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Sold To The Viking Warrior
Michelle Styles
IN HER CAPTOR’S BED!Women are not part of Sigurd Sigmundson’s existence, and Eilidith should purely be a means to an end to gain access to a well-guarded Viking stronghold. He would have to be made of iron, though, not to be stirred by the warmly sensual woman beneath her ice-cold shield.Liddy has been made to feel ugly and insignificant because of her facial birthmark. Surely her captor cannot physically desire her? But, oh, how the stifled, passionate Liddy yearns to experience unrestrained love in his arms.
In her captor’s bed!
Women are not part of Sigurd Sigmundson’s existence, and Eilidith should purely be a means to an end to gain access to a well-guarded Viking stronghold. He would have to be made of iron, though, not to be stirred by the warmly sensual woman beneath her ice-cold shield.
Liddy has been made to feel ugly and insignificant because of her facial birthmark. Surely her captor couldn’t physically desire her? But, oh, how the stifled, passionate Liddy yearns to experience unrestrained love in his arms...
‘Of course I might be willing to sell my daughter,’ her father said. ‘You may have her in lieu of this year’s harvest.’
‘I volunteered to be a hostage, not a slave!’ Liddy cried. ‘A hostage has certain rights. A slave has none.’
‘You offer your daughter as tribute?’ Sigurd asked, in a tone chipped from last winter’s ice.
‘Aye,’ her father said heavily. ‘I may have to sell her on the open market to raise the amount required if the harvest fails.’
Something flickered in Sigurd’s eyes and his face became more carved in stone than ever.
‘I will buy her from you...if the price is right.’
Author Note (#u454434df-ebf7-5e33-9637-9a63d366068a)
For the last four years my youngest son has spent part of his summers volunteering on the Scottish island of Oronsay. The first time he returned home he told me all about the Vikings on the west coast of Scotland, and how the Viking fleet had been based on Colonsay. I was intrigued, and wanted to do some more research. In September 2014 I was lucky enough to spend a week on Islay and Jura as my husband wanted to go whisky-tasting. The weather, contrary to all expectations, was blue skies and sunshine the entire time. I had a thoroughly good time and became more determined than ever to write a Viking romance set on the west coast of Scotland.
It took me a little time to get it right, but here it is.
As ever, I do hope you enjoy reading Sigurd and Liddy’s story as much I did writing it.
I love getting comments from readers and can be reached at michelle@michellestyles.co.uk, or through my publisher, or Facebook or Twitter: @MichelleLStyles (https://twitter.com/MichelleLStyles).
Sold to the Viking Warrior
Michelle Styles
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Born and raised near San Francisco, California, MICHELLE STYLES currently lives near Hadrian’s Wall with her husband, a menagerie of pets and occasionally one of her three university-aged children. An avid reader, she became hooked on historical romance after discovering Georgette Heyer, Anya Seton and Victoria Holt. Her website is michellestyles.co.uk (http://www.michellestyles.co.uk) and she’s on Twitter and Facebook.
Books by Michelle Styles
Mills & Boon Historical Romance
Viking Warrior, Unwilling Wife
An Impulsive Debutante
A Question of Impropriety
Impoverished Miss, Convenient Wife
Compromising Miss Milton
The Viking’s Captive Princess
Breaking the Governess’s Rules
To Marry a Matchmaker
His Unsuitable Viscountess
Hattie Wilkinson Meets Her Match
An Ideal Husband?
Paying the Viking’s Price
Return of the Viking Warrior
Saved by the Viking Warrior
Taming His Viking Woman
Summer of the Viking
Sold to the Viking Warrior
Mills & Boon Historical Undone! ebook
The Perfect Concubine
Visit the Author Profile page
at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) for more titles.
To my loyal readers,
who asked for more Viking-set romances.
Contents
Cover (#ubbc8b3d2-233a-56b4-92ad-8ae0e943cd91)
Back Cover Text (#u6191d798-65cb-51f6-8a21-9bbf675f1c50)
Introduction (#ue8a72ba5-ad8b-5b68-87c7-68400af26286)
Author Note (#u715f18b6-7d8b-51fd-808f-6dde667d821f)
Title Page (#u3536c012-1dd3-5288-96c9-35ddd8d70825)
About the Author (#ub747df4a-d617-5203-bd6d-23da67d0f541)
Dedication (#u2ef6dd48-c3a1-5be2-83aa-f0da7f842f20)
Chapter One (#u1564d686-d55d-56f8-a5c0-af6b9854979a)
Chapter Two (#u0ea0ad99-5d42-56fc-8b66-52c23e51ba9b)
Chapter Three (#ue620c055-edb8-5b76-9f56-168621a29424)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Author’s Historical Note (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_25f93df2-dd49-5b7a-982a-adfb11f8785f)
AD 873—Islay, Viking-controlled Alba.
Modern-day Scotland.
‘No good giving me that reproachful look of yours, Coll. I made a promise, so we have to go, even if I’d rather be anywhere else but there.’ Eilidith gathered her thin woollen cloak tighter about her body and tried to ignore the biting cold while her wolfhound padded softly beside her.
In the half-light before dawn, Liddy could make out the Northman stronghold in the distance and, beyond the forbidding wooden walls, the purple-grey Paps of Jura rose. Appearances were deceptive. While she expected to arrive before the assembly day, Liddy knew she had at least a full day’s hard walk in front of her. She had refused to travel in a boat since the accident which killed her young twins, Keita and Gilbreath.
Behind her, the footsteps which had been keeping pace with her for the last few miles stilled.
Liddy reached down and grabbed her wolfhound’s collar. Her mother had objected to her taking Coll, even to the point of calling her by her proper name, Eilidith, and reminding her that she was a lady of the Cennell Fergusa, not an urchin without a noble kindred. Liddy had insisted and her mother had given way as she often did these days, commenting as Liddy left that for once she sounded like her old passionate Eilidith, the one who had vanished when her husband died.
Liddy rolled her eyes and continued walking. Her old self had vanished long before the day she heard of Brandon’s demise. That self had ceased to be when her children drew their final rattling breaths and her heart had shattered into a thousand pieces.
Liddy reached down and stroked the dog’s ears. Coll leant into her and gave a reassuring nuzzle of her hand.
In the aftermath of Islay’s final fall to the Northmen, outlaws roamed the woods and desperate men were prepared to do desperate things. However, even a desperate man would think twice when confronted with a full-grown wolfhound. Coll’s head came up to her chest. He had a scar running down his nose, a legacy from a tumble he took as a puppy, rather than a fight, but it gave him a fearsome appearance that made most people and dogs avoid him. But it made Liddy love him more.
She, too, had a disfigured face—a birthmark decorated the lower part of her jaw. When she’d been small and children teased her, her grandmother, her seanmhair, had declared her kissed by an angel at birth and that she’d bring good luck to the Cennell Fergusa. However, her late husband had considered the mark ugly and his mistress had declared her cursed at birth. After the twins died, she knew that woman had spoken the truth—she bore a curse. Her husband had even sworn in church, risking his immortal soul. Rather than risking the whispers, she shunned people and had become a virtual recluse, but now she had no choice—she had to act.
‘We can do this, can’t we, Coll? We can free my father and brother. Lord Ketil’s promise to my father must mean more than empty words.’
Coll gave a soft woof and nudged her hand in agreement, as if he believed the words were truth rather than noise to fill the silence and bolster her flagging courage.
Liddy squared her shoulders. No one was going to stop her. She would get her father and brother released. There had been a misunderstanding. Unlike her late husband, her father had sworn an oath of allegiance to the Northman overlord at the first opportunity. To protect his people and the land he’d been entrusted with by his father, he swore. Peace brought its own prosperity and it was the land which mattered. Cennell Fergusa had to endure on this land. It was in their blood and sinew.
Her hand balled into a fist. Even the Northmen in their great fortress had to have some sort of honour. They, too, had laws and a king. The Northern jaarl simply had to be reminded of his obligations. He would see it was in his best interest to hold fast to the laws. He wanted peace and prosperity, not war with the islanders. And there was a tiny part of her which hoped that her seanmhair was right and she would bring good luck to the family.
‘You walk with a determined step and a strong purpose,’ a faintly accented voice said behind her, making her jump. ‘Most people would shun this place at this hour.’
She half-turned and saw the same cloaked figure she’d been ignoring for the better part of an hour. The man had started following her a good mile or two back. He was tall and his face was hidden. There was no stoop in his back or shuffle in his step. Or rather not when he considered no one was watching. Under her gaze he seemed to shrink and hunch his shoulders as if he was attempting to seem less than he was.
She forced a steadying breath. No need to be frightened of a solitary man, not with Coll by her side and a knife stuck in her belt.
‘What business is it of yours?’ she asked and advanced another step on the path. She was glad that her remaining gold necklace was safely sewn into the hem of her gown. Nowhere that any robber would think to look. It was not much, but her mother had insisted. If she could not appeal to the Northman’s honour and respect for the law, she could buy her father’s and brother’s freedom. Liddy had agreed more out of hope than expectation. There was no room for error. She knew what would happen if she failed, but she had to do something. ‘How do you know where I go?’
‘Unusual to encounter a lone woman on the road at this hour.’ His gaze took in her cloak. ‘Particularly one of high birth.’
‘I’ve business at the Northman’s fortress.’ Liddy resisted the temptation to pull the hood across her face and hide the curse. Instead she curled her hand about her knife and threw back her shoulders. Maybe the stranger would take one look and decide a cursed woman was not worth bothering with.
Coll, sensing her mood, raised his hackles and gave a low growl.
The man stepped back a few steps and held up his hands. Coll flopped down at her feet, but kept a wary eye on the man.
‘You are brave or foolhardy in the extreme going near that fort without a protector. Do you know how they treat attractive women?’
‘My dog is my champion. He dislikes strangers, particularly Northmen who begin talking without a proper introduction,’ she said between gritted teeth. Attractive? Hadn’t he seen the mark on her face? ‘Even the Northmen at the fort have to obey their own laws.’
‘It has been some time since I have encountered anyone like you. Such bravery in the face of overwhelming odds. Unusual for a woman,’ he said, slowly lowering his hands and risking a step closer. Coll gave another low growl.
‘Flattery fails to work with me. I know what I am.’
His face took on a guarded expression. ‘We both travel in the same direction. What is wrong with a little conversation to pass the journey? Have you considered how you will get into the stronghold to put your petition? It is well guarded these days. They don’t just allow anyone in and lone unprotected women rarely emerge.’
‘Have you been there recently? Is it true that they keep the entrance guarded, only allowing people in at certain times?’ she blurted out.
