Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 03] Read Free Page A

his mistaken notion of her age could work to her benefit. After her one distasteful—nay, disastrous—encounter with a man’s lustful inclinations, she had no wish for any other. Warming to her role, Eadyth almost smiled as she hunched her shoulders slightly and forced a cronish cackle into her voice, evading his question. “Heh! Heh! Heh! ’Twould seem my age is of no importance if you wish to breed no heirs. In fact, it could work to both our advantages.”
    His interest sparked, Eirik raked his fingers through the coal black hair which reached to his shoulders. He brushed his mustache distractedly, a trait she had noticed several times as he watched her like a wary bird—yea, the raven that he was. And he squinted often. Finally, he arched his eyebrows questioningly over translucent blue eyes.
    Holy Virgin! A woman could drown in their mesmerizingdepths, Eadyth admitted to herself, then mentally berated herself for the thought. In truth, Eirik was not as handsome as Steven, the cause of her problems. Steven’s polished veneer and delicately proportioned features approached perfection, while Eirik’s rugged beauty was too blatantly virile, his sharp edges too powerfully masculine for Eadyth’s tastes. In an odd way, he frightened her.
    Forcing herself back to the matter at hand, she went on, “Let me be blunt—”
    “Why stop now?”
    Eadyth shot Eirik a withering look. She would ignore his jibe for now. But she could not stop her fists from clenching and unclenching convulsively as she spoke. Blessed Lord, humility came sore hard for her to swallow.
    “I need to marry as soon as possible. My husband must be able to lead men if it comes to fighting, but more important is political cunning—a talent for politics, avoiding a confrontation, if possible. Do you understand my meaning?”
    “Why me?” Eirik asked curtly. “’Tis obvious you are not attracted by my innumerable charms.”
    He was watching with interest the revealing action of her nervous hands. Eadyth willed herself to composure. He saw too much. At the same time, he did not see her true appearance. How odd!
    And his flippant remark about “charms” annoyed her. Did he play with her, regarding her reluctant proposal as an excuse to make sport with her? Of course, he did. To his mind, she was well past the age for being interested in a man’s endowments.
    Enough! She wasted precious time tiptoeing around the dangerous issue at hand. He said he valued honesty. Well, she would give him a fair dose and show him what she thought of his “charms,” as well.
    “’Tis true, I am not overwhelmed with lust for your godly handsome body,” Eadyth remarked sarcastically. “Nor do my bones melt in your manly presence. I could even bear to be in your company for a short while without swooning inadoration, I wager. In truth, I would as soon wed your loathsome dog as you, if ‘twould solve my problems.” Eadyth saw the muscles tense in his tight jaw. Good! She had his full attention now—no more smirks or veiled allusions. “But your hound would not suit at all, you see, because it does not have your blue eyes…or black hair. Did I not mention afore, those are important requisites for my groom.”
    “Blue eyes! Black hair!” Eirik sputtered. “Have a caution, wench, you overstep yourself. And you waste my time with foolish talk of physical attributes. I do not wish to wed, especially not to a coarse-tongued, waspish harpy. And that is my final word on the subject.” He stood as if their meeting was at an end.
    Eadyth’s hopes withered under his scornful words, and a rush of alarm swept over her. Once again, she had let her repugnance for a forced marriage overshadow her reason.
    “Here,” she said quickly, shoving a document into his hands. “Mayhap you should consider what you so blithely toss aside.”
    Eirik stared at her in stony silence, but finally he looked at the document, holding it at arm’s length. He scanned the words and figures