Free The Viking's Defiant Bride by Joanna Fulford

of any reply he might make. More than anything he wanted to be left alone, but his tormentor lingered still.
    â€˜You should have wed her when you had the chance.’
    â€˜Would that I had.’ Aylwin regarded him with hatred. ‘But she asked me to observe a decent period of mourning for her brother. I would not expect you to understand, Viking.’
    Wulfrum laughed. ‘I think I understand. The lady was not so keen as you to marry.’
    Aylwin reddened for the words had touched a nerve. The same thought had occurred to him too.
    â€˜You should be thankful—if you had married her, you would be dead now,’ the other went on, ‘for I would still have takenher from you. As it is, your claims on her are void and you had best accept it.’
    â€˜Never!’ The word exploded between them.
    Wulfrum smiled and, throwing the Saxon one last contemptuous look, walked away.
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    Two days later Aylwin disappeared. At first no one thought it significant. A man so badly wounded could not have gone far. However, an exhaustive search revealed nothing. Elgiva heard the news with deep concern. Even if he escaped as far as the forest, Aylwin’s weakened condition made him ill suited to such rough living and, without careful tending, he might well die. Angered that so prestigious a prisoner had slipped through their hands, the Vikings questioned everyone who had contact with him, including Elgiva and Osgifu.
    Seeing their captors so disturbed, Elgiva knew only intense satisfaction. When Wulfrum questioned her, she was able to say with perfect truth that she knew nothing of the matter. However, she was unable to hide her feelings with complete success, a fact that he did not fail to note.
    â€˜He could not have gone far alone. He must have had help.’
    â€˜That is possible, lord,’ she replied.
    â€˜Who was it?’
    â€˜I don’t know.’
    â€˜But you wouldn’t tell me if you did know.’
    â€˜No.’
    It was a reply that was both honest and impudent in equal measure. With an effort, he curbed the urge to seize and shake her soundly. For all that air of quiet calm, the vixen was enjoying this. He didn’t think for a moment that she was personally responsible for Aylwin’s escape—she was under guard in the women’s bower at night—but her relief when they failed to find him had been quite evident. Perhaps she wasn’t as indifferent to the Saxon as he had first believed. The thought didnothing to improve his temper and he dismissed her before he did something he might later regret.
    Relieved to be out of that unnerving presence, Elgiva returned to her work among the injured, conscious the while of the brooding blue gaze that watched her every move. The Viking would not find Aylwin now, she was sure of it. If he died, his friends would bury him in secret: if he lived, they would get him away to a place of greater safety—somewhere the Danes held no sway. The thought filled her with fierce pleasure and only with difficulty could she hide her elation. She might not have loved Aylwin, but she did rejoice in his freedom.
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    Unwilling to dwell too long on the chances of her former betrothed, Elgiva put her mind to more immediately pressing matters. Chief of these was the welfare of her nephews. After their recent treatment at the hands of the invaders she kept a watchful eye on them. Pybba was too young to know how near he could have been to death but, for some days after the coming of the Vikings, Ulric clung to Hilda, his nursemaid, staring wide-eyed and silent from behind her skirts if any of the men appeared. Elgiva, touched by his vulnerability, would take him on her knee and sing to him and he would snuggle against her, seeking her warmth and gentleness. With her and Hilda he knew he was safe.
    In spite of her other responsibilities Elgiva spent time each day with the children. She also kept an eye on Hilda for the girl had suffered at