He did not speak to her or acknowledge her for the rest of the return ride, and when they entered the yard he tossed the reins of his horse at her and strode away.
Brenna saw Garrick daily now, in the mornings when he went for his customary ride, and most days in the afternoon too. Each time he returned, he would turn the sweaty stallion over to her. They did not talk. In truth, he had not said one word to her since that day when he had rescued her. He did not even acknowledge her presence, except to toss her the stallion’s reins; then he would walk away stiffly.
Brenna often puzzled over why he ignored her so purposely, and wondered if what he had said was true, that he did not bother with women except when his body demanded he must. It rankled her some that she had no effect on him, for she had begun to think otherwise. He, on the other hand, still had the power to make her immensely aware of his presence. She would find at the oddest times that she had him on her mind, and this did not sit well with her. Most annoying was the fact that she could not forget that day he had sought to humble her, but had accomplished naught. Garrick had obviously dismissed it from his mind completely.
Brenna soaked in a small tub. Her head rested on the rim, and her thick black hair floated all about her in the warm water. Her thoughts were gentle, her mood relaxed.
She was alone in the small house; a fire blazed in the hearth nearby. Janie and Maudya were still up at the big house, no doubt serving Garrick his evening meal.
Brenna did not hear the door when it quietly opened, but she sensed the intrusion when cold air touched her face and made her shiver. She looked up to see a very tall Viking standing just inside the doorway, and surprised emerald eyes looking down at her.
“Go back the way you came, Viking, and close the door before I catch a chill.”
He closed the door, but from the inside, then moved closer to her. Brenna looked down to make sure her hair covered her body from view before she looked back at the intruder suspiciously. She had not seen this man before, but his height and build reminded her of Garrick, and her eyes admired him slowly. His face was pleasingly handsome, and she noted humor and even kindness there. The smile on his lips reached all the way to his eyes and crinkled their outer edges.
He obviously had not understood her order. This language barrier was indeed a nuisance. She could make herself clear, but still she would not. Instead she motioned with her hands for him to go, but he just shook his head, his smile broadening.
“Be gone, damn you!” she shouted in frustration.
“There is no need for you to get upset, mistress.”
Her eyes widened. “You speak my tongue.”
“Yea, Garrick taught me when we were young,” he replied, amused at her confusion.
“Who are you?” she finally asked.
“Perrin.”
Her expression became knowing. “If you have come for Janie, she is not here.”
“I can see that,” he replied and moved even closer. “So you are Garrick’s new slave.” He stated this as a fact, not seeing the hot fury that leaped into her eyes when he spoke. “I have heard much of you.”
“And I of you,” Brenna retorted angrily. “I do not respect a man who does not claim his son, or take the mother of that son to be his own.”
Perrin looked astonished; then he frowned. “So Janie has a loose tongue.”
“Do not blame Janie,” Brenna replied coldly. “She spoke of you only with love and pride, and does not hold your cowardice against you. You do not mind that other men bed the mother of your son?”
A look of deep hurt crossed his face. “I mind. But there is naught I can do about it yet. She belongs to Garrick.”
“And you fear to ask him for her,” Brenna said with obvious contempt.
“What I fear, wench, is his refusal, for then I could not ask again.”
“If I were you, I would take what I wanted. You Vikings seem ever willing to do that.”
Perrin suddenly laughed, surprising her. “So you are as arrogant and outspoken as they say. I see Garrick has not tamed you yet.”
Brenna smiled at this despite her earlier anger. “If you look closely, you will see that Garrick is the one who has been tamed. He was no match for me.”
“I wonder if Garrick agrees with that,” he replied, and finally moved next to the tub.
Brenna stared up at him impishly. “You like what you see, Viking?” she teased, amazed at herself for doing so.
“Most assuredly,” he answered.
“Well, if you have in mind to see more, you can forget it now. I will choose my own lovers, not they me. And you, to be sure, will not be one of them.”
