“Open it.”
She lifted the lid. Inside, on a bed of blue velvet, were a matched pair of gold arm rings in the shape of coiled snakes, with bright red rubies for eyes. She knew that for the Vikings, rings like these were prized. She had seen Hugh’s wife wearing gaudy bands on her bare arms, and even Heloise wore arm rings. The men did too. The wealthier the man, the more costly the arm ring.
These that Garrick showed her were tasteful. She lifted one and found it was heavy—made of solid gold, no doubt.
Brenna met his eyes again. They shone softly with aqua lights.
“Why do you show me these?” she asked, handing the chest back to him.
Garrick kept his hands at his sides. “I do not show them to you, Brenna. I give them to you. They are yours—the chest too.”
She looked at the rings again, then stared at him incredulously. “Why?”
“’Tis my wish.”
“To give a slave such costly trinkets?” She became incensed. This was his way of assuaging his guilt for locking her in that horrible cell. But she would not forgive him for that. “When do I wear them, Garrick? When I am washing your clothes? When I sweep the hall? Nay, I will not wear your gift.”
“You will!” he said sharply, his eyes darkening. “And you will also wear the gown my mother is now making for you. You will wear them when you come with me to the feast at my father’s house to celebrate the winter solstice.”
Brenna was thoroughly taken aback. “Yourmotheris making a gown for me?”
“At my request,” he answered curtly.
Brenna was amazed that Heloise would agree to make a gown for a slave. She knew Heloise was Christian and kindhearted, but still, to spend her time sewing for a servant was incredible. Just as surprising was the fact that Garrick would take her to Anselm’s settlement, and for a feast, no less.
“I do not understand, Garrick. Why will you take me to your father’s house now, when every time I have asked you to take me there to see my family, you refused?”
“You needed time to adjust to your new life, without remembrances of home. You have done that.”
“You honestly think I have adjusted, after I only just tried to escape you?”
“I did not say you have adjusted to me, mistress, but to your new life.”
“But why will you take a slave to a feast? Is that ordinarily the custom?”
“Nay, but I do not conform strictly to custom. You will come along to serve my needs.”
She gasped at his meaning. “And if I refuse?”
“You cannot refuse, Brenna,” he laughed. “You go wherever I take you.”
“Mayhaps. But I can make it most difficult for you,” she remarked slyly. “Still, I will go on one condition—that I have a dagger to wear.”
“Agreed.”
She smiled and crossed to the door, his gift still in her hands. She felt she was the winner this time. Garrick was getting soft.
“As to my taking care of your needs while there, we will discuss that when the time is at hand.”
“There will be no discussion.”
“You can be sure there will be,” she countered, and left him to brood on it.
The day of the solstice feast came sooner than Brenna would have liked. Though she was eager to see her aunt again, and she had many choice words to say to Cordella, who would rue the day she had lied to Brenna, she was not looking forward to being in Anselm’s house, wanting to hate him, yet knowing she had much to be grateful to him for. And to go there with Garrick, before all, not as his slave but as his woman, wearing his gifts. She wondered if she could bear the humiliation of it.
Brenna wanted desperately not to go, but knew she must. Garrick was in high spirits over the whole affair. He was adamant that she accompany him. He would drag her there if she offered resistance.
Brenna looked down at the beautiful gown that clung delicately to her slim body. It was rich red velvet, not too heavy, and shot through with gold thread. It was a simple design, sleeveless, in the Viking fashion, with a gently curving neckline. Most startling was the wide gold belt studded with rubies to match the arm rings she wore.
