Free The Warlord's Wife by Sandra Lake

kiss her and not intend to wed her. It is not a wise way of earning a living, my love. Some women have little opportunity and some are forced, but some are sometimes foolish, or brought up poorly. So they think it is easier to let men paw at them, but they should not. It is not a good life for any woman. The word ‘whore’ is nasty and I wish you never to call anyone that, ever. Do you understand?” Lida was fearful that her daughter would not, and then she would have to try and explain again.
    “Oh, now I get it. A whore is someone that kisses boys she is not wed to. In that case, Mama, Aunty Tina is one.”
    “Katia! Do not say such a nasty thing. You misunderstand still. Uncle Svin wed her. He is allowed to kiss her.”
    “But she did not wed Ulla’s brother, Lasse.”
    “What! Oh no.”
    “I was chasing Mada and she ran up the tree on Ulla’s side. I climbed up and I saw Lasse kissing and wrestling with Aunty Tina in the tall grass. It is strange to wrestle and kiss at the same time, Mama.”
    “Yes, my love, very strange.”
    Tero started to snicker.
    Lida let out a long sigh. Poor Svin—wait, not poor Svin. Svin was the reason she was on this forlorn voyage.
    “The jarl’s gift did not please you?” Tero asked, changing the subject. He looked to her brown cloak.
    “My cloak is in excellent repair and very warm,” Lida replied.
    “In Tronscar, the white bear is the symbol of great authority, of your new, elevated position,” Tero said, his tone climbing higher with his brows. “The jarl killed that bear himself in expectation of his new bride.”
    Her daughter twisted her face back and forth, listening to every word.
    “Did he indeed?” Lida smiled for her daughter’s benefit. “How nice for him.”
    “Mama, are you that big man’s bride?” her daughter asked, pointing over Lida’s shoulder. Chastising herself internally, Lida remembered that she had not explained anything to Katia, and her little ears were certain to be pricked by the word “bride.” She’d been more than a little obsessed with the idea of brides ever since Peter brought his wife home.
    “Yes, my sweet,” Lida said, tucking her daughter’s hair behind her ear. “Last night your mama wed Jarl Magnus. He has promised to take extremely good care of us, as long as we have proper manners to him.”
    Her daughter appeared confused. That made two of them. “You are not wed to my father anymore? He is in heaven so you can be a bride two times?”
    “Yes, my love, that is right. It does not change my love for your father or the fact that you are his beautiful daughter. It simply means—well—that now we will make a new family with the jarl. Would you like to have a sister or brother one day?”
    “Oh yes, Mama, please. Can we have a babe just like Layla? She is so pretty, Mama, and her fingers and toes are so small.” Katia wiggled with excitement.
    “I will do my best, I promise you that. Are you hungry? Shall I fetch us some of the biscuits that grandma sent?” Lida’s smiled was torn from her lips when she heard a grunt and turned to see the razor-sharp glare of the jarl, who had been standing inches behind her. How much of that had he just heard? Should she offer him an apology to defuse his anger? No—she had nothing to apologize for. She had said nothing wrong. She had spoken the truth as simply as she could for her child. “Are you hungry, Jarl Magnus? I am about to fetch Katia and myself some refreshment.”
    “Nay.”
    Nay, he did not want refreshment, or nay, she was not permitted to feed her child?
    “Mikko, your friherrinna and the girl want refreshment.” Jarl Magus growled out his words but never looked away from her. How did he even know his servant was standing behind him to hear his command? She was rapidly discovering that he was a very hard man to please.
    With the white fur cloak in his hand, the jarl stared at her brown cloak. “Did your father kill this bear?” Jarl Magnus tugged at her