very rapid Norse, which should have made it hard to understand, but his tone made his meaning extremely clear.
“He is a friend,” she told him, and saw Matthew’s eyebrows creep up at the language they were speaking.
Her father spoke in English to Matthew. “His name is Leif Draugr. He is Norse. That is the language he is speaking. I shall be happy to explain, but in return, I will expect your discretion in the matter. This is a golden opportunity, Matthew, a chance to study a culture long believed dead.”
Matthew turned a shrewd look on Leif, who was glaring at him as if he were the fat man with the stick outside his cage.
“You have my word,” Matthew said, obviously intrigued. “Whatever we discuss will be kept strictly between the two of us.”
Her father nodded, turned to Leif. “You will have to pardon me, Leif. I need a word with my colleague. As soon as I am finished, we can begin your lessons.” He turned his attention to Krista. “It is obvious our guest needs appropriate clothing. If you wouldn’t mind, I would appreciate your help in the matter.”
She flicked a glance at Leif. He did look ridiculously out of place. Not only was he wearing the clothes of a servant, they didn’t begin to fit his large frame.
“I could pick you up at the office this afternoon,” her father said, “if you could find a bit of time.”
Inwardly, she sighed. Her mother had always helped her father with his wardrobe, which cut of garment suited his thin frame best, which fabrics went together. Krista had taken over the task and was fairly good at it. She could assist the big Norseman far better than the professor could.
“All right, I’ll go with you. I should have things under control by this afternoon.”
“Around two o’clock, then?”
She nodded, worked up a smile for Matthew. “Now if you gentlemen will excuse me….”
Matthew and her father both made faint bows. She said nothing to Leif, but she could feel his eyes on her as she walked out the door. Ignoring an odd little flutter in the pit of her stomach, she headed down the front steps to her carriage.
Work at the gazette continued as it always did. Lately she had been looking for a cheaper source of paper, and she spent the morning reviewing different bids. Immersed in the job, Krista didn’t notice the time. She was sitting at her desk, poring over the notes she had made for the article she needed to finish, when her father walked into the office.
“Oh, dear. I am sorry, Father. I completely lost track of time.” She removed the apron tied over the skirt of her dove-gray gown, which was trimmed with scarlet braid and one of her favorites. “Just let me get my bonnet and I’ll be right with you.”
He nodded, waited patiently while she went upstairs to check her appearance in the mirror in the retiring room and grab her scarlet-trimmed bonnet and cloak. Setting the bonnet over the blond curls nestled against her shoulders, she tied the ribbons beneath her chin, then returned downstairs.
“Leif is waiting in the carriage,” the professor said.
And rather impatiently, she discovered when she climbed into the coach and took a seat across from him.
“You are late, lady.”
A trickle of annoyance slipped through her. “Women are supposed to be late. That is to be expected. Besides, how would you know? You don’t have a…a…” she didn’t know the word in Old Norse for clock, so just said, “a way to tell time.”
He leaned over and looked out the window, pointed up at the yellow orb shining over the city. “The movement of the sun tells me all I need know.” He pinned her with a glare. “And you, lady, are late.”
Krista opened her mouth to tell him he was lucky she had agreed to come at all, but her father gave her one of his looks. “Remember, dearest,” he said, speaking English, “things are different where Leif comes from.”
“Yes, well, Leif is in London now, not on Draugr Island.” She flicked the blond
“He is a friend,” she told him, and saw Matthew’s eyebrows creep up at the language they were speaking.
Her father spoke in English to Matthew. “His name is Leif Draugr. He is Norse. That is the language he is speaking. I shall be happy to explain, but in return, I will expect your discretion in the matter. This is a golden opportunity, Matthew, a chance to study a culture long believed dead.”
Matthew turned a shrewd look on Leif, who was glaring at him as if he were the fat man with the stick outside his cage.
“You have my word,” Matthew said, obviously intrigued. “Whatever we discuss will be kept strictly between the two of us.”
Her father nodded, turned to Leif. “You will have to pardon me, Leif. I need a word with my colleague. As soon as I am finished, we can begin your lessons.” He turned his attention to Krista. “It is obvious our guest needs appropriate clothing. If you wouldn’t mind, I would appreciate your help in the matter.”
She flicked a glance at Leif. He did look ridiculously out of place. Not only was he wearing the clothes of a servant, they didn’t begin to fit his large frame.
“I could pick you up at the office this afternoon,” her father said, “if you could find a bit of time.”
Inwardly, she sighed. Her mother had always helped her father with his wardrobe, which cut of garment suited his thin frame best, which fabrics went together. Krista had taken over the task and was fairly good at it. She could assist the big Norseman far better than the professor could.
“All right, I’ll go with you. I should have things under control by this afternoon.”
“Around two o’clock, then?”
She nodded, worked up a smile for Matthew. “Now if you gentlemen will excuse me….”
Matthew and her father both made faint bows. She said nothing to Leif, but she could feel his eyes on her as she walked out the door. Ignoring an odd little flutter in the pit of her stomach, she headed down the front steps to her carriage.
Work at the gazette continued as it always did. Lately she had been looking for a cheaper source of paper, and she spent the morning reviewing different bids. Immersed in the job, Krista didn’t notice the time. She was sitting at her desk, poring over the notes she had made for the article she needed to finish, when her father walked into the office.
“Oh, dear. I am sorry, Father. I completely lost track of time.” She removed the apron tied over the skirt of her dove-gray gown, which was trimmed with scarlet braid and one of her favorites. “Just let me get my bonnet and I’ll be right with you.”
He nodded, waited patiently while she went upstairs to check her appearance in the mirror in the retiring room and grab her scarlet-trimmed bonnet and cloak. Setting the bonnet over the blond curls nestled against her shoulders, she tied the ribbons beneath her chin, then returned downstairs.
“Leif is waiting in the carriage,” the professor said.
And rather impatiently, she discovered when she climbed into the coach and took a seat across from him.
“You are late, lady.”
A trickle of annoyance slipped through her. “Women are supposed to be late. That is to be expected. Besides, how would you know? You don’t have a…a…” she didn’t know the word in Old Norse for clock, so just said, “a way to tell time.”
He leaned over and looked out the window, pointed up at the yellow orb shining over the city. “The movement of the sun tells me all I need know.” He pinned her with a glare. “And you, lady, are late.”
Krista opened her mouth to tell him he was lucky she had agreed to come at all, but her father gave her one of his looks. “Remember, dearest,” he said, speaking English, “things are different where Leif comes from.”
“Yes, well, Leif is in London now, not on Draugr Island.” She flicked the blond
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