Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It was the comforting scent that told Dunne who was holding her in his arms.

For a moment, as she'd emerged from the mist she was drowning in, she had thought she was floating. She could feel that she was moving, but her feet were not touching the ground. How was that possible? Where was she? Who was holding her? And then she had smelled it. Yeast, herbs, fresh air, man. Bj?rn. No one else smelled like him.

Where was he taking her?

"Bj?rn?" Was that her voice? She barely recognized it.

"I'm here, I've got you. You're safe. I've got you."

Safe from what? Her mind was too fuzzy to think straight. She stopped fighting the pull of sleep and rested her head against his shoulder. A moment later she heard another voice. A woman, familiar as well. Birgit.

"Dunne! Dear God, what happened to you?"

"I don't know," she mumbled. What had happened? It felt as if something had, but she could not quite place it.

She felt Bj?rn deposit her onto the pallet and heard only a few whispered words, pronounced in a deep masculine rumble. Drunk. Bastard. Arrived in time. She could feel darkness invading her, stealing over every corner of her mind, but she fought it with all her might. She needed to understand what was happening, why she felt so wretched, why Bj?rn sounded so furious and Birgit so worried.

A cool hand settled on her forehead. Her sister spoke again, her voice coming from just above her. "Someone should stay with her. I can't, what with Edita being so poorly. I only came back to the hut to get her favorite blanket, she?—"

"I will stay here, don't worry. Go take care of your daughter."

There was a pause, then the sound of a door closing. Just as she drifted into oblivion, Dunne thought she heard Bj?rn speak again.

"And I will take care of my woman."

Her bodice was torn, one of her breasts was exposed. Dunne covered it with a frown. What the?—

"Good morning." Birgit was kneeling by her side. Though her sister was smiling, she looked pale and tired. "I'm glad to see you awake at last. Do you know where Bj?rn is? I wanted to thank him for offering to stay here last night while I slept in Ragild's hut."

What was that? Bj?rn had spent the night in the hut with her while Birgit had slept in Ragild's hut? Whatever for?

"Why did you sleep there?" Her heart started thudding as one explanation for this unusual decision crossed her mind. Had her sister meant to give her and Bj?rn some time alone because she'd noticed something was brewing between them? Did that mean she approved of him?

Before she could work herself into a lather, Birgit answered. "Edita fell prey to a fever yesterday. Ragild and I took turns looking after her."

Guilt invaded Dunne. All night her sister had been by her daughter's side, worrying herself sick while she'd been sleeping away, oblivious to it all. She tried to sit up and winced when a bolt of pain split her skull. "My God. Is she all?—"

"She's better, thank you. The fever broke at dawn. But I was relieved to know you weren't on your own in the state you were in. Bj?rn offered to stay with you when he saw I could not." Birgit tilted her head in consideration. "You probably don't remember any of it. You had drunk a lot, by all accounts."

Yes, she must have. That would explain the pounding in her head and the odd taste in her mouth. She frowned, then dread pierced though her. If Bj?rn had slept in the pallet with her while she was out of her mind with drink, did that mean they…

Her heart started to drum in her chest. Had they slept together? Had she thrown herself at him, begging for another night of wild passion? She had been battling her desire for him for days, in fact, that was why she had started to drink last night. If they had made mad, passionate love, it would explain the state she was in, for she had not ripped at her clothes herself. She glanced down and found that her gown had moved during her conversation with her sister and her breast was exposed again.

Birgit nodded pensively when Dunne covered herself but didn't ask any explanation. That struck her as odd, but her sister spoke before she could ask anything.

"Let me get you something to wear while you repair your dress." She went to the chest under the window, extracted a bundle of clothes from it, place it on the table, then went back to the chest to retrieve a small wooden box that had belonged to their mother. "There is a needle and thread in the box. I will go back to Edita now. She will be asking after me."

Birgit spoke matter-of-factly. This only added to Dunne's dread. Why was her sister not worried about her? She should be asking if she was all right and wondering how she had ended up with a torn bodice after spending the night alone with a man. It would be the normal thing to do. Unless…unless she assumed she and Bj?rn were lovers, assumed that they had become so overcome with lust during the night that they had torn at each other's clothes. Yes, in that case, she would not wonder, and even try not to draw attention to it.

Except that they weren't lovers! She and Bj?rn had not slept together since that day in the Norsemen village. Or…

Had they?

Considering she could not remember anything from the night before, it was all too possible they had.

When her sister left, she got up and swapped her dress with the one waiting on the table. It was too tight across the chest, but she did not let that worry her. She had to go to Bj?rn without delay and find out what had happened last night. If he had slept in the hut, he might well have slept in the pallet with her. It was big enough to accommodate two people and more comfortable than the earth floor.

But had he only slept next to her, or had he drawn her into his arms, kissed her and begged for more? Had she agreed? The uncertainty was killing her. Never again would she drink to such excess! She had wanted to forget and she'd succeeded. Now all she wanted was to remember if she had made a fool of herself with Bj?rn.

She found him almost immediately, soaking up the sunshine by the main hall. Taking in a deep breath, she walked forward.

Bj?rn watched Dunne walk up to him. Despite the determined stride, she was pale and disheveled. She probably had a throbbing headache as well, courtesy of Orvyn's foul beverage. The russet dress she was wearing was not the one she'd been wearing the night before—and it was too tight for her. He forced himself not to dwell on the way her breasts were threatening to spill out of the low-cut bodice. The dress must belong to Birgit, who was not as well endowed as her sister.

When she stopped in front of him, he saw that her eyes were veiled with uncertainty, the gold in them not as vibrant as usual.

"Good morning."

She did not acknowledge the greeting and instead launched her attack. "Birgit told me you slept in the hut with me last night."

"I did." He waited, sensing something was troubling her. Perhaps she was embarrassed he had seen her naked breast. There was no need. The sight had roused his ire rather than his blood.

"Did you…Did we…?"

Bj?rn stared at her in consternation. The questions she hadn't dared voice were not hard to guess—and offended him deeply.

Did you take advantage of me last night and rip my bodice open when I refused to undress? Did we sleep together while I was too weak to protest, even though I made it clear that's not what I wanted the other day?

"No," he said through gritted teeth. "We didn't sleep together. Who do you take me for? I only stayed to make sure you were all right. You were too drunk to be alone."

"I think I was. Which is why I cannot remember what happened."

He blinked. Didn't she have any memory of being assaulted? Evidently not, otherwise she wouldn't think to accuse him of any wrongdoing.

"Well, I have all my faculties, I remember everything, and I am telling you we did not sleep together, not in that way, at least," he said, articulating every word carefully. He could not leave any doubt about his conduct in her mind. "I did lie on the pallet next to you because I did not see any reasons not to, but I swear I did not touch you. I know you don't want me to do so, and, anyway, I wouldn't bed a woman who could not think straight."

"So what happened? Something must have. I didn't end up with my bodice ripped open by acci?—"

"Something did happen but not with me! Bloody hell, do you really think I would…" He grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked at it. Apparently, she did. If she trusted him, she wouldn't have asked the question.

Dunne's bewilderment was not feigned, though. She truly had no idea what had happened to her. Perhaps he should tell her about the assault she had been a victim of. But he didn't see why he should help her when she was accusing him of such villainy.

And what was there to say she would believe him anyway? If she wanted the truth about what had happened to her dress, she would have to ask her sister.

"A word of advice," he hissed. "Next time a man who makes ale offers you a drink, refuse."

Before she could answer, he stormed away, aiming toward the lake. With luck he would be able to swim his anger off.

A man who brewed ale? Dunne didn't understand. The only man she knew who did that was Bj?rn. So what was he saying? He could not at the same time be refuting what had happened and be warning her about himself?

While she was debating on her next course of action, a voice called out from the other side of the hall.

"Here you are, man. The cask of ale you requested. I hope you put it to good use."

Everything fell into place at the sound of that voice. A man offering her a drink he'd brewed himself, her back hurting on the cold, hard floor of his hut, her bodice being torn while she lay powerless under him. Orvyn. He had been the one trying to seduce her last night, not Bj?rn. Bj?rn had been the one carrying her away from her attacker. And she had gone and accused him of unspeakable deeds.

Oh, what had she done?

She set off in the direction he'd disappeared, hoping he hadn't gone too far. She had to apologize to him. Now.

She found him throwing stones into the lake. She had never seen anyone throw them in such an odd way before. He angled his body to the side as he threw the stones one by one with a brisk but elegant flick of the wrist.

This man really was like no other. He did everything other people did, but in his own way. And the results were always marvelous. Instead of simply falling into the water, the stones flew over it, skipping as they went, faster and faster until they sank under the surface in a flurry of ripples. It was beautiful. Like him. And she had accused him of an unspeakable crime.

"Bj?rn, I'm so sorry."

A grunt answered her. He didn't look her way; he simply selected another stone and threw it even further than the previous one. Despite the discouraging reaction, she persisted. This was not about her and her pride, it was about him. She had to tell him she did not believe him capable of such villainy. If she had to beg for his forgiveness, then she would.

"It was not you, I know that now, it was Orvyn. But I woke up in bed with my dress ripped and the impression of something gone wrong. Then I was told you slept alone with me in the hut. What else could I think?"

Dropping the stone he had just picked up he turned to face her slowly. Ominously.

"I'll tell you what you should have thought, shall I? You were supposed to trust that I would respect your wishes. That I would never dare touch a woman without her consent." He bore a hole into her skull with the intensity of his stare. "We traveled alone together for two days and even slept in each other's arms one night. I could have tried to submit you to my will any time, even without the help of some awful ale. I am three times as strong as you, I could have done what I wanted with you while we were alone, but I did not, because I would never do or even think of doing anything like that. Damn it, Dunne, I thought you knew me better than this!"

"I do, I'm sorry. Only, I?—"

"And another thing." He didn't appear to have heard her. Perhaps he hadn't, after all she had spoken barely above a whisper. "Why did you drink the man's foul concoction? You must have tasted how strong it was?"

"Of course, I did!" she all but shouted. "But that was precisely why I drank it! Because I wanted to forget."

He recoiled. Evidently he had not expected this answer. "Forget what?"

How much I want you! I wanted to forget how confused I was for a moment, forget the shame of having dreamed of you making love to me while I lay next to my sister, my daughter!

"Never mind," Bj?rn said when she remained silent. "Just…promise me you'll never do anything like that again."

"I promise. I will never accuse you of wrongdoing again."

He pinched the bridge of his nose like a man praying for patience. "I meant trusting a man who brews ale when he?—"

"I know. But I'm saying I trust you. Please forgive me for hurting you." She fought a sob. "This is such a mess!"

"Ah, Dunne." With a sigh Bj?rn drew her into his embrace. "Don't cry. I'm sorry too, for shouting at you. Of course, upon waking up with a torn bodice after a night spent next to a man, you would assume he?—"

"No. You're right. I should never have thought you capable of such a deed. I swear I will never doubt you again."

"Thank you."

For a moment Dunne allowed herself to bathe in the wonderful embrace. Then with effort, she left the comfort of his arms.

"What did happen last night then?" She now knew who had attacked her but there were still pieces missing. She needed to know.

Bj?rn closed his eyes like a man in pain. "When Birgit told me she hadn't seen you for a while I guessed something wasn't right. While I looked for you, I ran into Adaline who told me she had seen you with Orvyn. As I reached his hut, I heard him threatening you through the door. I kicked it open and found you on the floor with your dress torn and that bastard slobbering all over you."

Dunned shivered, as much at the idea of being used so, as at the hatred on Bj?rn's face. "Did he…Did he have time to…"

She could not remember anything; she had no idea if Bj?rn had arrived in time to stop the assault or if she had been raped. How terrible.

"No," was Bj?rn's soothing answer. "I arrived in time."

She took in a deep breath. She hadn't thought the irreparable had been committed, but, all the same, it was good to have it confirmed.

"What did you do to him?" The glint in his eyes spoke of murder and only the fact that she had heard Orvyn's voice earlier assured her that he had not killed him.

"Nothing. But I did warn him never to touch you or any unwilling woman again."

"You sound as if you regret it."

"I do. I should have?—"

"No." She didn't want to think of anyone being hurt through her fault, or Bj?rn having murder on his conscience because of her. "You arrived in time, that's what matters."

Without him she would have been raped, just like her sister Frigyth had been four years ago. The only difference was, she would not have been conscious during the assault and would not have remembered it in the morning. Or…She shook her head. Surely she would have noticed something was not right. She would have felt the ache between her thighs, and the sticky wetness left from her attacker's release. How would she have borne it?

And then…If at the end of the month her courses failed to arrive, what would she have thought? She would have forever asked herself if the babe was Bj?rn's, conceived in a moment of passion and unbelievable pleasure or if it had been imposed on her by a man she didn't even know, a man who'd taken her without her consent. The possibility was too dire to contemplate.

Frigyth had been through the pain of having to bear her attacker's child. But the little boy was now being raised and loved by her husband, Sigurd, who had refused to let her face this alone and loved him as his own.

"Thank you," she whispered, bowing her head. "I owe you more than I can say."

Bj?rn placed a finger under Dunne's chin to lift her head up. "You don't need to thank me. I would have done the same for anyone. For you, I should have done much more."

How would he ever get the image of the foul man bent over her out of his head? He hadn't gone to see Orvyn this morning, knowing that if he caught even a glimpse of the man, he would hit him. And then he would hit him again when he tried to justify his unjustifiable deed. He would not stop until the scoundrel was lying in a pool of blood, dead.

Before he could think better of it, Bj?rn placed his lips over Dunne's. It was a kiss different from the ones he had given her the other day, not a kiss meant to seduce, but to reassure. He poured his soul into it and felt her respond.

When he drew back, he was trembling with the effort of holding on to his composure.

"Forgive me. I just said I would never take advantage of you and I?—"

"You didn't take advantage of me. You kissed me, it's not the same. And, in truth, I wanted to be kissed."

She looked startled by the admission, as if she had not realized what she'd wanted until she had acknowledged it out loud. Was he finally making progress? He dearly hoped so because more than ever, he wanted to marry this woman. Last night when he had claimed she belonged to him, he hadn't lied. That was exactly what it felt like. She was his. And he was hers. If she was finally starting to accept that, then he would be the happiest man alive.

But then she bit her lip as if in regret. His chest tightened. Did she regret admitting to wanting to kiss him? Or was it worse than that, and she regretted allowing him to kiss her because doing so was only fanning false hope within him?

"Dunne, I?—"

She placed a light finger over his lips. "Please don't. You said we should wait another fortnight to decide anything. It's…too soon."

It wasn't, not for him at least. He had never been more certain of what he wanted, but he had no choice but to agree to wait at the risk of frightening her away.

Instead, he kissed the tip of her finger. This innocent gesture seemed to confuse her even more than the kiss had, and he almost drew the finger into his mouth to suck on it.

"I will go and repair my dress," she mumbled, averting her gaze. "This one belongs to Birgit and is too small for me. I must look ridiculous in it."

She looked anything but ridiculous, but he agreed she had better go change. With her breasts straining against her bodice, she was a walking provocation. The last thing he needed was another Orvyn thinking "Birgit's comely sister" could warm his bed.

"Go. Tell Birgit I will go hunting and bring something to eat for tonight."

With a nod, she left.

Bj?rn picked up another stone.