‘It’s an excellent match, Lara.’
‘For the two of you I have no doubt.’
‘And for you. Thor’s teeth! You’re eighteen years old. You should have been wed long since.’
‘I will not wed at your behest.’
‘You damned well will. I’ve put up with your games for long enough.’
‘A game? Is that what you think it is?’
He glared at her. ‘Isn’t it? Are you trying to tell me you haven’t enjoyed sending your erstwhile suitors packing?’
Lara’s chin tilted at a militant angle. ‘No, I won’t tell you that. I did enjoy it and good riddance to the lot of them. I’ll enjoy it even more when I send Jarl Finn packing.’
‘Are you really so simple as to imagine you could?’
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her scattered wits. It wasn’t easy while she was trying to fight a sensation of rising panic as well. Deep down a part of her suspected that what her father had said was true. Finn Egilsson wasn’t the kind of man who could be sent anywhere if he didn’t wish to go.
‘This man isn’t like the others, Lara. If I’d thought so I wouldn’t have offered him your hand.’
No, he isn’t like the others. He isn’t like any man you’ve ever met and that is the problem.
‘I can’t marry him. I barely know him.’
‘Don’t you?’
‘How could I? We only met yesterday for goodness’ sake.’
He surveyed her with a level gaze. ‘And do you find him lacking in wit or intelligence?’
Gods, hardly. The man is sharp enough to cut himself. ‘No, of course not.’
‘Well, then, is his manner uncouth?’
‘His manner is highly polished, as well you know.’ It’s practically got a gloss on it.
‘Do you fear mistreatment at his hands?’
She shook her head. In spite of their short acquaintance she knew he would never be violent to a woman. Just how she knew was hard to say but the knowledge came from somewhere deep inside her. ‘No, I don’t fear that.’
‘Do you find him displeasing to look upon?’
Just for a moment his face appeared in her mind’s eye; a face composed of strong lines and planes, a blade of a nose, a firm mouth, square jaw and piercing grey eyes. The kind of face you couldn’t forget: arresting, disturbing. ‘He is not ill-looking.’
‘Perhaps it is something about his birth or rank that you find lacking.’
‘He is of good birth. I know that.’
‘What is it that you so dislike, then?’
Lara was silent for a moment. Then she met her father’s gaze. ‘What I dislike is being treated like a chattel. I am not some possession to be disposed of at your whim, Father.’
‘I never make a binding agreement on a whim and I have never considered you as a chattel, or your sister, hard as that may be for you to believe. That alliance was made because it had to be, but it was made in good faith.’
‘Good faith?’ She uttered a shaky laugh. ‘Is that what you call it?’
‘I regret the outcome as much as you do. That’s why your future husband is a different kind of man.’
‘He is not my future husband. I will not marry him.’
She steeled herself for the explosion of rage that must surely follow, but it didn’t happen. Her father continued to regard her calmly. It was more disconcerting than any outburst of anger would have been.
‘You’ll marry him,’ he replied. ‘You can either do it with a semblance of grace or you can be dragged into the hall by main force. It’s up to you.’
Her hands clenched at her sides as she conquered the urge to scream, rage, shout defiance. It wouldn’t do any good. His word was given and he would not be forsworn. If she tried to disobey him he would have her forcibly brought to her wedding all right, and under the gaze of the assembled company and, worse, Jarl Finn’s mocking grey eyes. The humiliation would be unspeakable.
She swallowed hard. ‘The use of force will not be necessary.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Incidentally, I shall expect you to wear your finest gown this evening and do honour to your husband. Is that clear?’
‘Very clear, Father.’
‘Good. I’ll leave you to it, then.’ He moved towards the door but as he reached the threshold she stayed him.
‘Does he even like me?’
‘He has not confided the matter.’ He paused. ‘However, you have looks and wit enough to win a man’s affections if you choose. Use them.’
‘Perhaps I do not choose to.’
‘Then you’re a fool.’
She looked away blinking back tears. Her father’s gaze never wavered.
‘Marriage is not easy even when both parties are making an effort. You cannot afford to be at odds.’
‘The situation is not of my making.’
‘True, but half of what happens hereafter will be of your making. Remember that.’
* * *
After he had gone Lara seized the nearest object and hurled it at the wall. The horn cup shattered into a dozen pieces. As though at a signal, the water in her eyes spilled over and for a while she paced the floor, uttering a protracted growl of fury and frustration. It was all happening again! In spite of her best efforts it was happening again. She’d been so determined that it wouldn’t. She’d promised Asa but in the end it was an empty promise. The matter had been decided without any reference to her or any consideration for personal inclination. She was powerless.
At length she sank down on the edge of the bed and shakily dashed away the tears with her sleeve. Tears were weakness and, anyway, they wouldn’t help her. She had to think. The trouble was that rational thought had never seemed so far away. The only thing that was clear was just how naive she had been to imagine her father would allow her to remain unmarried. When she’d refused to make a choice he’d done it for her. This man isn’t like the others. And, gods, wasn’t that the truth?
Lara drew in a ragged breath as Jarl Finn’s face impinged on her thoughts. He was all the things she had admitted before and yet she felt no closer to knowing who he really was. Her mind returned to the scene on the promontory. That man had been very different from the one she’d spoken to the day before but which was real, the smooth-tongued admirer or the warlord? Or were they just different facets of the same character? She’d known how to deal with the first but the second was another matter entirely. The warlord was charismatic but he was also dangerous. Some of that was about his sheer physical presence, but it went deeper. It was concerned with the aura of power he wore as effortlessly as the sword at his side. Everything about the warlord spoke of a natural leader, of a man familiar with command and to being obeyed. She’d already glimpsed his strength; he’d controlled her without even trying. In a few hours from now he would be her husband and his power over her would be total. As the realities of what that meant began to sink in the knot of apprehension tightened in her stomach.
Chapter Four
Finn half expected that his intended bride would refuse to appear that evening. As her father had said, Lara was not a biddable young woman and only a fool would imagine that she viewed this marriage with favour. She was more than capable of creating a spectacular scene. The possibility created