“If?” Brighit stood again, her voice louder now. “I have given you no reason to think I was a wanton woman. Why would you behave as if I am?”
He remained sitting, leaning his head back to look up at her. “I am at a loss to explain this situation. You are the only woman with three men. None of which I believe are your relatives. Am I mistaken?”
The sob carried to him. He took his time standing.
“Are you Ivan’s property? Do you warm his bed?”
An open-mouthed sob now. She covered her hand with her mouth.
“I do not wish to cast stones but to understand.”
“I—I am no—not his whore!”
She gave him her back.
“I don’t expect you to believe me,” she said. “I don’t expect the other men to believe me. I don’t expect anyone to believe me. Ivan has said as much.”
He placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Please tell me what is amiss. I will do my best to assist you in whatever you need.”
She faced him. “I wish only to be taken to the Priory.”
Brighit shoved past him, pushing the whistle at him. He followed. She returned to the carriage.
The men slept on, oblivious to the goings on around them. It was just as well. Peter had missed a chance to learn what he needed. He returned the whistle to Andrew’s bag and returned to his earlier position. He settled back against the same tree.
“I take it things did not go well,” Mort spoke without moving. Naturally he was awake to witness his failings.
“Go back to sleep.”
The little man was quiet and Peter was shocked to think he was finally obeying his orders.
“Perhaps you will get a chance to question her alone again and you can be more... judicious in your questioning.”
Peter stretched out on the ground, his back to Mort. “Perhapsyoushould take your sleep when you can. I believe you will have your hands quite full come daybreak.”
Chapter Ten
Brighit turned once again in the cramped confines of her carriage. She knew the moment she fell asleep the sun would rise and the rest of the camp would be stirring. She was right.
“Hey!” Ivan poked at the curtain. “You need to join us, not lay about all day in your private chambers.”
The other men laughed at his jest. She couldn’t be sure she heard Peter’s laugh with the others. He probably did laugh, finding it quite funny even.
Are you Ivan’s property? Do you warm his bed?
What audacity. If that were so, wouldn’t Ivan have joined her in the carriage? She jerked herself up. That would be awful. Her stomach lurched. Surely if the little man wanted to lay a claim to her, that would be all he would need to do. She sent up a prayer of thanks he had not done so thus far, promising anew to give him no reason.
She tugged her cap tightly over her hair and slipped her kirtle over her bed clothes. Thank goodness she’d found something else to sleep in rather than to wear her dampened gown. The night had turned cold once the clouds broke. A few moments by the fire now would help the last bit of material dry more fully. Mort had showed her kindness and didn’t seem to be cut from the same cloth as the knight he served.
Brighit jumped down from the carriage. All eyes were on her as usual. It seemed odd that they always watched her. She imagined their tongues nearly touching their chins like a dog eager to receive a bone. As usual they all grinned at each other as if she had done something quite alluring rather than just stepping out of the carriage.
She caught Peter’s eye before he turned around. He had a scowl of disbelief on his face. Mort, however, smiled and stepped toward her.
“I will do my best to be closer to assist you the next time.” His words were for her ears only. Gallantly, he took her fingertips in his hand and escorted her to the side of the fire, even brushing off a rock for her to sit on.
“My thanks.” Such kindness.
Peter appeared as a man ready to strangle someone. Was he angry that Mort had shown her such thoughtfulness?
