Page 17 of The Shipwreck (The Warrior Maids of Rivenloch)

He froze. That was the point of her jeweled sword, no doubt. He knew he should have taken it. But how had she managed to find him? He was a good mile down the shore from her cottage.

Glancing down, he realized the waves rushing over the sand had only partially covered his footprints. They’d also completely covered the sound of her pursuit.

His shoulders sank. He’d hoped to avoid a confrontation. He’d hoped to escape quietly, letting Avril think he was a harmless coward like Loki—a knave who’d deserted her but wasn’t worth hunting down.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

“Away.”

“Without a word?” she asked, clearly vexed. “Without even saying goodbye?” She poked him with the sword, and he flinched. “How could you do that to…to a sweet little girl like Kimbery?”

Brandr could tell that Kimbery wasn’t the only one hurt by his desertion. But he didn’t dare let Avril know how he really felt. “She’ll get over it.”

His cold words hung on the air as a wave crashed on the rocks and hissed over the sand.

“Get over it?” she bit out. “You. Bloody. Bastard.”

He clenched his jaw against a surge of guilt.

“She called you Da,” she said.

He closed his eyes against the pain.

“Damn you, Viking,” she muttered. “I would have set you free.”

“I know.”

Behind him, she gasped. “If you knew, then why did you sneak off like a robber? Kimbery trusted you.” Her voice broke. “She…cared for you.”

He furrowed his brow. He cared for Kimbery. She’d brought a welcome light back into his life, a light that had been extinguished when his own children had been taken from him. As for Avril… He was afraid his feelings for Avril went far beyond merely caring for her.

Clenching his fists, he spoke with a flippancy he didn’t feel. “She’s a child. She’ll forget me.”

He heard her sob, but she covered her hurt quickly with a jab of her sword that made him wince. “Why would you do such a hurtful thing? Why would you desert her?”

“It’s for her own good,” he growled.

“You son of a…” She suddenly gave his arse a punishing whack with the flat of her blade.

He jerked and raised his hands in surrender.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“You wash up on my beach, sleep under my roof, eat my food, befriend my daughter, and you suddenly decide to walk out of her life…for her own good?”

Brandr decided not to remind her that those were things over which he’d had no choice. After all, she was upset, and she had a sword in her hand. “It is for her own good. You said it yourself. I’m a bad man.” “You know that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” It was best if she went on thinking he was a heartless brute. Leaving her would be twice as hard if she begged him to stay. “I’m a Viking, a marauder, an invader.”

“She liked you. She…she loved you.”

Brandr squeezed his eyes shut. He knew Avril was no longer talking about Kimbery now.

He could hear the hurt in her vexed murmur. “Damn you, did you care nothing for her? Was it all a ruse? How could you make her believe you had feelings for her and then…and then abandon her?”

Brandr didn’t mean to respond. It would be better for everyone if he let it go.

But the words spilled forth. “Do you think it was easy?” he choked out over his shoulder.

“To walk away like that? To leave her, knowing she trusted me? Do you think it was easy abandoning her, knowing I was breaking her heart?”

“Why then?” she sobbed. “Why did you run away?”

“I had to.”

“You’re a coward,” she said bitterly, “just like all the men I’ve known.”

“Nay!” he insisted, unwilling to let her believe that. “The man who raped you was a coward. The man who killed your father was a coward. The men who stole your land were cowards.”

“And you’re not?”

“Nay! I’m trying to protect you.”

“I can protect myself.”

“Not from me.”

“That makes no—”

“I’m cursed, Avril,” he ground out. “I’m…cursed. Everyone I care about has been taken from me. My wife. My children. My village. My men.” His throat closed, but he forced the words out. “I won’t let that happen to Kimbery. And I won’t let that happen to you.”

For a moment, the only sound was the hushed whisper of the incoming tide and a single gull squawking softly overhead.

Then Avril responded with surprise to his confession. “You…care about me?”

He hung his head and sighed. Was it not written all over his face? He gave her a rueful chuckle. “Oh, my Pictish temptress,” he said, shaking his head, “it’s far worse than that. I fear I’m in love with you.”

Avril was struck speechless. She lowered the blade from his back as his words sank in. No one had ever said that to her before. She didn’t know how to respond. She’d fantasized about being Brandr’s wife, about making a family with him. She’d never imagined he might already have feelings for her.

She stared in wonder at the enemy she’d discovered only days before on this very shore. His long Viking-blond hair tangled over his wide invader’s shoulders and fell down his broad marauding back. But though he was definitely still a stranger, he no longer seemed a foe.

Now she saw the possibility of a bright future…for Kimbery, for herself, for the shipwrecked Northman. They could make a life together. They could find a place in the world. All she had to do was persuade Brandr of that.

He glanced over his shoulder. Misunderstanding her silence and her lowered weapon, he asked somberly, “Will you let me go now?”

She whipped the point of her blade back up so swiftly it startled him.

“Not so fast, Viking.” A thrill of hope suffused her even as her eyes filled with happy tears.

One way or another, she’d convince the Northman to stay…

even if she had to keep him leashed in her cottage for a year.

“I thought you said you weren’t a coward. ”

He didn’t answer.

She continued. “You’re a damned Northman! You flex your muscle, rattle your battleaxe, and speak of glorious war. And yet you’d run away from a curse ?”

He clenched his fists, but remained silent.

“Well,” she said, “I don’t believe in curses.

Do you think you alone are fortune’s foe?

I’ve lost everything, too. I’ve had bad times when I wanted to surrender.

I’ve had moments of weakness when I wondered why I went on living.

But I never gave up. Not once did I let despair get the better of me. Not once did I—”

“Mama!” Kimbery called out suddenly behind her.

Avril started in surprise.

“Kimbery!” she snapped, whipping around to give her daughter the scolding of her life. “I told you to stay at…”

But when she saw Kimmie hadn’t come alone, Avril’s heart plummeted, her knees buckled, and she nearly lost her grip on the sword. Her little girl was riding merrily atop the shoulders of one of dozens of Viking savages that now occupied her beach.

“Look!” Kimbery crowed, oblivious to her horror. “I’m a Frost Giant!”

All of Avril’s warrior instincts told her not to show weakness, not to waver, not to beg. Five years ago, standing over her father’s grave, bruised from a brutal rape, she’d vowed never to cower before a Viking again.

But five years ago, she hadn’t had a daughter she’d die for.

“Nay,” she choked out, “please. Don’t hurt her.” She prayed they could understand her words. Oh, God, she thought, what if they meant to steal Kimbery? What if they sailed away with her to the North? What if Avril never saw her again?

Quaking with fear, she moved her sword away from Brandr and set the weapon gently on the ground. “Take him. Take Brandr. Just give my daughter back to me.”