He glanced at the door, then back at her. ‘Perhaps you should have sent one in here in your stead.’
Her natural indignation made her bristle. ‘I can take care of myself.’
It was the wrong thing to say. She had come in here expecting to play a ruse, to pretend to be a seductress to lure him outside into an assignation. Barring that, she would play the helpless widow in need of his help. Antagonising him would not get her far. She smiled at him to soften the words.
‘That is obvious.’ He glanced over his shoulder at the man she had offended. The sailor had made a move to rise, but one of his friends had pulled him back into his seat. Whether he meant to come over and make her sorry for embarrassing him in front of his friends, or if he was simply attempting to totter off into the night, she did not know.
Turning his attention back to her, the Norseman asked, ‘Do you often travel alone, taking care of yourself?’
‘You ask many questions for a man whose name I do not know. Do you travel alone?’
His gaze touched her face, stroking over her brow and then down to her mouth before settling on her eyes again. It was reminiscent of the seductive way she had looked at him just moments before and it made something exciting flicker to life in her belly.
‘Sometimes,’ he said and it was a moment more before she realised he was answering her question.
How was she so terrible at this? Before she could gather her thoughts, he threw back the last of his ale and said, ‘Be careful who you allow to purchase your ale. He might expect some sort of repayment.’ The tankard echoed with a hollow thump when he set it down.
She tensed, certain that he was about to walk away and she would miss her opportunity. They had failed in their attempt to find out where he had secured lodgings. It was entirely possible he would go upstairs or bed down in the common room and she would not get him alone. Her mind swirling with the possibility of failure, she placed her hand on his arm again. ‘Were my answers repayment enough or were you expecting more?’
Annis had never played the seductress in her life, not even with her husband, but she had to do it. Her thumb stroked against the inside of his wrist. She allowed her gaze to trace lazily across his features, as if she were anticipating him asking for more.
Leaning down to be closer to her, the Norseman spoke and his breath brushed across her cheek. ‘Finish your ale, woman, before you take on more than you can handle.’
‘You never answered my question.’ When he raised a brow, she asked again. ‘Are you alone?’ It was a valid question. She needed to know if anyone would miss him. Cedric and his men hadn’t yet been able to figure out if he was travelling with companions.
‘Am I with a woman?’ He tossed her response back at her with a teasing gleam in his eyes. ‘There is no woman.’
‘Not even at home?’
The glimmer of dark humour flickered out. ‘I have no home.’
‘Then you’ve come to Glannoventa to stay?’
He shook his head and glanced to the table where the men’s voices had grown louder. ‘Passing through.’
Before she could respond to that, someone dragged the hood down off her head. She turned to face a man she did not recognise. He was likely a fisherman. The stench of fish rose off him and a few scales clung to his shirt sleeve. Instead of letting her go, he twisted the fabric of the hood in his fist. Her palm itched to grab the dagger at her hip, but she didn’t want to reveal its presence.
Towering over her while giving her a lascivious grin, he asked, ‘You alone, wench?’
‘Release my cloak.’ Her words came out with the full authority she had accumulated over her years as the Lady of Mulcasterhas.
Both the fisherman and the Norseman paused in obvious shock. Her assailant recovered quickly and gave her a crude grin as he realised she must be alone since no one had stood up to challenge him. He opened his mouth to speak, but that was as far as he got before the Norseman stepped forward and grabbed him by his throat. A choking sound was the only thing she heard. She gasped at how quickly the Norseman had moved and she jumped back, dropping her ale on to the straw-covered floor.
Across the room, Alder, her most trusted warrior, stood, but she quickly shook her head to warn him away. The Norseman had things under control. The fisherman had released her and was now grabbing the Norseman’s arm with both hands to loosen his grip. The tips of his toes worked for purchase on the floor, but it was clearly a fight he was losing.
‘Leave here.’ The Norseman spoke with a calmness that belied the fact that he was in the process of strangling a man.
The man gave a jerky nod as well as he was able and found himself immediately released. He sank to the floor, gasping for breath, before finding his feet and disappearing through the crowd.
‘We need to go, too.’ The Norseman’s gaze took in the room, as if expecting the man’s friends to make themselves known.
She nodded and stepped over her fallen tankard as he took her arm to lead her outside. This was not how she had planned to get him to leave with her, but she would not argue if it got him out the door.
‘Where are you staying the night?’ he asked once they were outside. The tavern’s door closed behind them with a hearty thud, muffling the voices inside. He showed no
