Page 29
She sucked in a breath and looked at his hands holding hers, then nodded. “Okay. But you must promise not to be a jerk like that again. And don’t you dare disappear in the night.”
He released her hands. Her words amused him—she sounded like a real wife. “Woman, know your place,” he said, turning and walking towards the longhouse. She followed him. People began coming out onto the streets and greeted him and Holly, their faces friendly and cheerful. “I promise I will treat you with honor as long as you deserve it. But I will not answer you about my whereabouts.”
“Where were you, anyway?” she asked, as if she had not heard his words.
“Just slept with the sheep.”
“Well, don’t sleep with the sheep tonight. Stay in your bed. With me.”
Einar nodded. Deep inside, he looked forward to being in the same bed as her. And he hated himself for it.
Chapter Eleven
May 25
Holly woke up squeezed under a furnace-hot arm and leg as heavy as trees. It was still dark and quiet, so it was probably the middle of the night, but her bladder was full. She needed to go to the outhouse. Reluctant to go into the cold, she nestled against Einar, absorbing his weight and inhaling his now-familiar scent. He stirred and pulled her into his embrace.
Her husband.
Not really. She was just pretending, playing at marriage like a little girl. Oh, was it so wrong that she enjoyed this marriage so much?
They made love every night, but he never came inside her again. She longed for him to—the satisfaction of their common release had been earth-shattering. She wanted more. She had compulsions, like finishing a box of chocolates if she started one or binge-watching a series through the night even though she had meetings all morning.
This desire was much worse.
But it was his rule, and she respected it.
Holly squirmed as she became uncomfortable. She needed to pee. She glanced at Einar, who slept peacefully, his usually stern profile relaxed now, making him look much younger. She stopped herself from reaching out and brushing her fingertips along his face.
He’d told her about his insomnia, but she hadn’t noticed any signs of it. Ever since they’d started sharing a bed, he was usually sleeping when she woke up in the mornings. When he was awake, he pushed his erection into her hip and made her change her mind about hating morning sex.
Holly rolled out of his embrace and stood up, dressed in her linen shift, and walked from the bedchamber into the sleeping, wheezing main hall. Huddled in their alcoves, guests, servants, and Svanhild rested.
Holly hurried outside. The sky had begun brightening over the horizon, and the village would be stirring in a few hours.
When she left the outhouse, a quick rustle of grass made her freeze and turn. The wind? She narrowed her eyes to look at the dark hill spotted with the grayish silhouettes of sleeping sheep. They had been moved closer to the houses yesterday, as there was more fresh grass to graze. She heard another rustle and a pained whimper, then silence.
Then she saw them, and her blood stood still. Dark figures lurked among the herd of sheep, moving towards the village. And she heard disturbed baas as a few of the figures herded the animals away.
Holly sank back into the grass. The men were getting closer to the houses. She could see axes and swords in their hands, and then light flared as the men at the front lit their torches.
She needed to alert Einar. Staying low, she turned and slunk into the house, praying the raiders wouldn’t notice her.
In the bedchamber, she shook him. “Einar! Einar!”
His eyes snapped open, and he sat up, a dagger in his hand. “What?”
“I think we are being raided,” she said in a loud whisper.
“What? What did you see?”
“A group of men, very close to the village. They’re armed and have torches.”
Einar’s expression hardened. He leaped up and yanked on his trousers, then grabbed his sword and ax.
“Outlaws,” he said, his gray eyes black in the semidarkness. “I will alert the men. Stay here.”
But Holly couldn’t. She followed him, her heart pounding, her pulse beating in her ears.
