illed with contempt, while he drew his whip across his palm in a menacing gesture meant to be a threat only for her. She simply turned her back on him, pretending to be amused as Andriçk and Hagen exchanged boasts on who would win the most races that day.
When Mylan appeared at the edge of the gathering crowd she did not recognize him at first glance for he had grown a beard. While it was neatly trimmed and a handsome complement to his classic features, she had expected him to look exactly as he had when they had parted. She glanced down at her shimmering gown, hoping he would be as pleased by her appearance as she was by his, for despite her attempts to appear indifferent, she had spent more than an hour arranging her gleaming curls to look her prettiest. She hoped she could impress him with her beauty and that then she might have the opportunity to make him see reason if his mood was truly as good as Olgrethe had sworn it to be.
When Olgrethe gripped her arm tightly, her daydream came to an abrupt end, and she asked in surprise, “What’s wrong?”
“Look who’s here, it’s that snake, Estrid!” Olgrethe nodded to their left as a petite young woman with flaming red hair rushed up to greet Mylan. He returned her charming smile with a wide grin, then leaned down to kiss her lips lightly before leading his stallion toward the starting line of the first race. The whole incident had taken no more than a few seconds, but the affection existing between the attractive pair was unmistakable even at a distance.
Celiese grew pale, unable to draw a breath or create a coherent thought as the sharpest of pains pierced her heart. She was overwhelmed with sorrow, for Mylan had not even seen her; he had had eyes only for the lovely redhead, whose creamy white skin showed not the faintest trace of freckles. Although diminutive, her proportions were perfect, and Celiese was too devastated to be jealous.
“She’s very pretty isn’t she?” she finally managed to murmur, too distraught to reveal the depth of her torment, but she had never met the young woman and had had no idea she would be so enchanting a creature.
“Aye, she is a beauty,” Andrick readily agreed, but when Olgrethe poked him in the ribs he realized how tactless he had been. “I mean, there are some who think she is attractive,” he stammered, trying to make amends and failing.
“Well, who invited her?” Olgrethe demanded sharply. “After what she did to Mylan, how dare she show her face here?”
“I would not pursue that question, Olgrethe, for you will insult your own friend as well as yourself if you do.” Hagen reached for Celiese’s hand, and although she tried to pull away he drew her close to his side as he whispered, “Since Mylan already has someone to cheer for him, I expect you to yell encouragement to me.” With that command he leaned down to kiss her, his mouth bruising her lips before he let her go, leaving her too embarrassed by the stares of those surrounding them to do more than watch as he strode off to get his horse.
Olgrethe gave Andrick an affectionate hug as he left, then put her arm around Celiese’s waist and held her tightly. “I’m going to find out why that bitch Estrid is here, but don’t you worry, she’ll not ruin our plans.”
“Your plans,” Celiese hissed angrily, but it was too late for her to flee to the serenity of the house when all around them the men were mounting horses and issuing loudly voiced challenges. The course that had been laid out was a treacherous one, demanding stamina as well as speed from the horses, but many of the riders were young and therefore unnecessarily reckless. Raktor had loved races, and if a few riders were thrown, perhaps badly injured or maimed, he considered it no tragedy, as skill was as greatly admired as courage in Viking sport. Celiese had never been such a close observer at those races, however, and she found Olgrethe’s enthusiasm difficult to emulate.
When Erik approached them with a ready grin, she welcomed the distraction he presented. “Aren’t you going to ride in the races as your brothers do, Erik?”
The handsome young man laughed as he shook his head. “Just look around youâ??while the other men ride off to choke on dust, I have my choice of lovely young women to court. I am no fool.”
Celiese smiled at his jest, for clearly he was having as much fun milling through the crowd of spectators and talking with his friends as those who had just dashed off on horseback.
Olgrethe touched his arm, intent upon learning who had dared to ruin her well laid plans to get Mylan and Celiese back together. “Do you know how Estrid came to be here today, Erik? I know your family and hers were once close but I’d not expected to see her here, since she broke her engagement to Mylan for so foolish a reason.”
“My mother invited her. I went to her home myself,” Eric responded casually, not understanding his sister-in-law’s concern.
“You did not think such an invitation odd?” Olgrethe inquired suspiciously.
Erik frowned, and shrugged, “Odd? Yes, I suppose so, but no more strange than having your brothers here, which was my father’s idea. What is the purpose of this party if it is not to give thanks for the harvest and for new friends as well as old?”
Casting Erik a hostile glance, Olgrethe made no reply, but when he moved on to find more agreeable company she whispered to Celiese, “Do you think we should go over and introduce ourselves to Estrid, since Thulyn has not bothered to do so?”
“Go ahead if you’d like, but I’ve no wish to meet her.” Celiese lifted her hand to shade her eyes as a cloud of dust loomed in the distance. The race began and ended in the same spot, near where they stood, and she tried to move back away from the path, but all around her people shoved and pushed to gain a better vantage point for the end of the race. Suddenly she was pitched forward. Nearly losing her balance, she would have fallen in the dust of the roadway had Olgrethe not swiftly caught her arm and pulled her back to safety. When the horses streaked by their hooves thundered in her ears with the echo of doom, and she escaped death by mere inches.
“Celiese!” Olgrethe hung on, dragging her trembling companion away from the race course, but not before she had looked around quickly to see Estrid standing nearby. “What happened? You were by my side and then you nearly sprawled into the path of the horses!”
“Someone shoved me, put their hands in the middle of my back and pushed with all their might. Had you not caught me, I would have been trampled to death.” Celiese was still shaking by the time they reached the house, sick not with fear but with the knowledge someone hated her enough to wish her dead. “Did you see who was directly behind us?”
“No, I was watching the riders, then you, but I did see Estrid out of the corner of my eye. Perhaps she was the one who pushed you.”
Celiese fought to catch her breath and sipped the cup of water Olgrethe brought her. Attempting to think logically, she recalled the faces of the guests who had surrounded them. She had met most of them at her wedding and was certain they all remembered her. “I doubt it was Estrid when so many others have a better reason to hate me. I was a fool ever to leave my room today.”
Sinking down by her side, Olgrethe explained that her original plan had been far more simple. “I had expected the Vandahls to invite their close relatives, aunts, uncles, cousins, not those and every friend they’ve ever made. With all the entertainment they have planned it is plain they didn’t want anyone to have a moment to even speak with me, let alone become my friend.”
Celiese set the small cup aside and gave Olgrethe a sweet hug. “We are both disappointed then, and I am so sorry for I know today meant as much to you as it did to me.” They were still sitting together, each lost in her own thoughts, when Andrick found them. When Olgrethe explained what had happened he was as concerned as his bride to think someone had intentionally tried to harm Celiese.
“You must stay with us today. I mean that, for the entire day I want you with us, Celiese. None will dare to insult or harm you when you have my protection.”
He looked so genuinely concerned she readily agreed to his request. “Thank you, I will do as you ask. In all the excitement, we missed seeing who won the race. Who was it?”
“It was close, but I beat Mylan by a good foot,” he announced proudly. “He claims now that his stallion had not had the proper rest after his journey here, but I beat him all the same.”