Dream of Me/Believe in Me

thought of her was enough to arouse him, a fact he observed ruefully. But this business of a
wife
, that was altogether different from a temporary mistress or chance encounter. It was for the long term, therefore patience was counseled.
    She could read. That might be a starting place. They could talk of books. He had read more than fifty books in his life. He would regale her with them, she would be suitably impressed, and they would …
    He sighed, trying to imagine such an unlikely course. Mayhap there were better ways. His mind chewed on ituntil the sun slanting through the windows alerted him to the passing hour. He rose and dried himself quickly before dressing for the evening meal. When he caught himself pulling out a tunic the color of which he thought might appeal to Krysta, he groaned in disgust and threw it back into the chest. But a moment later he took it up again and donned it, telling himself it was merely the easiest to hand.
    So did the master of Hawkforte descend to his hall, and to the woman who awaited him there.

Chapter SIX

    K RYSTA TOO WAS FRESH FROM A BATH. SHE had dressed with care, choosing a gown the same shade of teal blue as sometimes lingered in the sky at the turning of the sun. She had never seen the gown before and only now realized that her chests must contain quite a few items that were entirely new to her. Either they had belonged to her mother and been held in waiting for her, or Raven had been procuring them all this time, no doubt with Thorgold's able assistance. Glad though she was for their foresight, she had to wonder what had made them believe she would need such garments. Certainly the thought had never occurred to her.
    Her half-brother Sven had called the Saxons dirty and said they lived in their own filth, but she had seen no evidence of that. In the warmth of summer, people seemed to bathe regularly and the women were forever sweeping out their cottages, airing their bedding and the like. Nor had it escaped her notice that after Daria retired for the night, the servants were inclined to pair off and drift down to theriver. Their laughter floated on soft evening breezes, along with what sounded like energetic splashing.
    She was glad, then, to be able to appear before them suitably groomed and garbed. Glad, too, of Aelfgyth's kind help. The young woman insisted on brushing Krysta's hair for her, murmuring compliments on the color even as she struggled with the riotous curls.
    “Did your mother have hair like this, my lady?”
    Krysta glanced away from the small bronze mirror that revealed a reflection she had scarcely ever seen. “I don't know. My mother went away when I was very young.”
    Aelfgyth's hands stilled for a moment before resuming their soothing rhythm. “She died?”
    “No, she just went away. Raven and Thorgold have told me only that she was very beautiful, nothing else.”
    “Forgive me if I ask too much, my lady, but is that customary among the Norse? I mean for a wife to leave her husband like that? It happens here sometimes when folk follow the old ways and handfast before seeking the blessing of the Church. They are only sworn to stay with each other for a year or unless a child is conceived, so sometimes such couples part.”
    “The Norse do that as well but I don't think many wives leave their husbands after a child is born. Still, I suppose it happens.”
    Aelfgyth was silent again for so long as she could contain her curiosity. Swiftly enough, she said, “Could you not visit your mother?”
    Krysta hesitated. She had surprised herself by mentioning anything about her upbringing and knew not how to put the question aside with due delicacy. Finally, she said, “She went very far away. I could not follow. At any rate, my father was a good man and I would have missed him sorely as I did when he died a year ago.”
    The maid nodded sympathetically. She finishedsmoothing Krysta's hair as best she could and secured it with a ribbon the same shade as her gown. “You look lovely, my lady.”
    Krysta mustered a smile but it wobbled away before she stepped from the room. Last night, she had thought only of how the Hawk's people would react to her sudden transformation. This night, her thoughts were solely of him. He was already in the hall when she arrived, talking with several of his lieutenants and the redoubtable Edvard. The conversation broke off as she entered. Hard-faced men shot her quick, sharp looks. A few nodded in her direction but none