Part of her bargained for stores with the man called Kalen while part kept track of the enemies behind her, and still another part remained so aware of the man at her side that her skin fairly vibrated.
When the supplies had been gathered, when she’d paid for them in silver, Quarrie said, “Ye canna carry all that yoursel’.”
“It is not so much.” She gave him a smile. “I am stronger than I look.” To Kalen she said, “Pray, put it all in one sack I may carry.”
“I will send someone wi’ ye,” Quarrie said, overruling her, and as swiftly decided, “’Tis I will accompany ye.”
With that, she would not argue. Whether he meant it as a gesture of accord, whether he sought to return her act of boldness in coming here with one of its equal, she did not know, nor did she care. It meant a few more moments in his company.
Though the chief of this stronghold was surely not meant to fetch and carry for her, no one objected as they both took up a share of the supplies and started back down the slope to the sea.
The people—his people—continued to stare. They would be talking of this for days, no doubt, how the Norsewoman, and she dressed as a man of all things, had walked boldly in among them and away again.
A couple of guards came running up, concern in their faces. Quarrie nodded them off again.
In a low tone meant for his ears alone, Hulda said, “I do regret causing all this fuss, and interrupting your breakfast.”
“Och, I can eat anytime.” Implying it was a fair, rarer thing, and hence more desirable, to be in her company? So it was.
“They do stare.”
“They ha’ never seen the like o’ ye. And they marvel ye should have such—er—courage, being a woman and all.”
“I learned long ago, it does not do to have a man act on my behalf when I can act on my own.”
“Ye will ha’ made an impression, and no mistake.”
They walked on in silence, she savoring his presence, the soft, damp air of the morning gathering around them. Not until theycleared the settlement did she breathe out a measure of tension and speak again.
“I must see you. Later today? Is it possible?”
He slanted a look at her, a curious sort of glance that glinted with hazel green. “Ye wish for a meeting?”
“I do. Just the two of us. Alone.” She gazed straight into his eyes so he would take her meaning. Saw it when he did.
I want more kisses. I want more than kisses.
“I do no’ see how that might be arranged. A private meeting, that is.”
“It must be arranged.It must be.”
“There are eyes everywhere.”
“I can see that. Do you tell me in this great holding of yours there is nowhere?”
He thought about that. She could feel his thoughts moving. When he spoke again, it was not to agree or disagree.
“Mistress Hulda, this that ye suggest—it may no’ be wise. Indeed, it might prove a verra risky thing.”
“I understand very well it may not be wise,” she shot back at him. Her voice softened when she added, “It may also be the very best of things.”
They had reached the point of the headland and stopped walking. He faced her and she him. Her camp lay just ahead. Her men, as well as his, could be watching.
Somehow, she held his gaze. She had offered herself to him, as good as. Had she mistaken him? Did he not desire her in the way she desired him?
She remembered his kisses. Nei, she had not been mistaken.
A storm filled his eyes. His voice, though, remained low and calm when he said, “I can think of no place—”
