Read Online My Lord Viking by Jo Ann Ferguson - Free Book Online

was not false, for Randolph ’s call had led to this uncomfortable conversation.  
          “If you do not wish for him to court you—”
          “I did not say that.”
          “No, but I suspect you wish to.   Once you were so excited each time he came to call. Are you having second thoughts about this match?”
          Linnea wanted to focus on one problem at a time.   “You are right that I am having second thoughts.”   She did not admit that they were the same as her first thoughts.   Wishing she could take her sister into her confidence now, but fearing what might be amiss in the water garden pavilion, she soothed her sister’s disquiet quickly.  
          She went down the stairs at the swiftest pace that would not call attention to her.   Hearing barking as she neared the kitchen at the far left wing of the house, she was not surprised when Scamp came running toward her.   She smiled weakly when she bent and took her missing slipper from his mouth.
          “Thank you, Scamp,” she said, patting his silken head.   She raised her head and saw Jack watching from the stillroom door.   She came to her feet, her smile gone, because his face was somber.  
          The collection of aromas from within the small room reached out to draw her past the door.   When Jack closed it behind her, she was not surprised.   The tension that tightened every motion he made warned that something was terribly wrong.   Leaning back on the table where Cook made preserves and distilled potions and possets from the herbs in the kitchen garden, she asked, “What is it, Jack?”
          “‘Tis him, Lady Linnea.”
          “Mr. Bjornsson?”   There would be no other reason for Jack to wear such a grim expression.  
          “Aye, he was thrashing something terrible in his sleep.   Olive is worried that he would hurt himself or go mad.   Then—”
          “I shall go right out there.”   She glanced toward the door.   “Thank you for saying nothing in front of Randolph .”
          Jack scratched the side of his nose.   “I did not know if you had told his lordship about what you had found, so I did not want to say anything in his hearing.”
          “That was a good decision.”  
          He cleared his throat.   “Begging your pardon, my lady, but there is more.”
          “More?”  
          “Olive and I both had to leave him alone—”
          “I thought you understood that you should not leave him by himself.”
          “Aye, but ‘twas just a moment, and he was asleep and...”   He motioned for her to come closer.   In a whisper, he added, “I don’t know how anyone in his poor condition could wreck everything in the water pavilion.”
          “Wreck?”
          “The bench is in pieces, and the pallet torn.”   He swallowed roughly.   “There was blood on the floor.”
          “Mr. Bjornsson?”
          “Don’t know.   Can you come now, my lady?”   Again he hesitated, shuffling his feet, then asked, “What did Lord Sutherland have to say about Mr. Bjornsson?”
          “I have not had a chance to speak with Papa.”
          “An alert should be sounded.”
          “Papa is on his way to town.   I will speak to him after I come with you to see the pavilion.   By then, he should have returned.” She shivered, trying not to imagine what she might find there.   She pulled on her broken bonnet, stuffing her hair beneath it.   She glanced around the stillroom.   Once she determined how Nils was hurt, she would come here and get what she must to ease his pain.  
          A fine mist was rolling in off the sea as she hurried with Jack toward the water garden.   Skipping across the stones on the driveway, for she had left her other slipper in the parlor upstairs, she hurried after him.   Jack’s shoulders were still as rigid as the branches of the trees