Heart of Honor (31 page)

Thor reached out and caught his brother’s arm. “Are you certain of this path you have chosen, Leif? It is clear you have deep feelings for Krista. Are you certain your destiny lies in Draugr and not here?”

Tears burned Krista’s eyes. She found herself praying that Leif would change his mind, that he would stay in England and they could be together, but in her heart she knew that he would not.

He only shook his head. “I have a duty to our people. I made a vow to Father and I will not break it.”

The professor touched Krista’s cheek as if he knew her thoughts, knew how badly she wanted Leif to remain, knew that it took all her willpower not to throw herself into his arms and beg him to stay.

“The hour grows late and Leif will have to be up early,” the professor said. “I suggest we all retire and try to get some sleep.”

Krista looked up at Leif and found his incredible blue eyes on her face. The time had come. Ignoring the lump of tears in her throat, she merely nodded, turned and began to climb the stairs. As the group reached the top, her father and Thor continued down the hall to their bedrooms, but Krista paused and turned to Leif.

“Will I see you in the morning before you leave?”

“I will be gone before sunup. It is best we say our farewells now.”

“Yes…I—I suppose that would be best.” But she didn’t want to say goodbye. She didn’t want to lose him, now or ever. Krista made no move to leave and neither did Leif.

“I will never forget you,” she said, the ache in her throat so painful she could barely speak. “I will never love another man the way I love you. No matter what happens, no matter what the future might bring, you will always be the husband of my heart.”

His gaze grew fierce. “You are mine. It has always been so and always will be.” Gently, he cupped her face in his hands and very softly kissed her. It was the first time he had touched her so intimately since they had returned to England, and Krista’s eyes welled with tears. For an instant she kissed him back, melting against him, sliding her arms around his neck. She was trembling, aching inside. She felt as if she was dying—and that if she were, she would welcome it.

She kissed him and kissed him and could not seem to stop. It took every ounce of her willpower to let him pull away.

“I am leaving and you must stay,” he said to her softly. “If we do not stop now, I will take you, as I ache to do.”

She reached out and touched his cheek, realizing that was exactly what she wanted. For an instant she thought of Matthew, but she owed him nothing—not yet. It was a marriage of convenience, a matter of money and gaining an heir, and he had agreed to wait to claim his husbandly rights until she was ready.

She would do her duty, be a good wife to Matthew. But if she couldn’t have the man she loved, at least she could have these last few precious hours with him.

“I want you to make love to me. I have never wanted anything so badly.”

But he only shook his head. “This I cannot do.” Bending toward her, he gently kissed her one last time. “Have a good life, Krista Hart.”

Then he turned and started walking, went into his room without looking back and quietly closed the door.

Krista leaned against the wall for support. On legs that felt wooden, she moved down the hall, entered her own room and closed the door.

Her maid had retired for the night and Krista did not wake her. Instead, she managed to remove her bloodstained day dress, wash her face and pull on a fresh cotton nightrail. She unpinned the thick blond curls that rested on her shoulders, sat down on the bench in front of her mirror and pulled the silver-backed brush through her hair.

Tonight was the last time she would ever see Leif.

He wanted her, she knew. Just as she wanted him.

If she went to him, would he refuse her?

He was a strong man, and principled, and he would worry he might leave her with child. But if he did, she would rejoice, be grateful for the part of him that he had left behind.

Krista rested the hairbrush on the dresser and rose from the bench. Ignoring the cold wooden floors, she walked to the door, pulled it open and stepped out into the hall. It was windy outside and she could hear the rustle of branches against the windowpanes. If the weather held, tomorrow would be a good day for sailing.

Her heart ached dully. Krista opened Leif’s door and prayed he would not send her away.

Leif stripped off his clothes, noticing the rusty stains on his coat and waistcoat that reminded him of his encounter with Porter Burton this night. His hands unconsciously fisted. Burton had meant to harm Krista. If Leif hadn’t been there—

He shoved the thought away. It was over. Krista was safe. He had to believe that. If he didn’t he would not be able to leave.

The clock on the mantel chimed. It was two in the morning and yet he had no wish to sleep. In a few hours he would leave for the docks and prepare to sail just after dawn. He pulled on a clean pair of trousers, set out his boots and a clean shirt to put on before he left, then went about packing the tunic, breeches and fur-lined Viking footwear he had worn on his arrival. He would leave the rest of his English clothes behind for Thor. Leif no longer had a use for them.

He wondered if he would return one day for a visit, if the elders would even permit it. He told himself it wasn’t Krista he already yearned to see, that it wasn’t the woman he loved who called to him even now, before he had left her here on these foreign shores. In his mind’s eye, he could see her in the simple white nightgown she had worn the night he had stolen her from this house, the night he had claimed her as the woman he would wed.

He looked up just then and it was as if his memory had come to life, as if the creature walking toward him in her simple white nightgown, her golden curls floating around her shoulders, had stepped out of his dream.

But this creature was real. A flesh-and-blood woman come to him as he had longed for her to do.

“Krista…”

“I had to come, Leif. Please don’t send me away.”

He walked toward her, drew her into his arms, held her against his heart. “I could not send you away. I no longer have the will.”

She looked up at him and the love in her eyes made his chest ache.

“Make love to me,” she said.

He knew he shouldn’t, that as careful as he always was, a child might result. “What will you do if there is a babe?”

“I will love it. Just as I love you.”

He couldn’t deny her; he would do anything for her. And he could no longer deny himself. Capturing her face, he kissed her deeply, kissed her with all the feelings he held for her.

“I never thought to love you,” he said gruffly. “I wanted you. I thought that would be enough.”

But it wasn’t enough, he now knew. He wanted her heart as well as her body.

“We only have this one night,” she said. “Somehow it will have to be enough.”

He tipped her chin up with his fingers. “One night will never be enough, but I will try to make it so.” And then he kissed her again, and his tongue found its way into her mouth and hers into his. Her hands ran over his naked chest and she pressed her soft body against the hardness of his own.

Leif kissed her thoroughly and fiercely, then pulled the string at the neck of her nightgown and slid it off her smooth, pale shoulders. He eased the fabric down over her breasts, over her narrow waist, over the gentle swell of her hips. She stood before him naked, and the sight of her heated his blood.

He drew her back into his arms for another burning kiss, felt her breasts pressing into his chest, and filled his hands with their fullness. He took each one into his mouth, heard her soft moan of pleasure, and his rod grew stiff and heavy, aching with his need of her, his fierce desire to be inside her.

Not yet,
he told himself. He would pleasure her this night, give to her all he had to give. He would love her so fiercely she would never forget him. If she took another man into her bed, still she would think of him and remember this time together.

Lifting her into his arms, he carried her across the room and drew back the covers, then settled her on the deep feather mattress. Leif unfastened his trousers, shoved them down his legs, then joined her naked on the bed. For a moment he lay beside her, admiring the way the moonlight revealed her softly curving flesh, the beauty of her face, the paleness of her hair. The wind blew outside the window and he could hear it keening through the leafless, frost-covered branches of the tree behind the house.

It was a sound that whispered through his soul, a bone-deep sadness he knew would never leave him. The gods had played a cruel and bitter trick and he wondered if he would ever forgive them.

Still, they had given him this one last night, and he meant to make the most of it. When Krista reached for him, he went into her arms, kissing her deeply, taking what he wanted, what she wanted, heating her desire and his own. His mouth moved down her body, worshipping each of her lush, womanly breasts, kissing the soft skin over her belly, then moving lower. Settling himself between her legs, he pleasured her with his mouth and his hands, laving and fondling, until she reached release. He watched as her body arched upward in fulfillment, her eyes closing, her teeth sinking into her full bottom lip.

His need for her grew nearly unbearable. Absorbing her cries of passion, he slid his tongue into the sweet cavern of her mouth even as he thrust his hard length inside her. He filled her completely, taking what he so desperately wanted. Krista arched once more, urging him deeper still, and Leif groaned. He thrust into her again and again, branding her as his, filling her and filling her until she cried out his name and slipped over the edge into a shuddering release.

Still he did not stop, not until he had stirred her desire once more, her hips lifting toward him, meeting each of his deep strokes and silently demanding completion. She was his equal in passion, giving and taking with the same fierce need for him that he felt for her, and together they climbed the pinnacle and soared into the heavens.

They lay together for a time before he took her again, their mating fierce and yet gentle, at times almost reverent. When they had finished and she slept deeply, he wrapped her in her nightgown and carried her back to her room. She didn’t awaken as he stooped to build up the fire in the hearth, didn’t stir when he kissed her one last time.

By the time she awakened, he would be gone.

It was morning. Krista reached for Leif, but the bed was cold where he should have lain, and she realized the room she slept in was her own. A sob swelled in her throat. She reached for him again though she knew he was not there, her hand trembling as she touched the pillow next to hers.

Something lay atop it. Her fingers curled around the object and she sat up to see what it was.

There in her palm was a small, intricately carved ivory ring. It was the ring Leif had meant for her to wear as his wife.

She could not bear it.

By now the tide would have gone out. The
Sea Dragon
would have sailed, carrying Leif away from her forever. Clutching the ring in her hand, Krista turned her face into her pillow and began to weep.

K
rista moved through the following days as if in a trance. Coralee helped her select a wedding gown, a lovely pale blue lace-and-tulle concoction with a full skirt and lacy train that made her look like a fairy princess—a very tall fairy princess, but still, the gown was lovely.

Though her heart wasn’t in it, Krista ordered ball gowns, day dresses and traveling suits she might need in her new life with Matthew Carlton.

Krista had yet to see him. She thought that her grandfather was afraid she might change her mind about the wedding, and so no chance for a meeting arose.

She didn’t care. In truth, she cared nothing for the wedding she had agreed to, nothing for the future that loomed so bleakly ahead of her. She tried to keep her mind on work, to focus her thoughts on upcoming issues of
Heart to Heart,
but it was difficult to concentrate. She knew her family and friends were worried about her, but there was nothing she could do to escape the lethargy that weighed her down like a lead-lined cloak.

It was three days before the wedding when Coralee came into her office and quietly closed the door. “I wish to speak to you.”

Krista looked up from the article she was trying to pen with very little success. “What is it? Has something happened?”

“I’m worried about you, Krista. Are you certain you are all right? I have never seen you this way. You’re not eating enough. You’re skin is pale and you can’t seem to concentrate on the simplest of tasks.”

“I’m all right. I am just…just a little nervous, I suppose. Surely that is normal for a woman about to be married.”

“You are still in love with Leif and scarcely ready to wed another man.”

“I will always be in love with Leif. But he is gone, so what does it matter? Matthew is willing to marry me and I am in need of a husband.”

“Surely you can wait, postpone the wedding for a couple of months, give yourself a bit more time to heal.”

Krista shook her head. “Time won’t change anything. It is my duty to marry and give my family an heir. Grandfather has made all the arrangements and I am not going to disappoint him again.”

“Krista…”

“Please, Coralee. My mind is made up. Leif is gone and he isn’t coming back. If I cannot marry him, it doesn’t matter whom I wed.”

Corrie released a sigh. “I suppose you aren’t the first woman who has married for reasons other than love.”

“No, I am not. This is a marriage of convenience and both parties are well aware of it.”

“You make it sound so cold. Is there a chance that someday you might develop feelings for Matthew?”

Krista glanced toward the window. The wind still blew, carrying Leif farther and farther away. “Perhaps it will happen…in time. If I am lucky and we have children, then perhaps certain feelings will grow.”

Corrie rounded the desk, leaned over and hugged her. “The wedding is only three days away. If you need anything—anything at all—just let me know.”

“I need your friendship, Coralee. I have never needed it so badly.”

Corrie reached out and caught her hand. “You have always had my friendship, and it has never been stronger than right now.”

“Then with your help I will get through this. I will marry Matthew and get on with my life.”

A stiff wind filled the sails of the
Sea Dragon,
propelling the schooner through the heavy swells. The ship heeled over, cutting through the frothy whitecaps stretching to the horizon. The tall masts creaked as Leif stood on deck behind the big teakwood wheel.

He was more than three days out of England, nearly halfway to Draugr Island. For each of those days, he had felt the pull of England like a great magnet calling him back. He had never felt anything like it, a power so strong he could almost believe he was beckoned by the gods themselves.

But he had a duty, he reminded himself. His people needed him and he had made a vow to his father. And the gods had never meant Krista to be his.

For three days he told himself this. For three days, he tried to convince himself. It was only moments ago, after another long, sleepless night, that he’d remembered the box.

The carved wooden box his uncle Sigurd had given him the morning he had sailed from Draugr Island.

“Once you are in Eng-land,”
his uncle had said,
“if still you have doubts about returning to Draugr, then I would have you open this….”

“I have a duty, Uncle.”

“Take the box,”
Sigurd had said.
“Open it only if your doubts remain.”

Leif had taken it and placed it beneath the berth in his cabin. He had never thought to open it. But each day, his doubts had grown, and now he was driven to see what lay inside. Giving the wheel over to Captain Twig, he strode toward the ladder leading down to his quarters in the stern of the ship. It took only moments to find the box and pull it from beneath his berth. He set it on his bunk, lifted the rusty iron latch and opened the lid.

Inside, on a cloth of finely spun wool, lay an amulet carved from the tusk of a walrus, suspended from a leather thong. He recognized the object at once. It had been worn by his father and his father’s father before him. In the center of the ancient amulet was a small silver hammer, the thunderbolt of Thor, the god who protected men from evil.

Next to it rested a scrolled parchment fashioned from the skin of a sheep.

Leif’s hand shook as he reached for the paper and unrolled it. He recognized the writing as his uncle’s.

Leif’s heart beat oddly as he set the note aside and picked up the amulet. For as long as he could remember, his father had worn the hammer of Thor around his neck, as protection from whatever perils might lie in his path through life.

Ragnaar had given the necklace to him, his eldest son. Even after Leif had gone against his wishes, his father had loved him. And mayhap, in the end, he had understood why Leif had been compelled to leave.

Holding up the leather thong, Leif lifted it over his head and settled the amulet against his chest. It was as if he could feel his father’s presence there beside him in the cabin.

“Thank you, Father,” he said solemnly, his hand closing over the intricately carved ivory. Turning, he walked out of the cabin, filled with a sense of freedom and joy unlike anything he had known. The gods had been right all along. His heart and his destiny lay in England, and at last he was free to claim them.

As he strode across the deck, he shouted, “Make ready, Captain Twig! There’s been a change of plans. We are returning to England!”

Leif smiled to think that in going back to a land that had once been so foreign—returning to Krista—he would at last be going home.

It was Saturday, Krista’s wedding day. She rose early to prepare for it. Her trunks had been sent to her grandfather’s town mansion, Hampton House, at the edge of the city. It was a bit of a carriage ride, and the wedding was set for noon. She and her father needed to get under way so they would not be late.

Though Thor had been invited, he had declined, and she thought he must have understood that though he was dark where Leif was fair, just looking at him reminded her of the husband she could not have.

He walked Krista and her father to the door, bent and kissed her cheek. “Be…happy, Krista,” he said in English, and when her eyes widened at his effort and she smiled, he actually grinned, a rare occurrence for Thor.

“Thank you,” she replied, and he nodded and seemed pleased to have understood.

Even before they left the house, her smile began to fade. She wasn’t looking forward to a future with Matthew, as a new bride should have been. She wondered if it was truly fair to marry him when she was in love with another man.

She was lost in thought as she and her father rode through the crowded London streets.

“You look beautiful, my dear.” The professor’s voice reached her from the opposite side of the carriage, drawing her back to the present. She wasn’t yet wearing her wedding dress; Coralee would help her change once she reached Hampton House. But her hair had been coiffed into thick golden curls that rested on her shoulders, and her maid, Priscilla, had pinned fresh gardenias into each cluster.

“Thank you, Father.”

“You are going to make a beautiful bride.”

Krista didn’t reply. She only prayed that Matthew would keep his word and give her time to adjust to being his wife. She wasn’t ready for any sort of intimacy between them. She needed a chance to get to know him, to come to terms with the future that lay ahead of them.

In time it will all work out,
she told herself.

And she prayed that it would be true.

Once the
Sea Dragon
reached the London docks, it didn’t take long for Leif and his men to make fast the lines and secure the boat. As soon as the task was completed, he leaped from the deck onto the wooden pier that led to the quay along the waterfront.

He rubbed his week’s growth of beard, wishing he had taken time to shave before he left the ship, but he had been too eager to see Krista. He couldn’t help thinking how different he looked from the civilized gentleman he had appeared when he had left England a week ago. His first day on the water, he had shed his English clothes and tossed them into the sea, hoping some of his painful memories would go with them.

It hadn’t worked. He had dressed as a Viking, but the memories remained. He had been haunted by visions of a golden-haired goddess, as no man should have to endure.

But that was in the past and today it did not matter.

Leif found himself smiling. He was back in England, back in the land he intended to make his home.

Waving to Twig and his men, he strode along the quay in search of a hansom cab. It was a dark day, overcast and windy, the air damp with the promise of rain. His fur cloak whipped in the breeze as he hailed a cab and climbed in, eager to reach Krista’s town house.

The journey seemed to take forever, though he knew it was less than half an hour. Leaping down from the cab, he flipped a coin to the driver, grateful he hadn’t tossed the few he had taken with him into the sea with his clothes. Long strides carried him up the front porch steps. He pounded several times before the butler pulled it open.

“Good morning, Giles. I am here to see Krista. Where is she?”

For a moment, the old man didn’t seem to recognize him. Then his aging face broke into a smile.

“Mr. Draugr! Do come in!”

“I need to see Krista, Giles. I will tell her myself I am here.”

The butler’s smile instantly faded. “Good Lord! Miss Krista…oh, dear me…”

The old man suddenly looked pale as death, and Leif’s chest tightened. He took a threatening step in his direction. “Where the bloody hell is she?”

“She is…she is—”

“Getting married,” Thor said in Norse, striding into the entry, followed by the lad, Jamie Suthers, and the little monkey, Alfinn, who rode on Jamie’s shoulder.

“Married! Blood of Odin, what are you talking about?”

“Her grandfather arranged it,” Thor told him. “She had to have a husband, he said. Something about a duty to her family. The professor tried to explain, but I did not catch it all.”

Leif’s hands unconsciously fisted. He understood exactly why Krista felt she had to marry. She had a duty, she had told him, and Leif understood that above all things. “What is the man’s name?”

“Mat-thew Carlton.”

Leif held in a wave of fury. “She is marrying that coldhearted bastard today?”

Thor nodded.

“Where?”

“A place called Ham-ton House.”

“I know the place. I was once there with Krista.”

“Lord Hampton’s estate is well known,” Giles said. “Any cabbie will know how to get there. But you had better hurry. It is almost time for the wedding.”

“Good luck to ye, sir!” Jamie hollered as Leif started running for the door. Thor’s footfalls pounded behind him, the two men racing out to the street to wave down a cab. In minutes they were tearing through London, Leif’s heart pounding in rhythm with the horse’s hooves.

“How much farther is it?” he asked the driver after what seemed hours.

“Just a bit more, gov’nor.”

“I’ll pay you extra to get us there as fast as you can!”

The driver whipped the horse into a faster trot, and the carriage careened wildly through the streets toward the outskirts of the city. Finally, some ways up ahead, Leif caught a glimpse of open fields, then a huge three-story mansion on a hill in the distance.