Page 70 of Her Dark Viking
Brynhild led him through the lord's private sitting room into the master bedchamber where Gunnar deposited his now less vocal wife on the bed. He crouched beside her.
"I should never have brought you here. I knew it was too much, too soon..."
Mairead glanced past him, to the door. Only Brynhild had accompanied them. Seemingly satisfied that they were in private, or as near as made no difference, she smiled at him.
"Hush, my husband. I am quite all right. I merely thought a short diversion would be helpful. A moment to collect our thoughts, and perhaps for you to speak with your sister privately for a few moments."
"What? You are not ill? The baby...?" After the revelations of the day Gunnar had thought not much else would surprise him. He was wrong, clearly.
"As I said, I am perfectly fine." She pushed herself up into a sitting position and reached out her hand to her sister-in-law. Brynhild, too, was peering at her suspiciously as thoughnot quite able to comprehend this latest twist of events. "It is so pleasant to see you again, Brynhild. And what a lovely child. He is a fine, strong boy, I see. Is he not, Gunnar?"
"Er, yes. Very strong," agreed Gunnar, never taking his eyes from Mairead. "And you, wife, are a cunning, scheming woman who deserves a spanking. You may be sure, I am keeping count. I believe you just shaved a good ten years off my life with that stunt."
"My apologies. And to you too, Brynhild. I meant no ill, just?—"
"What has happened?" Fiona burst through the door, a jug in her hand. "I brought mead, and we have some good wine if that might help." She rushed to the bed, set down her pitcher and reached for her friend.
Mairead grinned at her from the bed. "I simply suffered a momentary upset. I am quite all right now, thank you. But since we are all here, perhaps you two can aid me in convincing my husband that there is no immediate cause to further sully his reputation with Lord Dughall by shedding yet more blood on the steps of his manor house. Are we to gather that you have arrived at an understanding with Taranc, Brynhild?"
"An understanding? 'Tis more than an understanding has produced this outcome." Gunnar gestured to the baby. The little one had now sated his appetite and was beginning to fret for further attention. Brynhild set him on the bed beside Mairead and sat beside him.
"Yes, Taranc and I have been able to settle our differences. We are wed and... I am happy."
"Happy?" Gunnar could not contain his exasperation. "But how can this be? He abducted you, did he not? Or so we were informed."
"He did," Brynhild acknowledged, "but that was ... a misunderstanding. It is all cleared up now and we have a good life here. I... I have a new family, and?—"
"A new family?" prompted Mairead. "You mean Dughall? And Fiona?"
"Yes, and Taranc of course. And my little Morvyn. He is a great joy to me."
"Of course. Children are such a blessing, do you not agree, my husband?"
She knew exactly where to wound him, Gunnar reflected as he regarded the gurgling infant. His nephew kicked his feet and offered a toothless grin as Mairead picked him up and nestled him to her chest.
Mairead crooned at the squirming child. "Morvyn and our little Tyra will be playmates, perhaps. Just as Njal and Donald are..."
"That will be nice," agreed Fiona. "You will be remaining with us for a while, then?"
"I am not entirely sure. Your father..." Gunnar knew he must resume the conversation with Dughall before much longer. "I would not wish my presence here to disrupt your peace." He hesitated, then, "Itispeaceful, I take it? Between you two." He had not forgotten where their current predicament originated. He eyed Fiona and Brynhild with some disquiet.
"Aye, I hope so," his sister murmured. "I have apologised, and explained what happened. I hope we understand each other better now, and we are friends I believe."
Brynhild looked to Fiona, who bowed her head in agreement. "Yes, we are friends."
"No more talk, then, of attempted murder?" Gunnar's tone had hardened. "Of thralls being left in the stocks to freeze to death?"
Brynhild coloured. "That was a mistake, a misunderstanding... I did not intend?—"
"I know that you did not." Fiona took her hand and levelled a calm stare at Gunnar. "It is done with. We will speak of it no more."
Gunnar held her gaze, considering this latest turn of events.
He would have the full story of the incident with the stocks, he promised himself, but not today. It was sufficient that Fiona and Brynhild seemed at ease together. Which only left the somewhat awkward question of his new bother-in-law, and of course his brother. He grimaced. He'd be damned if he was going to apologise to Ulfric this side of Valhalla. The elder Freysson had a lot to answer for and a pummelling in the sand was no less than he deserved.
"I shall leave you women to become re-acquainted," he announced, with a lop-sided grin. "I suppose I should return to the hall and let everyone know of your swift recovery, my love. They will be relieved, I am quite sure. And I expect your husband..." he nodded at Brynhild, "and your father..." he tipped his head at Fiona, "have much they wish to say to me."
"You will talk? Not fight?" Mairead bestowed her sternest expression upon him.
