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‘You should go first.’ He plucked straw from her hair and noticed where his mouth had marred her skin. If he bathed with her, he’d be unable to resist temptation and would take her far too roughly once again. Silently he cursed his desire to know more about her and why she had felt the need to hide behind her warrior’s mask. Such things were best left alone.
‘Would you like me to send someone to help you? Anya used Magda as a maid as well as a nurse for Inga. Time you looked like a sea king’s wife.’
‘I will see to my own needs.’ She brushed her trousers down. ‘I’ve no need for any help. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.’
‘Sayrid, tomorrow you take up your duties as the lady of this estate.’
‘Leave me alone. You have done enough.’
She fled from the barn. He fought the impulse to go after her.
He silently cursed. He tried telling himself that it was what he wanted. This marriage was about gaining land and fulfilling a dream, it had nothing to do with the woman he had married. He had to keep his eyes on what was important and learn from his father’s mistakes. His uncle’s advice had served him well in the past. But now he kept remembering how cold his uncle was and how lonely he had seemed.
Somehow it only compounded the heaviness in Hrolf’s heart.
Chapter Eleven
‘My lady Sayrid has been elusive.’ Magda advanced towards where Sayrid stood sorting out the stores of weapons. The elderly nurse held out a bright blue gown which shimmered in the bright midmorning sunlight. ‘Inga and I have searched for you. We have made the necessary alterations. You need not feel ashamed of attending any feast again. You will be properly clothed.’
‘It is very kind of you, but…’ Sayrid stopped, unable to continue. Hrolf had obviously given her lack of feminine clothing as the excuse for why she had missed the evening meal last night.
She had spent ages washing off the evidence of their joining. It bothered her more than it should have that someone might find out that they had waited until they arrived back here to consummate the marriage. And then she had taken to her bed and slept. She had watched the training this morning from behind a post, but had decided against directly confronting Hrolf. Instead she had gone to one of the storerooms and started sorting the weapons. Normally setting such things to rights calmed her, but today it made her feel uneasy and lost.
The blue cloth danced in front of her eyes. Deep in her soul, she wanted to wear it and have Hrolf look at her with appreciation in his eyes.
‘Go on,’ the older woman urged. ‘See if we guessed your size correctly. You’re a married woman now, my lady. You need to look like the wife of a sea king.’
Sayrid took the blue gown. The wife of a sea king with no womanly skills. The array of shields seemed to mock her. Lusting after this dress was not going to change what she was or how other people saw her.
She hated that she wanted Hrolf’s eyes to light up when he saw her. A tiny ache started behind her brows. Wishing for things to be different was not going to change how they actually were.
‘Do you like it, my lady?’ the nurse asked.
‘Where did you find the cloth?’ she asked, holding the gown against her body.
‘Inga and I looked in many chests in the ship. I found this half-made up. We noticed your gown was in a state yesterday before Hrolf brought you his trousers and tunic. We wish to make a present to the bride. We’re sorry.’
‘It is very kind of you, but unnecessary.’ Sayrid put the gown to one side. ‘As you can see, I do have other gowns. This one has served me well for years.’ She kept quiet about the fact that every other gown she owned was in worse shape.
The older woman’s gaze seemed to hone in on the patches and the faded cloth at the hem of Sayrid’s gown. ‘You cannot wear rags. You are the wife of a wealthy man. What is Hrolf thinking of? He has silks and gold-shot cloth. But this will do for now. His eyes will sparkle when he sees you, yes?’
Sayrid choked back the truth—it would take more than clothes to make her into the sort of wife Hrolf required.
‘Silks are far too fine for every day. I will settle for good sturdy wool or perhaps linen in the high summer,’ Sayrid said, giving the silk one last stroke. It rippled in the light. ‘I will keep it for best.’
‘Inga thought the blue would match your eyes. Summer eyes, she called them.’
‘Inga has a way with words.’
‘She would like to be a skald, but there are very few women skalds. I have explained this.’ Magda shuffled her shoulders importantly. ‘Hrolf wishes for his daughter to be a credit to him and marry well.’
