“But
London
will be different.
The
ton
does not forgive any mistakes.
If you give them even a hint that something is not as it appears with you, they will seek any chink in your armor.”
He frowned.
“I do not have any armor, not to wear or as a shield.”
“It is only a saying, Nils...I mean,
Niles
.”
She glanced uneasily at the door.
“The mistakes may not be only mine.”
“That is why you need to learn more about
London
and the Polite World.”
“That makes good sense.”
She motioned toward the door.
“I think my father’s book-room is where we can best speak without others listening.”
“The room where he keeps the books like the ones you have shown me?”
“Yes.”
Linnea could not miss how
Niles
’s eyes glistened at the prospect of viewing more of the books that had fascinated him during his recovery.
Her fingers reached out to touch his left arm before she could halt them.
She snatched them back.
“You cannot hurt it.”
“I wish you would explain how your arm healed so swiftly.”
“I know.”
She waited for him to add more, but he walked to the door and looked back at her, clearly anxious for her to lead him to Papa’s book-room.
He knew how this distressed her, and yet he was not going to ease her curiosity.
Blast this man!
Walking in silence with him along the hall did nothing to lighten her spirits.
She should be glad that he was keeping this wall of half-truths between them.
That gave her the very best excuse to ignore her yearning for his kisses, but she could not be unaware of the coiled strength in his easy walk by her side.
Until yesterday, he had been injured.
When he had appeared at Dinah’s wedding, she had been overmastered by his virile strength that had been hinted at even when he could barely sit on the shore.
The book-room was deserted.
Through an open window, she heard the cheerful voices from the road in front of the house.
She went to the window and waved to her sister, who was getting into Lord Simmons’s elegant carriage.
“Will they be gone for a full turn of the moon?”
Niles
asked.
“Longer actually.
They are spending a month in
Rome
before going on to
Zurich
.
Those plans, of course, are dependent upon events on the Continent.
If Napoleon tries to grab more of it to add to his empire, they will return posthaste to
England
.”
“
Rome
?
I know of that city.
Zurich
, I do not know.”
She pulled a large book from a nearby shelf and opened it on a book stand.
Flipping through the pages, she pointed to a map.
“This is where
Zurich
is.
In the Alps north of
Rome
.”
“I have never seen maps this well drawn.”
He sucked in his breath in astonishment as he ran his finger along the page.
“And the ink stays on the page instead of smearing so that a navigator can be tricked into misjudging the shore.”
“Most books are printed now rather than hand-drawn.”
Linnea turned a few more pages.
“Here is
England
.”
Again he brushed his fingertip against the map.
“I know this inlet and that one.”
His finger rounded the bottom of the island and moved west.
“I had heard of this area—”
“
Wales
,” she supplied with a smile.
“I had heard of it, but I never traveled that far.
Do you have a map of the lands of the
Norrfoolk
?”
She nodded and found the pages showing
Scandinavia
.
Stepping back as he bent to look more closely at his homeland, she was struck by a sudden sorrow.
It was easy to forget her compassion when he was being tiresome.
Could she have been as eager to learn all she could to survive if their situations had been reversed?
Instead of answering that difficult question, she pulled another book from a higher shelf.
The massive book wobbled in her hands, and she cringed as she feared it would fall on her head.
When broad hands steadied it, she whispered, “Thank you,
Niles
.”
“My pleasure,
unnasta
.”
His breath warmed her nape.
“You should not call me that.”
“I know.”
“But you just did!”
“I know.”
When he laughed, she grimaced.
He enjoyed hoaxing her far too much.
Trying to pay no mind to how close he continued to stand as she opened the second book, she found the picture she wished to show him.
“Look here.”
“What is it?”
He leaned over her shoulder to look more closely.
In spite of her efforts to appear serene when he pressed so near, her voice was breathless.
“It is a ship.”
“The sails...”
He traced the highest mast.
“How tall is this?”
She paged through to another drawing that showed the tars scrambling across the sheets, their forms silhouetted against the broad sails.
Handing it to him, she said, “This should offer you some comparison.”
“By Thor’s hammer!”
He sat on the arm of the closest chair as he stared at the page.
“This ship is huge.
My ship could have sat in the midst of its deck and not touched either railing.”
“The ship in the picture would be considered a medium-sized ship nowadays.”
“Amazing!
Where are the oars?”
“They use only sails now, although there has been some work with creating a boat that runs on a steam engine.”
“A what?”
“I don’t understand it totally myself, but it has to do with steam turning paddles that move the ship through the water.”
His eyes widened.
“So even if the wind is calm, the ship could continue on its way.”
“Yes.”
“Amazing,” he said again, but with a sigh.
Closing the book, he placed it back on the shelf.
“This time of yours has many marvels, but it seems you have paid for all this comfort and those new inventions with a tranquil life that provides little flavor to a man who has been accustomed to many challenges in his life.”
She set the other book on its shelf.
“Your challenge now is to convince the Polite World that you are one of them.”
“Polite World!
Even the phrase reminds me how far I am from my own time.”
“I never guessed.”
“Guessed what?”
“How lonely you must be.”
He laughed.
“Lonely?
In this house with all your family and all their servants?”
“I am not speaking of that.”
She sat on the chair beside where he stood.
“I was speaking of how lonely you must be for your own time and your own world.”
His smile vanished.
“I try not to think of it.”
She ran her hands along his sleeves, but drew them back when she touched the arm band he still wore.
“I see you standing here in this coat, looking like any man among the
ton
, but I cannot help thinking of you as one of the men in the picture I first showed you of the
Norrfoolk
.”
“I was brought to this time to do what I have vowed to do.”
“Leaving everyone you know a thousand years in the past.”
She blinked back sudden tears.
“I have given that very little thought.
I have preferred to think only of the jumble you have made of my life.
To think of never seeing my family or my friends or...”
Raising her eyes to meet his, she saw the depth of his sorrow.
She put her fingers lightly on his sleeve again as she whispered something she had not dared to let herself think before, “Did you leave a wife in that time?”
“My
viigi maka
—”
“That means wife?”
“Yes.”
Nils put one hand over Linnea’s on his sleeve, and he wondered if she needed that comforting touch as much as he did now.
“My
viigi maka
died of a winter illness the year after we wed.
With her died our unborn child, for it was not ready to be born.”
“
Niles
—Nils, I am so sorry.”
He ran his finger along her soft lips as she spoke his true name.
Her odd accent held a musical charm in his ears that was sweeter than the first birdsong of spring.
“I would say that her death was the choice of the gods, but I did not accept it well.
I have carried the grief with me for the past five years.”
“So it was easy for you to be willing to die for your chieftain.”
“In hopes of joining Gudrun?”
He shook his head.
“I did not wish to die any sooner than I must.
If I had wanted death, I would have given myself into the
Valkyrja’s
hands when I was marked for death on the shore.
Instead I fought for life to do what I was meant to do.”
“Which was to come here to this time and place.”