Page 65 of The Blue Viking

Blind as a bat was he.

Not in the eye,

But in his mind,

For the one thing he could not see—

Maire interrupted the skald’s verse-making with a sharp jab of her elbow into his ribs. “Don’t… you … dare!” she warned.

Bolthor ducked his head and rubbed his side… not that she’d done the giant block of flesh any real damage.

The closer Rurik and Jamie got to the high table, the more apparent it became to everyone that they were father and son, so remarkable was the resemblance. Everyone, that is, except Rurik, who was beginning to notice the gaping stares of astonishment.

“What? Has no one e’er seen a clean boy afore? Or is it just Wee-Jamie that has ne’er been viewed in all his glory?” Rurik turned his attention to the child at his side, who was gritting his teeth at what he perceived to be an insult. Maire noticed that his grip on Jamie’s hand tightened to make sure he did not bolt and do something foolish, like go roll in a puddle of mud to be contrary. “Jamie and I both decided that a young laird must take better care of his personal appearance if he is to set an example in all ways for his clan. Is that not so, Jamie?”

Rurik and Jamie exchanged a long, meaningful look in which Rurik silently conveyed the message, “You promised, boy. Now, do your duty,” and Jamie silently conveyed, “Don’t push me too far, Viking.”

Finally, Jamie nodded, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Maire’s heart had practically stopped beating. This was it… the crucial moment. Who would be the person to tell Rurik he had a son? As the minutes ticked by and no one spoke up … not her people, nor Rurik’s retainers … she realized that they were leaving it up to her. It was her responsibility and no one else’s to inform the father of his paternity.

She let loose a sigh of relief, but her heart was still heavy. She knew it was a temporary reprieve.

It was only then that Maire felt free to examine Rurik in detail. After all that had passed between them the day and night before, this was the first time they’d come together outside the bedchamber. It was still hard to believe that this beautiful man had done so many wicked things to her, and that she’d done such wicked things to him in return. She was the one who allegedly practiced witchly arts, but truly Rurik must have put a spell on her. How else could she explain her behavior?

Was Rurik affected at all? Or was what she perceived as extraordinary lovemaking just routine to him?

His eyes connected with hers then, and instantly turned smoldering. He was remembering, too. And, aye, he was equally affected, Maire exulted to herself.

And had Toste really mentioned something about the amber pendant being a bride gift? Maire was shocked and thrilled at the same time, to think Rurik might be contemplating marriage… if, in fact, that was what Toste had meant. With deep emotion, she touched the spot on her chest where the special necklet rested under her arisaid. No one else could see it, but she knew it was there. For some reason, she wanted to hear from Rurik’s lips the significance of the gift. Mayhap she’d misheard or misunderstood. Until she knew for certain, the gift would be for her eyes only.

Maire looked at the Viking knight who approached and he looked back at her, causing a thrill of excitement to ripple over her body. All he had to do was look at her now, and she melted. Rurik gave her a wink to show he understood that sizzling magical thing that ricocheted between them. Maire felt her lower stomach lurch and her breasts tighten at that mere movement of his eyelid. Such a simple gesture, and yet, everything Rurik did now would have erotic undertones to her. The sight of his slender fingers touching the hilt of a sword would remind her of other things those fingers had done. The sight of his lips breaking into a lazy grin would remind her of the kisses he’d laid on her with such expertise. The shift of his hips as he walked would remind her of—

“We’re starved,” Rurik said, jarring her from her wanton reverie. “Aren’t we, boy?”

“Aye,” Jamie agreed. “Can I sit with me friends?” He pointed toward a group of boys of a similar age at one of the lower tables.

Rurik looked to Maire for her opinion. She nodded, but not before adding, “As long as you stay inside the keep, or within eyesight. I mean this, Jamie. It’s important that you do not stray.”

“I ken what ye say, mother,” Jamie said in an uncharacteristically meek voice. “Rurik ’splained it to me. The bloody MacNabs, and all.”

Maire was about to correct him for his foul language, but decided to wait till later. “Come here first and give your mother a hug,” she encouraged. “I have missed your hugs these many days we have been separated.”

“Mo-ther!” Jamie protested, glancing toward his friends to see if they were watching. Still, when Rurik released his hand, he jumped forward and gave Maire a sloppy kiss on her cheek and an exuberant child hug with his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

Into his neck, Maire whispered, “Are you all right, sweetling?”

“Aye,” Jamie whispered in an overloud voice directly into her ear. “But I still think Rurik is a bloody hell Viking.”

“That he is,” Maire found herself concurring in an undertone.

As her son rushed off to be with his friends, Maire smiled and wiped away a tear.

Rurik was watching her closely. “You coddle the boy overmuch,” he said, but Maire could also see something else in his blue eyes … eyes that marked the only difference between him and his son. Jamie’s were green, like hers. Well, that, and the blue mark. Rurik must have yearned at one time for the kind of maternal affection he’d just witnessed between her and her son.

So, instead of reacting adversely to his “coddling” remark, she said, “You and I have much to talk about.”

To her surprise, he conceded, “Yea, after we eat, we will sit down and discuss all that must be done about the MacNabs.”