She cast him a look that implied he was daft. “Of course I am a woman. But I have never done women’s work.”
“’Tis beneath you, I suppose?” he asked in a sarcastic tone.
“Aye,” she answered, unabashed.
Garrick grunted and shook his head. “They told me you were offered as my bride. Would you have come, neither knowing how to run my house nor how to assume a wifely role?”
“I can run a house, Viking!” she snapped, her eyes stormy. “My aunt taught me all there is to know about women’s work. But I never put those lessons to use. And for my being offered as your bride, ’tis so. But know that the prospect was loathsome to me, and I agreed only because my father had given his word that an alliance would be made. At leastwehonor our word when ’tis given!”
Her implication was not lost on him. “I played no part in the deception that was used. Do you blame me for it?”
“Nay, I know where the blame lies!” she spat. “He will pay one day!”
Garrick smiled at her threat. So his father was right when he said she hated him. From her defiant attitude, he could almost believe the other things Anselm had said also. He let his eyes travel over the length of her. Could this small girl have wounded a Viking? Nay, ’twas not likely. Her slim form was made for pleasure, not wielding a sword. Again he felt a strong attraction to her, and it rankled him. She was indeed dangerous—not in her threats, but in her beauty. He did not trust women, and only took them when the need was strong. Otherwise he shunned them, and he determined that this woman would be no different.
“If you do not blame me for your being here, then why do you direct your anger at me?”
“You are a fool, Viking, if you have to ask! I am brought here and then you come and say you own me. Well, no man ownsme!No man!”
“So we are back to this again?” he sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “I am not yet ready to prove the issue, mistress, but when I am, you will know for a certainty who is master here.”
She laughed, feeling that his reluctance accorded her a victory. “I know you are master here, Viking. I did not think otherwise.”
The twinkle in her eyes made him smile. “As long as you concede me that, mistress, then I think we can get along without too many disputes.” With that he left.
The sharp teeth of a nightmare woke Brenna with a start and she jumped up, ready to do battle. Upon seeing her surroundings by the dim light filtering through the half-open door, she relaxed in her improvised bed of furs and stared thoughtfully at the dark walls.
Was it morning or still night? How could those Vikings drink all night and still be at it?
The rumbling of her belly prompted Brenna to rise. Was she supposed to starve while waiting for them to remember she was here? To the devil with them! She would search out her own food. Anger and determination lighting her eyes, she left her place of confinement. She was not so foolish as to venture down the inside stairs, for they ended within sight of the hall. Instead she went the way she had gone before, down the stone steps that led outside, then to the open door at the rear of the house, where fragrant smoke was coming out.
Brenna peered nervously inside. She saw two women, one old and the other not much younger, turning a whole pig over a roasting pit. Behind them, Janie removed two loaves of flat bread from a long-handled iron tray and placed them with several others in a large basket sitting on a table. Yarmille was nowhere in sight, so Brenna stepped carefully inside the long, narrow room.
Janie’s eyes widened when she saw her. “Brenna! Oh, Lord, I forgot about you again. I have been so busy,” she apologized, “ever since Yarmille roused me from my sleep.”
“’Tis all right, Janie. I only just woke anyway. What time of day is it?”
“’Tis afternoon, and many others are just now waking too,” Janie replied tiredly, pushing her stringy hair away from her face.
“No wonder I am so famished,” Brenna said, surprised that she had slept so long. “Have they been like that the whole night?” she asked, nodding toward the hall and the raucous sounds coming from it.
Janie sighed. “Yea, it has not stopped. Some passed out from overindulgence, but most were wise enough to retire for a while before continuing the celebration. Still there are those who are bleary-eyed and still singing in their cups.”
“When will it end?”
Janie shrugged. “Mayhaps on the morrow, hopefully. But you had best return upstairs quickly, Brenna. The men drift in here from time to time to bother us. ’Twould not go well for you if you were seen. They have had their fill of me and Maudya, who is even now in the guest room. They go wild over a new wench who they have yet to try.”
“I understand,” Brenna replied, sure that Janie was exaggerating. After all, Garrick had not once looked at her like that.
“I will make you a platter now and bring it up.”
“Very well.” Brenna turned to leave.
But she had lingered too long. Behind her came a roar that sounded like a wild beast. Alarmed, she glanced over her shoulder and saw a burly giant stomping toward her. Two others stood by the opening to the hall, laughing and cheering him on.
“Brenna, run!” Janie screamed.
Although it was against Brenna’s nature to run from anything, her common sense told her this was not an opportune time to take a stand, for she had no weapon and was unquestionably outnumbered. She bolted for the door, but had lost too much time debating with herself. The Viking grabbed her long braid and jerked her back against him.
