The Viking's Captive(60)

Surprise washed over Esca’s face. “Is this true?”

“Yes, despite looking like an overbearing Nordic savage, this husband of mine is actually a soft soul. He cares for me, protects me, and has provided well for the winter ahead.”

Esca puffed up his cheeks and blew out a breath. “I am lost for words.” He paused. “What am I to tell your father, Duna?”

“How is he?”

Esca shrugged and looked away.

“Tell me, please.” Was he ill? Had something befallen him? Her heart lurched.

“He remarried.”

“He did what?” Duna had hardly been able to believe the words that had come from Esca’s mouth.

“Mary McDoone lost her man Donald in the raid.” Esca threw a glare at Halvor. “So your father asked for her hand. He lives at her croft now near Broch Bay.”

“She has a big croft, backing onto the Laird’s land.”

“Yes, your father was well when I saw him last, though he grieves for you.”

“I… I am happy for him, if he is happy. Though I’m sorry he grieves so. Perhaps you can let him know that I am quite well.”

“You should come with me now and tell him yourself.” Esca nodded at Halvor. “Let me take this Shet Isle woman back to her homeland. She has no place here. It’s not her world.”

“No.” Halvor tightened his grip on her. “That is not going to happen.”

“She has family there, a life.”

“She has family here, a life, and…” He slid his palm over her belly. “And soon we are to have a child.” He kissed her softly. “We do not mind,” Halvor went on against her lips, “if we have a girl with her mother’s black as night hair, or a warrior son, we will love that child, and then we will have more. We have a big longhouse to fill with our children.”

Duna’s heart was overflowing with love, but she tore her attention from her husband and looked at Esca, willing him to understand. “I can’t go back to Shet Isle with you, Esca. My life is here now, I am happy.”

“You can’t be… not with a man who stole you away in the middle of the night. A man who has held you captive for many months and—”

Halvor held up his hand. “You should stop talking of my wife leaving; if you can hold your tongue on that subject I might invite you to cross the threshold into my longhouse to take ale, food, and shelter after your journey.”

Esca ran his hand over his hair and looked between Halvor and Duna. “This is so much to take on, to understand.”

“But you must,” Duna said. “Please.”

Esca nodded. “I will try.” He paused. “And thank you. I would be glad of your hospitality.”

“It is simple to understand,” Halvor said, tugging Duna close. “This Celt woman was my captive, that is true. But as I said, Duna is not an easy wench to handle. She has many wily ways, and the truth is, my slave has in fact conquered me, and my heart. I cannot live without her.”





Chapter Twenty-One


Two years later



Duna added sage to the broth simmering in a pot over the fire. There was boar meat in it and she knew the flavors would please her husband—and pleasing Halvor was one of the main focuses of her life now, that and caring for their son, Toby.

She smiled as she hummed a gentle tune and set Toby’s small spoon and bowl to one side. He wouldn’t be joining them for dinner tonight because this eve was special.

It had been two full sets of seasons since their wedding day, and Toby had been invited to Nadir and Asmund’s croft for his first visit alone… overnight. Nadir adored Toby. She treated him as a grandson, and loved to make him clothes from the materials she sourced. Having him there for one night and two days, she’d said, would make it easier to measure him for his new outfits.

Duna could have made him clothes, and she did. But she got the feeling it was all a bit of an excuse for Nadir and Asmund to spend time with Toby. He was a delightful child, inquisitive and cheerful, and had his father’s Nordic looks, which would make life in this land easier for him growing up.

Misty scrabbled by the grain sacks in the corner and Duna turned. “Good boy, you get that mouse for me.” He was a hard-working cat, they had few problems with mice now; in fact she had to be sure to feed Misty regularly, otherwise he couldn’t sustain himself on the dwindling rodent population.

She glanced out of the window near the fire. It was a new one; she’d persuaded Halvor they needed two openings in the longhouse, the way she’d had in her cottage on Shet Isle. It allowed for a breeze in the summer, and made it easier for her to look out and keep an eye on Toby if she was busy cooking and he was toddling around outside.

There was no sign of Ivan and Halvor on the horizon, but she didn’t think they’d be long. It had been several hours since Halvor had set off with Toby sat before him, his tiny hands gripping the steed’s mane. And she knew Halvor would be keen to get back to her. Their coupling as man and wife was somewhat limited now that their son had a keen eye and slept so light a whisper of wind could wake him.

She remembered Halvor’s words the week before.

“I need to get my seed inside you more often, my beautiful Celt. I wish for us to have lots of children. More sons, a daughter too.”