“Do not mention him to me!” Brenna snapped, cutting her off. “He is the most hateful, mean, most distrusting person I have ever known!” Brenna stopped, biting her lower lip.
“Forgive me. He is your son and I suppose he can do no wrong in your eyes.”
“Nay, my son has done much that I am not proud of,” Heloise admitted.
Brenna fought to shake Garrick from her thoughts. “My aunt? Would you release her to sail home with me?”
“I do not know, child.” Heloise frowned. “She and I have become close friends, yet I suppose you will need her more than I. I will think on it and decide before you sail.”
“And my sister, and the other women from my village?” Brenna persisted.
“The others have made new homes, Brenna. From what I know, they are happy here.”
“As slaves?” She could not keep the sarcasm from her tone.
“You and I could argue endlessly over this issue, Brenna,” Heloise smiled. “I know how you feel and you know my views. These other women are no worse off than they were.” Brenna started to protest, but Heloise held up a hand so she could continue. “And your sister can never be released now, for she carries my oldest son’s child. I do not think she will want to return to a ruined estate anyway.”
Brenna cringed. She had not thought of that. She would have to build a new home to replace the old one. Even if the gray manor still stood, she could not bear to live there alone.
“You said there is a house where I may live until spring?”
“Yea, ’tis not far from here, near a small lake. And there is a well close to the house.”
“I will of course pay for the use of the house.”
“Of course.” Heloise said diplomatically, knowing better than to argue with stubborn pride. “The family who used the house last gave a share of their summer crop. But since you cannot do that, I think two furs a week will do for payment. I understand you have hunted game since you were a child, so this should not be too difficult for you.”
“Nay, ’tis too little. I will give three furs a week,” Brenna returned adamantly.
“Brenna!” Heloise admonished.
“I insist.”
The older woman shook her head, but smiled despite herself. “Then I insist you let me furnish you with salt, for you will end up with more meat than you can eat and will have to cure it. Also oats and rye, and some dried vegetables, for you cannot exist wholly on meat.”
Brenna nodded, satisfied. “I agree. And I will also have enough furs by spring to pay for my passage home.”
“Nowthatis not necessary, Brenna. Anselm will not hear of it.”
“Nonetheless, that is the way ’twill be.” And she turned and left the hall.
Heloise threw up her hands. “Foolish pride,” she muttered under her breath before she again started working at the loom.
The little house was perfectly suited to Brenna’s needs, and had been thoroughly cleaned before she arrived. It was small enough to contain the warmth of a fire, and very near the woods, where ample game roamed. In the house were iron pots for cooking, clean woolen blankets, a crossbow and snares for hunting, and even a change of clothing made of soft wool, and a warmer cloak.
The only thing that had not been provided was a tub to bathe in, but Brenna supposed that was because the small lake was so near. However, the lake was now covered with ice, and breaking that ice to wash in freezing water was not in the least tempting. She would manage with sponge baths until the weather warmed.
Brenna settled into her new home with the joy and excitement of a small child. She was independent now, solely responsible for herself. She luxuriated in her new freedom, but it did not take long for the novelty to wear off and loneliness to set in. With such complete solitude, she could not stop herself from thinking of Garrick constantly. When she saw him one day in the woods and they passed with the hostility of enemies, saying not a word, her brooding became even worse.
She would wear herself out hunting each day, then exhaust herself further by preserving the meat and treating the hides, finally making her meal for the following day before she would at last go to bed. Her days became monotonous, involving only work, as she tried desperately to keep her mind filled with immediate concerns.
The ice cracked and melted with the lengthening of daylight hours, but the weather seemed no warmer, so Brenna still chose not to bathe in the lake. Then new flowers began to take the place of winter blooms, and snow disappeared from most of the land. Spring had come to Norway.
Brenna was ecstatic when she saw the cart drawing near her house. She hoped it would be Heloise or Linnet, with news of how soon Anselm would sail. But she was so starved for company that she was not in the least disappointed when Janie and Maudya alighted from the cart that Erin had brought them in.
After warm greetings were exchanged, Brenna took them in her house, grateful that she had a generous meal stewing that she could offer them. Erin had brought a skin of wine which Garrick had given him over the winter celebration, and they all drank to each other’s health. Erin then went to cut wood for Brenna against her protests, for he felt uneasy around so many chattering women. At first Janie and Maudya were distant, awed by Brenna’s new status, but as they consumed more wine and felt Brenna’s genuine warmth, their unease soon disappeared.
“Erin told us what happened to you, Brenna,” Maudya started. “’Tis a wonder you are alive.”
