“I did not know you had enemies in your own land,” she said speculatively, her voice husky.
“’Tis the truth, but I met none this day,” he replied, his lips turning up in a slow grin as he came closer. “I must disappoint you, wench, and tell you that the blood is not mine, but that of the doe Avery is now skinning.”
“Avery?”
“He is another of my slaves.”
Garrick’s patent reminder of her status was not lost on Brenna. Color flushed her cheeks hotly and her silver gray eyes flashed at him.
“’Twould appear you bungled the kill,” she remarked derisively, her gaze returning to the blood stains. “Are you not aware that an arrow through the head makes a cleaner wound and a finer pelt?”
He laughed. “First you wager you know horses better than I. Now you would instruct me on the merits of hunting. When will you cease to amaze me, Brenna?”
She was rankled for a moment. She did not like it when he used her given name. He had only done so before in a tender moment.
“Your meal awaits you,” she said woodenly, anxious to be away from him as soon as possible. “Where will you have it?”
“Does this mean you will serve me?” he asked, his eyes looking over her body much too boldly for her liking. “Where are the others?”
“Mayhaps you do not know ’tis late, Viking,” she retorted irritably. “The others have retired for the night.”
“And you waited patiently for me?” He was behind her now, removing his heavy fur cloak. “This change in you is truly remarkable, Brenna. I find it odd that you did not seek your bed and leave others to see to my needs. Could it be you yearn for my company?”
“Ohh!” she gasped and sprang to her feet to face him. “You conceited jackal! I would sooner spend my time with a braying ass than with you!”
She started to stalk from the room but his sharp command stopped her after only a step. “I did not give you leave to retire, mistress!”
She turned furious, smoky eyes on him, but gritted her teeth and waited for him to continue. She bristled at the mocking smile that curled his lips. He was enjoying this!
“You will serve my meal,” he said in a level tone. “First you will prepare water for my bath.”
“A bath? Now?” she asked incredulously.
At his nod she groaned. Her hands were stiff and sore from the washing, for they were unaccustomed to the chore, the scalding water and abrasive soap. Now she would have to lug buckets of water up to his chambers! She balked at the thought.
“Why do you hesitate?” Garrick questioned, seeing the fleeting emotions cross her face. “A bath is a simple matter.”
“Then you do it!” she hissed. “I will not carry water up to your chamber.”
“I did not ask you to,” he replied. “I will have the bath here. Will that suit you?”
Indeed it would, she almost sighed. Instead she answered stiffly, “As you wish.”
She picked up two large buckets and went outside to the huge vat of fresh rain water at the side of the house. The cold wind lifted her skirts and sent a chill up her back. She filled the buckets, then almost dropped them when the handles bit into her sore fingers as she hauled them back into the house.
Garrick had moved the barrellike tub that had been beneath the stairs over in front of the fire. He stood back and watched her silently as she emptied the cold water into the tub. Her unconscious grimace left Brenna’s face when the buckets were light again. She reluctantly walked out of the warm cooking area of the hall to fill them again.
On her return this time Garrick met her at the door. “Prepare my meal!” he barked impatiently and took the buckets from her. “At your pace I would wait all night for my bath!”
Brenna hurried across the room to the hearth, grateful for his impatience, though she would not admit it was a kindness. It took many more buckets of water to fill the tub halfway. The amount of water Garrick brought was more than was needed for a bath, but Brenna said nothing.
She kept her back to him and filled a wooden platter with the stew Janie had prepared earlier. A loaf of flat bread and a tankard of ale were placed on a tray beside the stew, for Brenna did not know yet where he would eat. Right here, most likely, since the fires in the main part of the hall were low, thus making it an unwelcoming room. Nor had she thought to kindle a fire in his chamber—or in her own, for that matter.
With the cauldrons set to boil over the fire, Garrick came to the table and sat down on the long bench before his food. This time Brenna stood behind him, staring at the wide expanse of shoulders, the light gold hair that curled up off his neck, the huge, powerful bare arms that bulged with corded muscles. Brenna shook her head to avert her gaze, which had become almost hypnotized. The very sight of this man stirred something in her that she could not explain, and it frightened her.
“Have you eaten?” Garrick asked over his shoulder.
“Yea, long ago,” she murmured.
