Her heart stopped when a man came through the doorway. Jarl Eirik walked like someone determined to get to his destination, his long powerful legs eating up the distance. A handful of men followed him into the hall, but she knew that there were at least a score more waiting in the courtyard, and possibly triple that waiting in the lands and forest surrounding Mulcasterhas. She held her shoulders rigid as he came closer. His tunic was weathered and lightly soiled from days in the saddle, and his blond hair was left to fall around his shoulders, looking more unkempt than she had ever seen him. Though she conceded that she had never seen him arrive with such haste.
With the eyes of a woman, and not the girl she had still been in many ways the last time she had seen the Jarl, she could admit that he was quite attractive. At only a few years over thirty winters, he was still virile and commanding, exuding confidence and authority. His eyes gave her a quick glance, but they settled on Rurik as if identifying a threat and sizing up an enemy. For his part, Rurik had donned the weapons he had arrived with, not that he would need them. Her stomach roiled, but she did not allow it to hinder her. She would not be cowed by the Jarl.
‘Good day, Uncle.’ She made certain that her voice was strong and even. ‘I hope your trip was uneventful.’
He seemed reluctant to take his eyes from Rurik, but he finally looked at her. ‘What is the meaning of this, Lady Annis? I have been told that you are wed to a Norseman. I presume this to be him?’
She had hoped that bit of information would be left for her to reveal. It had probably been too much to hope for. ‘Uncle, I would like to present Rurik from the Kingdom of Maerr, my husband. We were wed last night.’
‘Maerr?’ His brows drew together. ‘By the gods, you were meant to marry a Dane!’
Her heart pounded against her ribcage and she glanced at the handful of men fanned out behind him. They were all younger than the Jarl, warriors in their prime. She had no doubt that the man he intended her to wed was among them, but she did not care. ‘I always maintained that I would only wed the man of my choosing. And I have chosen Rurik.’
‘That was not your choice to make, unfortunately.’ He shook his head. ‘It is not valid. He was not approved by me or your King.’
‘It is valid.’ Rurik spoke for the first time, impressing her with the volume and vehemence of his tone. ‘Vows were exchanged and it was consummated. There are witnesses if you care to confirm it for yourself.’ His hand briefly left her back to indicate Cedric whom she had forgotten was standing a few paces behind them. Several warriors waited around the periphery of the chamber, but it had been decided that to keep things calm it would be best not to meet the Jarl with an army at their back.
‘You allowed this to happen?’ the Jarl asked Cedric, his eyes accusing.
‘There was no King to consider when they were wed. However, even if there had been, the wedding will stand,’ Cedric answered as he walked the few steps necessary to stand on her other side.
‘That does not answer my question.’
Cedric took in a weary breath. ‘You know that Wilfrid would rather die than see her wed to a Dane. He has pledged you his loyalty, but he refuses to give you his daughter. This cannot come as such a shock to you.’
Jarl Eirik’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. ‘Then why is he not here to tell me that himself?’
‘Wilfrid is ill,’ offered Annis.
A vein in the Jarl’s temple throbbed as he stared from her to Cedric, as if wondering how much of the truth they were telling him. ‘Take me to him.’
Annis had known that it would come to this, but the knowing did not make the actual facing of it any easier. He would see how ill Wilfrid truly was and demand an explanation for why he had not been told. It could not be helped, however, so she gave a nod and led the way to Wilfrid’s chamber with Rurik at her side and Cedric falling in line behind them.
There was no need to knock on the door, because Wilfrid had been prepared for the meeting. He sat at his table, staring at the door. Though his colour was still not very good and he sagged a bit, obviously tired, Irwin had dressed him in his finery. Pain squeezed her heart as she noticed the tunic looked far too big for him. How much longer would he be with them?
‘Lord Wilfrid, it is good to see you,’ Jarl Eirik said as they all filed into the chamber.
‘Welcome, Jarl Eirik.’
Annis watched the Jarl’s face as he registered Wilfrid’s irregular speech. His brows lowered and he glanced at her before addressing Wilfrid. ‘How are you feeling?’ He walked closer, as if studying Wilfrid to note all the signs of his illness.
‘Good, good,’ Wilfrid said, though clearly he was not at his best. ‘Annis and Rurik...’ He gestured with his good arm, drawing Jarl Eirik’s attention to the fact that his other arm was all but immobile.
Her heart broke that they had to go through this needless display. ‘We shared our good news,’ she said, drawing the Jarl’s attention back to her as she went to stand beside Wilfrid. ‘The Jarl was overjoyed.’ She gave both men a wry smile.
Wilfrid gave a bark of laughter, his shoulders shaking with the effort. When he finished, he was still smiling, eyes crinkling in the way that had always made her think he had probably been
