I stepped into the middle of the path and held out a hand as if that would stop Frans if he decided to barrel ahead. “I don’t need either one of you watching over me.”
Frans jerked his head at Gunnar. “Knew from the minute he left the others that he’d decided to come out here hunting after what doesn’t belong to him.”
“From what I understand, she doesn’t belong to you yet either.”
“She’s mine.” Frans’s tone dropped. “And I want you to stay away from her this time.”
This time? Had Frans noticed Gunnar paying me attention during his visit home five years ago? Back then, Frans and I had been nothing more than friends—at least, that’s what I’d assumed. Was it possible Frans had aspired after me, and I hadn’t known it? Perhaps he’d been jealous of Gunnar coming home and so effortlessly winning my heart. After all, shortly after Gunnar left, Frans had expressed his feelings for me. I’d been angry and hurt at the time and had relished knowing someone wanted me.
Gunnar and Frans locked eyes. As Frans’s fists balled, Gunnar visibly tensed, the muscles in his jaw flexing.
I had to put an end to whatever this was. Surely Frans knew he had nothing to worry about. I’d only ever spoken negatively about Gunnar. And while I hadn’t shared the details of Gunnar’s rejection, I’d told Frans enough for him to know my friendship with Gunnar had ended badly.
Besides, Gunnar’s reputation as a womanizer had grown over recent years along with his fame as a Knight of Brethren. Rumors abounded about his wooing and winning women only to break their hearts. Why would Frans think I wanted anything to do with a man like that?
Maybe I’d once been naïve and easily charmed by a handsome face and winning smile. But I’d learned my lesson and had turned into a strong, independent woman. Couldn’t Frans see that? He ought to know Gunnar was the last man I’d want to be with. If I hadn’t made that apparent, I needed to.
I started toward Frans. “The good news is that we’ll be able to get married very soon.”
My declaration worked like magic. Frans halted, and his attention jumped from Gunnar to me. “How?”
I gave him what I hoped was my most comely smile. “Gunnar has offered to pay the bride price for us so that we might wed.”
I’d assumed the news would continue the magic and make everything better. But I was wrong. Frans’s thick brows only dropped into another deep scowl that he tossed at Gunnar. “I’m not taking money from him.”
“It doesn’t matter where the money comes from, so long as we can be married.”
“It matters to me.” The frustration radiating from Frans’s muscular frame rolled in waves down the path. “I refuse to be beholden to a man like him.”
Gunnar didn’t respond except to narrow his eyes.
I understood Frans needed to retain a measure of his pride and earn his own way. He didn’t want charity and didn’t want to be indebted in any way to Gunnar. But he had to see that this was different. “Gunnar realizes you were cheated out of your money, and this is his way of trying to right a wrong.”
Though Gunnar hadn’t said so, I’d sensed it. Underneath all the layers of defense Gunnar had erected over the years, I still saw the kind-hearted, giving, and sensitive person he was at his core. No, he wasn’t a perfect man, had been influenced by Bernhard, and had hurt me. But ultimately, he was a good man, good enough that King Ansgar had wanted him to be part of his closest group of knights. Surely that testified to his character.
“If Gunnar wants to right the wrong,” Frans tossed the words like a gauntlet, “then have him go to his brother and get my money back.”
Gunnar remained where he was, all arrogance now gone. “Doing so would only draw Bernhard’s attention upon your situation and upon Mikaela. I would do anything—anything at all—to keep that from happening. Would you not agree?”
I needed only to think of Lola toppling from the cliff to know what happened when Bernhard set his attention upon someone. From the loosening of Frans’s fists, I could tell he was remembering the same.
Silence hung heavy in the air, giving way to the rushing of a waterfall on the cliffs below as well as the distant call of a hawk. The cloudy sky above was beginning to turn a shade darker, and Frans and I would soon need to be within the castle gates for curfew or face punishment.
Frans eyed Gunnar as if searching for an answer to a riddle. “What do you stand to gain from making such an offer?”
“Mikaela’s happiness.” Gunnar’s response was quiet and sincere.
It caught me off guard, and I couldn’t keep from studying him the way Frans was, noting again the golden sword pin at his clasp signifying him as one of ten elite Knights of Brethren. I could only imagine the adventures he’d experienced, the battles he’d fought, the justice he’d brought to many.
If only I had the means to fight against the evil here in Romsdal. But I felt as if I were the one with my hands and feet bound with a stone weighing me down.
“If marrying you will bring Mikaela happiness,” Gunnar continued, “then I would gladly pay the fee to see it happen. . . .”
Standing but a dozen paces away, Gunnar had the bearing of a man who’d been shaped and changed by all he’d gone through, and I had the sudden, strange longing to sit down with him and hear every detail of his time serving beside the king. Even if I didn’t like Gunnar anymore, I couldn’t deny that we’d always been able to converse with each other about everything.
Not that I couldn’t talk with Frans. I could. But most of the time our conversations centered around simple everyday things and rarely delved into the deeper aspects of living.
Only when Gunnar’s brow inched higher on one side and a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth did I realize I was staring at him.
Gunnar stared right back, unabashedly. “There is one condition to the offer.”
“Should have known,” Frans muttered.
“It’s easy enough,” Gunnar added. “All Mikaela has to do is tell me that she loves you and mean it.”
All I had to do. I hadn’t yet told Frans I loved him. He’d whispered the words to me on a couple occasions. But he’d never asked or pushed me to do likewise.
As both men turned their attention upon me, I had the sudden urge to flee, to run somewhere and hide from their probing eyes.
I cared about Frans and could tell him I loved him and mean it, couldn’t I?
Drawing in a breath of cold air, I spun to face Frans. His eyes were filled with hope. The tenderness that softened his features told me he loved me. I needed only whisper it to him. Three little words. That was all.
I opened my mouth.
Gunnar’s gaze bore into my back. I could feel him watching my every move, daring me to speak the words. And oh, how I wanted to say them, wanted to mean them. But in the deepest places of my being, I knew I didn’t love Frans. At least not yet. Not the way he loved me and deserved to be loved in return.
Frans waited, his eyes getting bigger, something within them begging me to say the words, and not for the money we would gain but because he wanted the assurance that I felt about him the same way he did about me.
My mouth fell closed, and my shoulders deflated. Before I could decide how to proceed, Frans was already shaking his head and glaring again at Gunnar. “I don’t want your lousy payment!”