yet.

The axe was useful for chopping wood, but she would have to be far stronger to swing it with sufficient power to kill the beast with one blow, and she would have no second chance. She sat up, hugging her knees as she pondered what to do. The small silver hammer brushed her hand, and, thinking of Mylan, she glanced toward the carved chest holding his belongings and an additional alternative came to her mind.

His possessions included a magnificent sword, double-edged and sharp enough to slay a man with one blow. Could it also be used to kill a bear? She got up quickly, removed his clothing from the trunk and found the sword where she had first seen it. It was heavy, difficult for her to hold. But there was a rocky ledge above the bear’s cave, and if she were to wait there for the animal to appear and strike him in the neck she just might be able to kill him before he had a chance to kill her. She would have to leave at dawn, make her way to the other side of the forest, and gather wood near the bear’s cave. When she was certain he was asleep, she would make the preparations for the fire, light it at dawn, then climb up upon the ledge. It was possible the plan would work as she imagined it would, but if it did not, she would at least have the satisfaction of knowing she had died fighting rather than spent what remained of her life as a captive.

The whole idea terrified her, and yet it was her only chance to gain her freedom. She would have to kill the bear or die trying, and she had simply no other choice. She would leave at dawn, make her way to the bear’s territory, and pray he had had many fine meals that summer and would not be tracking her scent while she planned his death. She would go in the morning, and if she were successful then the next time she saw Mylan she would be free and he could no longer call her a slave nor reject the love she wanted so desperately to offer as only a wife could. Her problems solved for the moment, she prepared for bed, knowing she would need strength as well as cunning. She fell asleep promptly, letting the rest she needed wash the fatigue from her body as well as her mind.

*

When his temper cooled Mylan retraced his steps. If anyone were to sleep under the stars that night it should be Celiese, and he vowed that if she was still angry with him when he returned home he would simply turn her out and sleep alone in his own bedâ??which was what he should have done in the first place. Finding the door unbarred, he entered the house cautiously, but Celiese was sound asleep, curled up upon his bed with a contented smile, as though her dreams were most entertaining. He was badly disappointed to find their argument had affected her so slightly. She had simply gone to bed as if nothing were amiss, and it annoyed him tremendously to think she had given so little thought to his comfort that if he had stayed away all night it would not have troubled her sleep.

The night was warm, and Celiese lay uncovered upon the furs, her pose a most attractive one. Mylan found his anger quickly replaced with desire. He was swift to cast off his own clothing, then bent over her, letting his lips slide down her spine to trail light kisses over her moist skin as he joined her upon the bed. Thinking the curve of her slender hip equally inviting, he caressed her lightly, teasing her slowly awake with a tantalizing touch that was sweeter than any dream could ever be.

She snuggled against him, the few hours they had been apart forgotten as she pulled him into her arms. He gave her no opportunity to speak, but she would never have apologized for she was far too eager for his kiss to waste precious minutes continuing an argument that should never have taken place. Her plans already made, she wanted only to tell him goodbye with affection so lavish he would never forget her should she be unable to return to his arms.

Mylan wound his fingers in her silken curls, hoping to hold her fast, but although he had captured her lips with his own, her honey-smooth caress aroused his passions to an intensity he could scarcely endure. She moved beneath him then, her hands now encircling his waist to press down upon the small of his back, and he could no longer delay the pleasure he knew they would create. He thought of her as delicate despite her seductive ways, and moved with practiced gentleness to dominate her lissome body with the fierce strength of his own.

Tags: Phoebe Conn Historical
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