Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

W hat the hell dae I think I'm playin' at?

That was the question Arne was asking himself as he left Raven and went back to his chamber.

He had been dozing on and off in his room for a few hours, but proper sleep had eluded him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Raven. When he opened them, he saw Raven. Raven. He thought the name suited her. With her long, pitch-black tresses it seemed more her than Maeve. And yet it was Maeve he had fallen for.

But they were the same woman.

He had thought about what Haldor had said to him earlier, about encouraging Raven and Thorsten to spend time together. He had come up with what he thought was a good suggestion, one he knew Thorsten would love. Secretly, it warmed his heart to know how thrilled Raven would be by the offer, and he had intended to tell her in the morning. But when had heard someone creeping about in the hall, with all the recent talk of danger, he had gone out quietly to find out who it was.

When he had surprised her in the hallway sneaking from Thorsten's room, and she had turned around, she had looked so ethereally beautiful, it had taken his breath away. He had not really cared about her going in to see Thorsten sleeping, but the only shield he had against the attraction he felt for her was anger, so he had fallen back on that.

But all the time they were arguing in whispers, he had been drinking her in. She had looked so small and delicate, wrapped in a thin robe of red wool. The color matched her lips. She smelled clean and fresh, and he realized she must have washed her hair. Still damp, it flowed, an inky river, down her back and over her shoulders, all the way down to her slender waist. The sight had sparked his excitement.

Visions of the past had crowded into his mind as he had looked at her in the candlelight. He knew exactly what was beneath that robe, and he wanted it badly, or at least, his body did. It seemed to be driving him, and with her, he had very little control. Out in the hallway, he had toyed with simply giving in, picking her up, and taking her to his room. He pictured throwing her down on the bed and tearing off that robe. Would she scream? Or would she smile and beckon him closer as she used to do?

In the end, he had been forced to let her go. His state of arousal from having her captive, pinned against the wall, at his mercy, had been becoming too obvious. He had been on the verge of kissing her too. But something inside him still baulked at letting her know how much he still desired her. That was why, in the end, he had made himself let her go.

Impatient with himself, he turned over on his belly and rested his head on his arms, trying to think of anything but Raven. Then, he remembered her talking about Muriel, and a grin formed on his lips. "Are ye jealous of Muriel, is that it?" he had asked, aroused by the idea. Of course, she had denied it, but he could not help wonder if that was just another one of her lies. He hoped it was, because deep inside, he knew he really wanted it to be true.

The next afternoon, after he had spent most of the morning out on the training grounds, sparring with his men and then with Haldor, he took a quick bath and got himself ready to take Thorsten and Raven out for the afternoon. As he shaved and dressed, he caught himself whistling a cheery tune, realizing he was actually looking forward to it.

The weather was chilly, but there was a little wooden pavilion where they were going where he and Thorsten would sometimes go and play or just sit. He had arranged for blankets and provisions to be taken out there by servants beforehand to prepare, and he intended to make a fire in the little stove and maybe warm some bannocks or honey cakes. It would be a winter picnic, he supposed, smiling at his reflection in the looking glass as he washed the lather from his chin.

When he went to find Raven, he knocked at her chamber door, but there was no answer. He crossed over to Thorsten's room and was unsurprised to find her there. She and Thorsten were seated at the table. He was drawing, and she was leaning over him smiling, the picture of a proud mother. Seeing the two dark heads so close together moved Arne deeply, despite his misgivings.

He noticed Muriel was standing at the ironing board, ironing a stack of laundry. She greeted him with a smile when he entered. "Och, here's yer Da tae take ye out, Thorsten. 'Tis cold out, so ye'll need tae wrap up warm. I'll get yer things."

"All right," Thorsten said, grinning at his father delightedly.

"Nay need tae interrupt yer ironin'," Raven suddenly piped up, moving from the table, her hand resting lightly on Thorsten's head. "I'll get his things and make sure he's warmly dressed." Arne noticed an unusually sharp edge to her voice. Is she really jealous?

Muriel's smile wavered slightly, and she looked at Arne. "'Tis all right, Muriel, ye can carry on with what ye're doin'. We'll see tae him," he told her.

"Very well," the nursemaid replied, and went back to her ironing, looking a little perplexed.

Between him and Raven, they soon had Thorsten bundled up and ready for the outdoors. It was another strange time for Arne, having Raven there, putting on Thorsten's coat, wrapping his scarf around his neck carefully, and putting on his little woolen cap. "Tae keep yer ears nice and toasty," she told the little boy, popping on his mittens and helping him on with his boots.

It felt almost dreamlike to Arne, and Thorsten appeared to be happy. He supposed that if Raven stayed around, he could get used to it.

Outside, the day proved chilly and a bit damp, but the sun peeped obligingly from behind the clouds frequently enough to make it pleasant to be out in the fresh air.

"Why, ye're like a wee snowman, all snuggled up in yer coat," Raven told the little boy laughingly when she lifted him up to sit in front of his father in the saddle. Clearly very excited to be on a horse, he giggled. His small, gloved hands clutched at the reins held between his father's large ones, his cheeks already rosy from the cold.

"Let's go, Da. I want tae ride the horse," he told Arne in his lisping little voice, pulling on the reins.

"Careful now, or ye'll have us speedin' away at a gallop and fallin' on our arses. Ye can steer if ye dae as I tell ye," Arne told him gently.

"Aye, I will," the little lad promised, looking up at Arne in the adoring way that always had his heart turning over in his chest from sheer love. He looked over at Raven, who was now seated atop the mare he had chosen for her, and said, "See what I mean?"

"Aye, he'll be ridin' all by himself before very long, I'll wager," she said, her lovely face wreathed in smiles as she gazed raptly at their son. It was even more obvious now that the pair had already formed a close bond, and Arne felt a strange ache in his chest at seeing them together.

They looked exactly like the mother and son they were. It pained him slightly to think of all the time that had been wasted while she had been away. He tried to put it out of his mind as they turned their mounts out of the castle gate and headed across the moorland to their destination. He had kept it secret from them so far, wanting it to be a surprise.

The journey was only a mile or so from the castle, and all the way, Raven and Thorsten kept up a constant stream of chatter, pointing things out, giggling and laughing. Arne was amazed. It was as though Thorsten had always known her.

Arne had seen Thorsten with Muriel, with Sofia and Catalina, with his own sister Dahlia, all women who adored him. But there was something special about the way he had taken to Raven. He had witnessed it himself in the boy's chamber the evening before. Thorsten's usual initial period of shyness when meeting a stranger had been absent, and he had accepted Raven just as though they had always been together.

It was making it harder and harder for him to even think of keeping them apart. It crossed his mind that he would have to do something about keeping Raven in their lives for Thorsten's sake, for how could they be separated now?

When they had walked the horses up a shallow incline, they came to a rocky outcrop. A narrow path wound upwards through the boulders to the apex.

"This is it," Arne said, pulling up his horse. Raven stopped just behind them, looking around her at the scenery. To their right, the moorland lay spread out beneath them like an intricately woven carpet from some exotic foreign land.

"What a lovely place," she said, her eyes bright and her cheeks freshened by the breeze. Arne's heart thumped, for she looked even more lovely in the open air with the sun shining on her face.

"This is as far as we can take the horses. We have tae walk from here. D'ye ken where we are, Thorsten?" Arne asked, sliding from the saddle and putting Thorsten on his shoulders.

"Aye," the little boy crowed happily, clapping his hands, "we're goin' tae the waterfall!"

"That's right, clever lad."

"Och, a waterfall?" Raven said, dismounting. "How lovely."

"Thorsten loves the water, eh, lad?"

"Aye," the little boy said, hanging on to his father's head tightly. Arne tethered the horses to a nearby spar of rock, where they could munch on the tough grasses while they awaited their return.

"Shall we show Lady Raven the way to go?" he asked Thorsten brightly.

"Aye, this way," Thorsten pointed his small, gloved fist up the steep pathway between the boulders. "Come on!" Arne led the way, with Thorsten riding happily on his shoulders.

"All right. I'm comin'," she said, starting to follow them up the path. "I think I can hear the water already."

They went up the path, and by the time they had reached the top, the sound of the rushing water was already quite loud. They squeezed between a couple of flat boulders and emerged at the top of the waterfall. It fell like a rushing curtain from the top and cascaded in steps over rock shelves, throwing out rainbow-colored spray as it plunged to a series of interlinked pools below.

"Och, me goodness, 'tis spectacular. I would never have guessed this was hidden away up here," Raven exclaimed, looking awestruck by nature's power. "What a magical place."

Arne was secretly pleased that she liked it so much.

"We gottae go to the bottom. There's a wee house down there," Thorsten explained. "Come on, Da, let's go. I want tae show Lady Raven the house." In his excitement, he gripped his father's ears tightly.

"Ow, watch it, lad!" Arne said, laughing. "Ye're set to pull me ears clean off if ye're nae careful."

"Sorry, Da. But let's go!"

"All right, we're goin'." Arne told him before turning to Raven. "Be careful as we go down. The steps can be a bit slippery."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she told him.

He set off, stepping carefully, even though he knew the way well. He did so not only because he was carrying his son on his shoulders. He went slowly so Raven could keep up. He found himself worrying about her safety, not wanting her to slip and hurt herself. He told himself it was for Thorsten's sake.