“I am not a priest, Father Bernard,” he confessed.
“Tsk! Just like Rain, you chose to play your foolery in God’s house. For shame!”
“So you know Rain—Brother Godwine—was a woman?” he asked with a slight smile.
Father Bernard’s upper lip curled with disgust. “Yea, and most angry Father Theodric was at her deception. At first, he would not allow her to work in the hospitium.”
“Rain was still working here?” he asked in surprise. “Until when?”
“’Til now,” he answered irritably, obviously confused by the question.
It took only a moment for the cleric’s words to sink in.
Now.
Suddenly hopeful, Selik brushed past Father Bernard, and his eyes scanned the hospitium, finally locking on the tall, tunic-clad figure bent over a patient.
Thank You, God.
Oh, ye of little faith. When will you learn?
Selik gave a small salute upward and smiled. Then, frozen in place, he gazed at Rain longingly, wanting to savor the wonderful gift God—or whoever—had just given him.
Rain finally stood. With her back to him, she put a hand to the small of her back, as if to stretch tired muscles. Her body went rigidly still then, as if sensing danger, and she turned abruptly. She inhaled sharply and her eyes widened.
“Selik?” she whispered.
For one brief moment, her golden eyes lit with happiness at seeing him, but they immediately hardened, turning both wounded and angry at the same time.
He stepped closer and reached out for her, but she backed away. “Don’t touch me,” she ordered.
He halted and tilted his head in question.
“So you finally came back,” she sneered.
“I came as soon as I could. Athelstan insisted I stay and—”
“For two months?” she asked incredulously.
Selik felt his face grow warm. “I sent a letter.”
“I never got it,” she retorted disbelievingly, glaring at him haughtily. “Aren’t you supposed to be in exile or something? Won’t King Athelstan set his men on you?”
“Athelstan has given me permission to live in Northumbria again.”
Her brow creased in confusion. “Why would he do that?”
“I pledged my loyalty to the Saxon king. And my services, if ever needed.”
“You gave your oath to the Saxon enemy?” she asked, clearly amazed.
“I have no real hatred for the Saxons themselves, just Steven. I know, I know, ’tis not what I always proclaimed. You taught me that, dearling.”
He saw the pulse in her neck jump at his endearment, and with a barely suppressed grin, he stored the information away for future use. “Leastways, Athelstan is not so very bad.”
“Why have you come back, Selik?”
“Because I love you, Rain. I forgive you for all you did with Steven. In time, I will forget. Just come back.”
Rain did not soften and jump into his arms, as he desperately wanted. Instead, she stiffened and her eyes flashed.
“And where is Steven?”
“He fled to Frankland.”
“And will you go after him?” she asked in a cold voice.
He stared at her levelly, unable to comprehend the anger in her voice. “Not yet.”
She launched herself at him then, pummeling his chest, scratching at his face. “You bastard! You stupid bastard!”
“What? What?” He could not understand her anger. Finally, he was able to hold her forearms immobile at her sides, his body a distance from hers to avoid her kicking feet.
To his dismay, quite an audience of intrigued clerics had gathered nearby, listening to their every word.
“Why are you so angry, my love?” he asked softly, trying to ignore his audience.
“Because you’re as blind as a bat and can’t see the facts in front of your face. Because you’re still continuing this bloody vendetta against Steven. I hate the evil man. I wish he were dead, but I’m not going to ruin my life going after him. Nothing’s changed at all, has it, you jerk? And I’m not your love. I’m not your anything. Not anymore. By the way, where’s Blanche?”
“I do not know where Blanche is. Perchance in Winchester. I think I saw her with one of Athelstan’s guards.”
“Did you just pass her off to another man, like a possession?” she asked venomously.
He was beginning to understand. “Rain, I was never with Blanche—not in that way. I just pretended for your benefit. I saw you with Steven, and I wanted to hurt you back.”
Rain stared at him, disbelieving, for a moment before she swung an arm wildly and punched him in the stomach.
“Oomph!” He bent over from the waist, then wheezed out, “Why did you do that?”
“To hurt you, you bastard. Just like you hurt me.”
Selik stared at her as he rubbed his stomach, wanting more than anything in the world to touch her face, to kiss her lips, to show her how much she meant to him. How sorry he was for all the pain he had inflicted on her. “I love you, Rain.”
“That’s not what you said before I left you in Winchester.”
“I am truly, truly sorry. For all the hurts I caused.”
Tears streamed, unheeded, down her face, and he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Ah, sweetling, do not weep. Please. I am here now.”
She shrugged his hand away angrily. “Too late. Too damn late.” Her head bowed in dejection before she whispered brokenly, “I waited and waited for you. And the only way I could survive was to stop loving you. It’s too late.”
“Nay! ’Tis never too late,” he cried. “I love you.” He grabbed her arms and shook her gently. “Do you hear me? I love you. I love you.”
When she did not respond, he finally stopped and said wearily, “Come back to the farmstead with me. In time, we will be able to settle our differences.”
“No. Now that you’re back, I’m staying here in Jorvik with Gyda. I won’t live in the same house as you again.”
His heart skipped a beat, sensing some message she did not speak aloud. He narrowed his eyes. “Do you fear weakening in my presence?”
“Hah! Still the supreme egotist!”
“You love me. I know you do. You have just buried it for a time, as I did my feelings afore you came into my life.”
She refused to respond, but he saw her lips tremble and knew he was making some headway. He just needed time. “If you prefer, stay with Gyda for now. We will start over again from the beginning. I will woo you like no other woman has been courted in the world.”
She almost smiled, but then she shook her head as if to clear it. “I’m going back, Selik,” she told him gently.
“Nay, I will not allow it.”
“You can’t stop me,” she snapped with exasperation. “I’ll continue to go back to the Coppergate site every day until it finally works. And eventually it will send me back. I know it will.” Her voice was not quite as certain as her strong words.
Well, God, what do we do now?
What’s this “we” business? It’s up to you now.
Selik poked a finger in her chest and grinned, having a sudden inspiration. “Nay, you will not leave. Wouldst like to place a wager on it, my love?”
With that, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her ravenously, slanting his lips over hers, savoring the sweet taste of her breath, the heat of her skin. At first she struggled; then she too succumbed to the all-consuming passion they both shared. With a soft moan, she opened her mouth to his.
When he finally pulled away, staring hungrily at her parted lips and misty eyes, he urged rawly, “Come home with me, Rain.”
She seemed to waver, then pushed at his chest. “No. It’s too late.”
He gave her one more quick kiss, then released her.
“I will be back on the morrow. Be here.”
“I will probably be gone by then,” she stated stubbornly.
“Do you think so? I do not. By the by, what kind of fab
ric would you like for your wedding dress?”
“Wedding dress?” she sputtered. “Are you listening to me? Get this into your thick head. I…am…leaving.”
“Did I tell you I adopted Adam?”
Her eyes widened with shock. Good. Best to keep the wench guessing. He used to know that about women. He had forgotten over the years. Well, he would have to hone his skills now.
He continued. “Didst know that the little scamp stowed away on a ship and came all the way to Southampton to find me? To bring me back to you?”
Her mouth hung open now. Another good sign, he decided, and went for the kill. “Adam will, no doubt, insist on being my—what did you tell me that time about modern wedding rituals? Oh, I remember—my best man.”
Rain made a strange gurgling sound.
“And Adela can be your wench-of-honor.”
He turned then and left, without another word. He had much work to do before dark.
Rain stared at Selik’s departing body. She could barely keep herself from running after him. He looked so damned wonderful.
He no longer had the magnificent long blond hair that she had loved, but he looked just as good in the short style which barely came to his neck. Somehow it drew more attention to the sharp edges of his cheekbones and jaw, made him more handsome, less beautiful. A deep blue, short-sleeved tunic stretched across his wide shoulders, going only to his knees. The well-defined cords in his muscled calves and thighs stood out under his tight braies as he walked away. A thick, silver-linked belt accented his narrow waist.
Would this be the picture Rain would take back with her to the future?
Just before he opened the doorway to the church, Selik turned and his eyes, a startling gray against his tanned face, held hers for a long moment. As if in promise.
She’d told him that she didn’t love him anymore, but that wasn’t true. She loved him more than life itself.
She had to go home. And it wasn’t just stubbornness that made her stick to that decision. Even though she could never forget Selik’s lack of trust and ugly words at Winchester, she had already forgiven him for that. And his still harboring that mistaken notion of her infidelity—well, she could even accept that, hurtful as it was.
But Selik intended to continue his blood feud with Steven of Gravely. What kind of future would they have if she stayed? The next time someone hurt him, whether it was Steven or some other enemy, which would inevitably happen in these violent times, he would be off on another round of vengeance. The cycle was never ending. And she refused to be part of it by staying in his life. She just couldn’t bear such continuing pain.
Trust in love, the voice said.
But Rain was afraid to trust anymore.
“Well, what did ye expect?” an exasperated Ubbi exclaimed back at the farmstead when Selik told him of his failure with Rain. “Ye are blind as a bat, just as she said. And I thought ye had more sense than to go blundering after her so clumsily.”
“If I am willing to forgive Rain for her—for her betrayal with Steven, why can’t she forgive my harsh words?”
“Betrayal! Betrayal! Is that what ye said to her? Well, no wonder she rejected ye!”
“Explain yourself,” Selik demanded.
“Do ye have any idea what condition my lady was in when she returned from Winchester? Her body was one big bruise from her shoulders to her toes. And all because of you!”
Stunned, Selik demanded that Ubbi tell him everything.
When he finished, Selik raked his hands through his hair distractedly. “But I saw them together.”
“Ye saw what ye wanted to see.”
“Why did Athelstan not tell me?”
“Because the mistress begged him not to tell you.”
Selik felt a huge lump forming in his throat, and his heart beat so fast he could barely breathe. “Why? Why did she convince the king to keep this information from me?” he asked, still disbelieving.
“Because she said ye would blame yerself fer not protectin’ her, just as ye wasted so many years blamin’ yerself fer Astrid’s and Thorkel’s deaths.”
Selik exhaled loudly, as if he had been kicked in the stomach. Not protecting her. Selik repeated Ubbi’s words silently. A loud buzzing roared in his ears and he braced himself. He feared what he would hear next, but he had to know. “Tell me all of it.”
For an hour, Ubbi talked, sparing him no details, not of the degradations Steven had subjected Rain to, nor the condition of her body once Athelstan and Elgiva found her finally.
“Why did she not scream for help?” Selik asked finally. “The castle is not that large.”
Ubbi just stared at him.
“To protect me?” he asked in horror.
Ubbi shook his head in disgust, no doubt thinking Selik’s self-recriminations would be punishment enough for his lack of faith in the woman he loved.
Ubbi was right.
Selik banged his bruised fists, then his head, against the timber walls of the barn. How could he have been so blind? How could he have been so cruel?
Because you’re human.
Selik stormed out of the barn and turned his horse for Jorvik. He had to talk to Rain immediately.
Gyda’s house was dark and silent when he arrived, everyone already having retired for the evening. He waved aside a guard who recognized him and entered without knocking. Weaving his way through the dark in the familiar household, he made his way toward the upper guest room.
Rain lay on the small pallet, awake and staring at the ceiling. Candlelight flickered over her golden features, and Selik stopped momentarily in the doorway, frozen by his rapidly beating heart and his love for this woman from the future.
Rain jerked upright when she noticed his presence. “What are you doing here, Selik?” she asked coldly.
“Forgive me,” he said softly, stepping into the room.
“Forgive you? I thought you were going to forgive me,” she remarked coldly, standing and moving to the other side of the room, away from him.
“I kn-know,” he choked out. “I know what Steven did to you, and I will never forgive myself for the things I said, for my lack of trust.”
“Oh, great! One more thing to add to your load of guilt! Do me a favor, Selik, just forget the whole thing. I’m the one who was harmed by Steven. Let it go.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she looked up at him bleakly. In a choked voice, she added, “Let me go.”
“That I can never do, heartling. Never! Now that I have found you, I will never let you go.”
On those words, he turned and left Rain to her sleep. But sleep eluded her the rest of the night as she pondered all he’d told her, just now and earlier that day. Imagine, little Adam stowing away on a ship. And Selik adopting him. And what about Selik pledging himself to King Athelstan?
At least, she could go home knowing she’d accomplished some good in this mission back in time.
With a troubled mind, Rain doggedly headed toward Coppergate the next afternoon, having finally fallen into a troubled sleep and not awakening until late morning. She knew that if she put off her decision to go back to the future, she might never summon the courage again.
But an odd thing happened. She couldn’t find the Coppergate site. Day after day, for the past few weeks, she’d gone to the site, finding it with no trouble. But suddenly it had disappeared. Well, not exactly disappeared. Where the abandoned building had once stood was now an eight-foot-high timber fence patrolled by two armed guards.
No! He wouldn’t have. Would he?
Rain walked up to one man and said, “I need to go inside that fence.”
“Nay. ’Tis forbidden for anyone to enter.”
“Who says so?”
“The new owner.”
Rain folded her arms across her chest and glared up at the burly guard. “And who might that be?”
“Master Selik of Godwineshire.”
“Godwine…Godwineshire?” Rain stammered out.
“Yea, ’tis the
new name for my master’s lands outside Jorvik—the Land of God’s Friend. If ye want to enter this property, ye will have to discuss it with him.”
“Oh, you can be sure I will.”
Rain rode Godsend the two miles beyond the city to Selik’s farmstead, rehearsing the entire time the tongue-lashing she would give the arrogant Viking. Plagued with painful memories, she refused to look as she passed the cow byre where Selik had told her he loved her for the first time. He had made sweet love to her on that very spot. It seemed so long ago.
As she got closer to his holdings, she noticed a lot of unusual activity. Some workers were plowing the long-dormant fields. Others were rebuilding the house and doing repairs on the barn.
Two more cows and several horses grazed in a temporarily fenced area. She even thought she heard the grunting of pigs and the quacking of ducks.
She dismounted from her horse and was immediately surrounded by children, even Adam who waved to her from the background. He was leaning lazily against the barn with a piece of straw in his mouth—probably “supervising” again.
“Where’s Selik?” she asked him.
He motioned toward the rectangular Viking-style house—a very large house—which was quickly taking shape, its sides already half erected.
She found Selik cutting timbers on the other side of the structure, wearing only low-slung braies and leather shoes.
Oh, Lord.
He stopped working when he saw her approaching and wiped the sweat from his brow with a forearm—a beautifully muscled forearm, it was, too.
Oh, Lord.
He smiled.
Oh, Lord.
She forced herself to look at some point over his shoulder. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Building you a house.”
“What?” She looked quickly back at the building with surprise. That wasn’t what she’d meant. “The Coppergate site. I’m talking about that.”
“Oh, I decided to buy the land. Methinks it will be a good property to hold for future gain,” he said with bald-faced innocence. “What think you?”
“I think you’re crazy. I think your brains have turned to mush. I think you have some nerve. I think—”