Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,9

she depart her father and mother’s home.

She smiled. “When we wed and I have more experience, better I will like such intimacies.”

He grinned. “I should get us supper?”

“I am hungry.”

Once he departed, she clambered into the hammock, a contraption she had enjoyed years past when she made the crossing from Normandy to England.

Though another woman and several men on their ship had become violently ill when the sea turned temperamental, not Nicola D’Argent. Her stomach had tossed a bit, but that was all. And greatly her brothers had been impressed, as they would be now if they could see how well she dealt with this setback.

If they could overlook the fool you were that landed you here, an inner voice reminded. And there was no way to hide it from them. Once her cousin, Maël, was freed, they would have the tale in full.

She raised her eyes to the sailcloth ceiling over which light and shadows convulsed, evidencing torches were being lit. Thoughts drifting first to Maël, next Mercia, then Vitalis who might have perished, she slipped fingers into her bodice and withdrew the piece cut from King William’s mantle.

“Accursed Vitalis,” she whispered as she eyed the embroidery. “Knave,” she grumbled as she traced the embroidered letters of her king’s name and title. “David lived and took the throne. You…”

She closed her fingers around the cloth. “You had best live, Vitalis. Much you have to answer for.”

Chapter Two

East Anglia, England

Late Spring, 1070

Ten days after Bjorn hid the lady aboard one of his sire’s vessels, finally it was possible to draw near enough to form a plan that allowed Vitalis to keep his word to Hawisa regarding her sister-in-law—providing Lady Nicola had, indeed, arrived in East Anglia.

As for restoring the abbess to Lillefarne, it had been necessary to leave her to Sir Maël who was still held on the same ship when Vitalis and Zedekiah departed the Humber to ride south to East Anglia where King Sweyn had sent his brother to raid that region. Once the war chests emptied by the quest to oust William were refilled, would Sweyn and his forces shake off the dust of England and return to Denmark?

Likely, Vitalis concluded for the dozenth time and returned his attention to this day. Hopefully, Lady Nicola and Bjorn had been aboard one of the raiding ships that earlier dropped anchor beyond the gaping mouth of the Great Ouse River where it emptied into the sea.

“’Tis too distant to be certain,” Zedekiah said, leaning forward in his saddle, “but on the fourth boat I caught a flash of silver amid black.”

Hoping Lady Nicola was seated among the men rowing to the marshy shore, Vitalis considered that boat. Minutes later, he glimpsed what his man had. Though Danes were partial to long hair, most were fair unlike Nicola.

The horse shifting beneath him, Vitalis patted its neck. “Patience, my friend. We wait on the vixen.”

“Termagant,” Zedekiah muttered.

Unable to argue the man’s right to look ill upon the lady responsible for the long watch over the Danes and the merciless ride south, Vitalis returned his regard to the fourth rowboat nearing the shore. If that was her, here proof that whatever her attempts to escape Bjorn, she had failed.

“I am fair certain it is her,” Zedekiah said.

As was Vitalis, and relieved since one of the ships anchored outside the Humber had disappeared one night following a great storm. Having stolen upon Danes camped near the shore, Vitalis had learned the vessel lost its moorings and was at the bottom of the sea. Just as it had been possible the lady had perished beneath the waves, he had considered the earl made use of the storm to send Bjorn back to Denmark with her. If the latter, the D’Argents would retrieve Nicola no matter the bloodshed.

“What say you?” Zedekiah prompted.

In this area of the fens bordering the narrow sea, there was too little cover to closely spy on those who would soon make land, and more difficult with half a dozen warriors seated ahead of the one whose dark hair might or might not be silvered.

When once more the sun parted the clouds, it ran its light down those strands as the woman lurched upright. And was snatched back down.

“Aye, Lady Nicola,” Zedekiah said, “and methinks she no longer plays Bjorn’s willing betrothed.”

Vitalis tensed. Often he mulled what had transpired in the days since the young Dane carried Nicola from the inn. Had she lost patience playing a part without benefit to her?