When Janie left, Perrin grinned and leaned closer to Garrick. “I happened upon your new slave on the way here.”
“Oh?”
“Aye. I stopped by the women’s quarters first to see if Janie was there, but instead I found that black-haired beauty at her bath.”
Garrick’s eyes darkened. “And?”
“I wonder why you put her from you when your bed is big enough for two.”
“Humph!” Garrick grunted. “You must not have had words with her or you wouldn’t have asked that. She is a rose indeed, but her thorns are too sharp for my liking.”
“Oh, I had words with her—quite a few,” Perrin smiled.
“She boldly teased me, in fact, only to turn around and threaten me if I should touch her.”
“Did you?” Garrick scowled.
“Nay, but I’ll wager the next man will who comes across her. You do not mind sharing that one?”
“Why should I? Mayhapsthatwill put her in her place,” Garrick said sourly.
Perrin laughed. “You have yet to keep the promise you made at the feast? The wench is not tamed, eh?”
“You do not have to remind me of that drunken promise,” Garrick grimaced. He recalled it clearly, for he was notthatdrunk at the time, merely angered by his brother’s constant teasing that he could never handle such a termagant as Brenna. Placing his hands on the yule boar dedicated to the god Frey and drinking from the sacred cup, he had promised before all that he would tame her.
Little did he know then what a difficult chore he set for himself. The course he decided on had failed. She was not humbled by the outcome, but quite pleased, and since that was not the objective, it rankled him sorely. Yet to mar her with the lash would be useless, he knew; besides, his heart would not be in it. Although she would not bend to his will, at least she served him, even if it was not as he had first ordered.
“So she will not work for you?” Perrin asked.
“Nay, she works in the stable.”
“You allow that?” Perrin looked surprised.
“’Tis the only thing she would agree to,” Garrick admitted grudgingly, his scowl deepening.
Perrin’s laughter rang through the hall. “So the wench was right! ’Tis you who has been tamed, not her.”
“She said that?”
Perrin’s laughter died and he frowned at the black rage that gripped his friend. “Come now, Garrick. I would not cause the wench harm because of my words.”
“She will not be harmed, but by Thor, she will not be so pleased with herself on the morrow!”
A dark cloud seemed to have enveloped Garrick. Perrin watched him and sighed inwardly. He sorely regretted his rash words, and hoped the girl would not fare too badly because of them.
Garrick made his way to the slave quarters, a brooding anger eating at him every step of the way. Stealthily he opened the door to the women’s house and went inside. A soft reddish glow from the dying fire aided him in finding his quarry, and he moved to her.
Brenna was fast asleep on a mat by the hearth, curled under an old woolen blanket. Her silken hair was loose and flowed behind her, looking as if bedecked with rubies from the firelight. Long black lashes shaded her cheeks, and her parted lips were moist like dewy pink rose petals.
The sight of her so sweet and innocent in sleep stirred Garrick’s blood. That she was a she-devil when awake was forgotten. He bent and gently removed the blanket. When the chill air from the open door touched her bare feet, her face puckered in a frown and she pulled her legs up closer to her chest to seek the lost warmth. Her small form was hidden beneath a rough, voluminous nightdress no doubt given her by the plump Maudya, asleep across the room.
Garrick well remembered the silken limbs that were now wrapped up so snugly, the soft arms and long, tapered thighs, the firm twin mounds of her breasts and taut flatness of her belly. He thought too of the delicate curve of her waist and the gentle, rounded buttocks that begged to be patted, the velvety smoothness of her back and the satin hollows of her neck that he had kissed.
Garrick quickly shook the imaginings from his mind before they got the better of him, and he acted like a rutting stallion with no care for privacy. With a deft movement he clamped his hand over Brenna’s mouth to still her cry of alarm, for it would wake the others. Her eyes opened instantly, but before she could see who was abducting her, he picked her up and crushed her against the rock hardness of his chest, then carried her squirming form out into the night.
When he reached the stable, he put her down. She faced him angrily, her hair flowing over her shoulders to her waist like a raven’s cloak. Then she recognized him and her temper cooled completely.
“Oh, ’tis you,” she said in a tone that implied he did not merit her concern.
