Anna Markland - Viking Roots Medieval Romance Saga 02 by The Rover Defiant Page B

snorted then narrowed his eyes at Torstein. “My wife is right. It is a good idea for you to avoid Sonja, don’t you agree, nephew?”
    Here again was the familiar challenge. Be subservient, or be a man.
    He tightened the muscles in his gut. “We’ll see,” he said, stripping off his soiled shirt. “Beat you to the river, onkel .”

MIXED EMOTIONS
    Cathryn touched a hand to Torstein’s arm as their destination came into view. “I’ll take Magnus now if you wish.”
    She had delayed asking because both man and baby looked comfortable and content. Her son had fallen asleep in the sling tied around Torstein’s body, his knees tucked to his chest. A strong hand supported the babe’s head. As they’d made their way to the Ragnarsen house, Torstein had frequently pressed his lips to Magnus’s forehead.
    She didn’t recall ever seeing a Viking male carry a babe across his body this way and supposed Torstein’s upbringing had inured him to any suggestion of weakness. She thought his tenderness made him look strong. He would be a good father.
    His future was more worrisome now. It was evident Bryk disapproved of his nephew’s interest in Sonja. Cathryn understood the chasm between them, but this was a new land; surely new rules might come into play.
    Perhaps Sonja’s display of nerves at the Archbishop’s house had been caused by feelings she had for Torstein. If love was destined to blossom between them, Cathryn saw nothing wrong with nurturing it. Bryk’s love had brought her new life. Before the Vikings’ conversion to the Christian faith, it was unlikely they would have married, but historic events had changed things. Was a different world awaiting Torstein and Sonja?
    “Cathryn,” Torstein said, jolting her out of her daydream. “Do you want to take him?”
    She shook her head. “You can keep him if you wish.”
    He smiled. “I will, but I expect as the only male I’ll be quickly shooed from the house.”
    Her belly turned over. Was Torstein expecting to be refused entry? She would insist he accompany her. “Ingeborg’s father won’t be at home?”
    He smirked. “A Viking nobleman won’t attend a gathering of women. It’s beneath his dignity.”
    The door was thrust open. She recognized the young thrall who appeared to usher them inside. The girl’s eyes widened at the sight of Torstein’s fine clothing.
    He whispered her name in greeting. “Puella.”
    She avoided his gaze, but Cathryn caught a glimmer of a smile.
    Three women bustled into the hallway, one carrying a baby girl. She supposed this sullen individual was Ingeborg, then chided herself for the unchristian thought that it was a pity the babe had such a pronounced nose.
    Four toddlers emerged from behind the women, all with the same hooked nose. They must have inherited it from their father, since Ingeborg’s face bore no extraordinary features. She was simply plain. It was the silvery blonde hair, rosy cheeks, perfect nose and big dark eyes of the sister standing beside her that drew the eye.
    The eldest of the three women glanced at Torstein, her brow furrowed, then held out her hands to Cathryn. “ Velkommen ,” she gushed. “I am Olga.” She waved in the direction of the woman with the baby. “Ingeborg’s mother, and Ida’s grandmother.”
    Cathryn noted she spoke in Norse, making no effort to communicate in the Frankish tongue. Nor did she introduce the red faced Sonja, who was doing her best not to look at Torstein.
    “Good day,” Cathryn replied to her hostess in Norse. “I am Cathryn Kriger, and this is my husband’s nephew, Torstein.”
    She reached to take her son from Torstein’s hands. “And this is Magnus Bernard Kriger.”
    Ignoring Torstein, Olga seized Magnus. “He’s heavy!” she exclaimed.
    Her son looked like a giant next to the diminutive Ida, whose grandmother cooed and fussed over the two infants who stared at each other blankly. Ingeborg didn’t smile.
    Cathryn took the opportunity to speak to