“The other children are afraid to play with the lord’s sister, and you should not be speaking to her, either,” Eda hissed in her ear.
Kristen gave the older woman a frigid look. “Until ’tis forbidden, I will speak to whomever I please.”
“Will you, wench?” Eda retorted. “Then do not be surprised if ’tis forbidden immediately, for he looks none too pleased.”
Kristen had no time to wonder what Eda meant, for her shoulder was pinched in a cruel grip that spun her about to face a very angry Saxon.
Royce had no thought for his sister, for he had not even noticed that she was in the hall. When he entered the long room, his eyes were drawn directly to the tawny head in the cooking area. He had not seen her since she left his chamber yesterday, for he had taken his evening meal with his cousins in Alden’s room, deliberately staying away from the hall, where the wench would be.
While she stood at the end of the worktable, with her back to him, his eyes had traveled leisurely down her long frame from top to bottom. It was when they stopped on the iron about her ankles, clearly visible because of the unseemly short length of her chainse, that his ire rose. Even from across the room he could see the blood soaking the side of her cloth shoe.
His countenance was stormy now. “If you think festering wounds about your feet will cause those shackles to be set aside, you are mistaken!”
Kristen relaxed, knowing now what caused him to growl at her so abrasively. “I did not think it.”
“Then explain yourself! You were told to pad that iron with cloth.”
“I forgot to ask for the cloth,” she fibbed. Then she added baldly, “I was shuffled down here before the sun even rose and set immediately to work. I confess I was more asleep than awake and not thinking of something that has become so much a part of me.”
Some of the heat left his expression, leaving only a narrowed frown. She could see that he didn’t know whether to believe her or not. This she found so amusing that she laughed, confusing him even more.
“Ah, milord, I see you thought I hoped to stir your sympathy. Be assured I am not so foolish as to think you have such tender sentiments.”
He flushed with renewed anger, turning so livid she thought surely he would strike her. She had boldly insulted him, but doing it with humor to make it appear a left-handed compliment instead. Apparently he could not deal with such underhanded tactics from a woman.
He rounded on Eda, terrifying the poor woman with his expression. “Attend to her feet now, and see she does notforgetto pad the irons again!”
With one last furious look at Kristen, he stalked away. Eda left to fetch the cloth, grumbling that she had enough to do without having to pamper a heathen, one who didn’t have enough sense not to anger her lord. Kristen grinned, ignoring the old woman, her eyes following Royce until he left the hall. The Saxon was not so different from the men she knew.
“How did you dare laugh at him when he was so angry?”
Kristen had forgotten about Meghan. She looked over and smiled at her now, seeing those large green eyes filled with amazement and awe.
“His temper was not so terrible.”
“You were not frightened even a little?”
“Should I have been?”
“I was, and he was not even shouting at me.”
Kristen frowned. “Eda said he is your brother. Surely you are not afraid of him?”
“Nay…well, sometimes.”
“Sometimes? Does he beat you?”
Meghan seemed surprised by this question. “Nay, he never has.”
“Then why would you be afraid of him?”
“He might beat me. He is so big and looks so mean when he is angry.”
Kristen laughed now in sympathy. “Oh, little one, most men look mean when they are angry, but that is not a reflection of how they really are. And your brother is big, aye, but my father is even bigger—just a little bit bigger, mind you—and he has a terrible temper, too. Yet there is no kinder man than my father, nor more loving to his family. My brothers have tempers, too, and do you know what I do when they shout at me?”
“What?”
“I shout right back.”
