Free A Viking For The Viscountess by Michelle Willingham Page A

never been inside a fortress of this size before, and as he followed her through the rooms, he saw foreign objects that he didn’t recognize. With every step, he grew more wary of his environment. Uneasiness crept beneath his skin, and he gripped his battle-ax.
    Juliana walked over to a tall wooden box, adjusting some weights and twisting a metal object across the numbered face. He passed by the strange object, and when a loud gong resounded from within it, he swung his ax without thinking.
    The blade bit into the rectangular structure, which continued to make loud noises. He lifted his weapon, prepared to swing again, when Juliana gave a cry of alarm.
    “It’s a grandfather clock, Thorgrim. Nothing more.” She let out a dismayed sigh as he lowered the ax.
    He didn’t know what a “clock” was, but the wooden structure was making a ticking sound that unnerved him. Everything, from the soft carpet beneath his feet to the elaborate textiles upon the furnishings, made him more aware that he was no longer within his own time. He knew nothing of this world, not even what was dangerous or what was safe. How could he even hope to protect Juliana when he didn’t understand anything about this place?
    When he had been inside Juliana’s home, the interior had reminded him of his own dwelling. Simple and unadorned, with only a bed pallet and a hearth, along with a few belongings.
    But this…this was too much.
    His head ached, trying to absorb it all. The floor coverings were woven in a rare pattern, likely from the lands far to the East. Silver candlesticks rested upon furnishings, and he spied a large object with a panel of white and black rectangular pieces. When he touched one, it let out a high-pitched musical sound.
    He sat down in a chair, his gaze stony, while he fastened the ax at his waist. Tall glass windows let in the light, and the grim morning clouds reflected his mood.
    “Are you all right?” Juliana asked.
    He could give her no answer. She moved closer, studying him with concerned eyes. He could smell her skin, and the floral aroma pulled him back to her. Though he could not understand what was happening, or why he’d been brought here, he reached for her hand and gripped it.
    “You’re cold,” she said, rubbing his hand with hers. “Are you not feeling well?”
    “I’ve never seen a place such as this,” he admitted. “With objects that make noises and wealth greater than a king’s.”
    She stared at him, and likely she believed he’d gone soft in the head. She couldn’t accept that a soul could travel across time. Nor had he truly believed it until now, when he was faced with so many unusual objects.
    He drew Juliana between his knees, just holding her hands. She was his anchor to the world, steadying him through this terrible dream.
    “Perhaps we should return to my father’s house,” she suggested.
    Inwardly, he wanted to, but that was a coward’s path. He couldn’t allow his own fears to dominate what must be done. “Not yet. Show me the rest.”
    She led him through a labyrinth of rooms, and as they walked, he noticed her graceful movement and the way she held herself like a queen. This was why the gods had brought him to her. Juliana of Arthur had fallen from her throne, and her son would be heir to these lands.
    But there was one door she did not open. She started to turn around, but he paused. “What lies inside that chamber?”
    “My husband’s room,” she admitted. “It has a connecting door to mine, but I see no reason to go inside.” There was a darkness upon her face, the look of a woman who had experienced pain. Without asking for her permission, Arik approached the door and opened it.
    The interior smelled as if it had not been aired out in years, and a thin layer of dust covered the furnishings. Juliana followed him with reluctance. She opened one of the large window coverings, coughing as she did so.
    Morning sunlight spilled into the room. A large bed stood in the