A Viking For The Viscountess by Michelle Willingham Page B

lands. That was the reason why he’d been sent here, and he had to believe that defeating her enemies would win him the honor he needed to reach Valhalla.
    But he did want to visit the ruins of his brother’s longhouse. Magnus had placed the stone at the center of his settlement, and Arik wondered if the runes would reveal any missing pieces of the past.
    “We must go to my brother’s settlement,” Arik insisted. He was certain that this was somehow a part of his purpose. Of all the places the gods could have sent him, why else would he be back at his brother’s longhouse?
    “Now?” Juliana questioned. “But we cannot simply trespass on the duke’s lands. His Grace may not be receiving visitors.”
    Arik ignored her misgivings and answered, “First, we will go there.” He pointed toward the stone monolith.
    “Why?”
    “We will find answers there,” he said. “Possibly my brother’s hoard of gold, if we are fortunate. You may wish to find a digging tool.” If he did find the hoard, they could use it to hire mercenaries. Despite the thousand years that had passed, the promise of wealth was a timeless offering to any man.
    Arik opened the door and began striding toward the stairs while Juliana hurried behind him. “We cannot trespass upon the duke’s land, much less dig holes there,” she insisted. “It isn’t right.”
    He dismissed her protests, certain that this was where he needed to be. “We’ll get our horses first. You said they were in the stables?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “Good. We leave now.” He allowed her to shut the door behind them, and she muttered something about his stubbornness.
    She would soon change her mind, if his brother had indeed left behind a hoard of gold and treasure. Such wealth would give Juliana a very different sort of power, one she desperately needed.

    It was becoming painfully obvious that Arik Thorgrim believed he was a Viking. A very stubborn, bull-headed Viking who wouldn’t listen to reason, no matter what she told him. She didn’t believe his tale of traveling through time, and undoubtedly she ought to be more than a little afraid of him. It was madness that she’d brought him to Hawthorne House.
    But…beneath his arrogant confidence, she suspected that he would try to help her son. He had been patient and kind to Harry, and when they’d said farewell, the boy had hugged him. It had hurt to see them together, as if Mr. Thorgrim were the sort of man who could be a father to Harry.
    No. If he wanted to help them, that was all right, but he could never stay. It wasn’t good for either of them.
    They continued riding toward the stone monolith, and Juliana prayed that none of the duke’s servants would see them. Otherwise, she would have to invent a reason why they’d come.
    Mr. Thorgrim hardly cared that they were trespassing. Moreover, he’d brought a shovel with him and two empty feed sacks. Why in the world would he believe a treasure was buried near the stone monolith? Even if there was, surely thieves would have found it by now. But her protests had fallen upon deaf ears. He simply sent her a look as if he didn’t have to explain himself.
    Once they reached the standing stone, he dismounted and helped her down. He tethered the horses to let them graze and then walked over to the monolith.
    “Do you recognize it?” she asked.
    Thorgrim nodded. He ran his hands over the rough granite, as if searching for something. She did the same but could see nothing. “What are you looking for?” The gray stone had worn and weathered over time, and rose several inches above her in height.
    “My brother carved runes upon this stone. Sometimes he marked the location of his hoard, using markings only his family would understand. But they are gone now.” He ran his hands over the surface, and the expression on his face was uneasy. “I wonder if the wind and rains wore them off the stone over these thousand years.”
    A cold breeze swept over her nape, and Juliana