“Leave it, Eda. I am done with that.”
“Did he say so?”
“Nay, but—”
Eda ignored her and picked up the chain. “Until I am told otherwise, you wear this still.”
“Nay, I tell you he will not make me wear it now. Go and ask him.”
“Are you daft, wench? I would not dare to approach him over something so minor.” Kristen’s expression turned forbidding, but Eda held up a hand to forestall her tirade. “Give me no trouble on this, Kristen. If he is willing to trust you now, then he will tell me. Can you not wait until then?”
Nay, she wanted to scream, but to what purpose? In a few minutes—or at the most a few hours, if Royce was not in the hall—she would see him and would correct his forgetfulness. She could in fact wait, though she didn’t like it at all.
It was more than just a few hours, however, before she saw him, for he was gone the whole day. Eda learned from Meghan’s maid, Udele, that he had taken the child riding. Meghan returned to the hall in the early afternoon, full of excitement and rosy cheeked, but Royce was not with her. Eda remarked that it was rare when Royce found the time to amuse his sister. From the look of Meghan, she enjoyed it.
Kristen was subdued for a while, thinking how kind it was of Royce to find time away from his duties for his sister. But impatience was riding her hard, and fast turning to irritation, and hence to the same resentment she had felt the last time he had made love to her, then still insisted she be chained afterward. Was she wrong in her assumption? Could he be so tender with her in bed, then feel no guilt at all in shackling her when she was not with him?
The last meal of the day was in progress when Royce entered the hall. Kristen watched him avidly as he crossed the hall to the long trestle table set up in front of the great hearth. When she caught his eye, he smiled at her and the anger melted away. God above, he was a devastating man. She hoped he would never realize the havoc he could cause her senses. He was powerful enough without arming him with that knowledge, too.
Darrelle claimed his attention, and Kristen went back to filling the platters that would be carried to the table. She had been wrong again. He was not hard-hearted, just forgetful. As soon as he saw that she was still chained, he would be contrite and make amends for his thoughtlessness.
Before the hall was half emptied and settled for the night, Royce approached her. He was well sated with food, had shared a few ales with his men, and water was even now being heated for a leisurely bath. She had filled two of the buckets herself from the vat over the fire.
He stopped beside her, not too close, and did not look at her, but at the mounds of dough set out on the table for the morn. “How fared your day, wench?”
She glanced to the side to see he still was not looking directly at her, and she realized he would not with so many people still about. “Well, milord.”
“Your night will fare even better.”
He promised this in a husky whisper, causing quivers to erupt in her belly. But then he walked away toward the bathing room, and she stared after him incredulously. It was not possible that he could not see the iron bands about her ankles when he approached her, for black as they were, they stood out plainly between her skirt and shoes, both of a lighter color. Nor could he have missed the longer chain running across the floor from the wall to where she stood at the table. The women complained at having to step over it so often during the day. It too stood out plainly.
Rage flayed her senses until her hands trembled. God smite his green eyes and black heart! To share his bed without his trust made her no better than a whore! She was done with being used.
“I have said it afore, wench. ’Tis too soon for him to trust you. Bide your time.”
Eda stood at her back. Kristen did not turn to answer. She gripped her hands to still the trembling and brought her emotions under control. The rage settled in contempt.
“I will have scars on my ankles if I bide my time. Well and good. ’Tis no more than I deserve for consorting with my enemy. I will take the scars and wear them as penance.”
“Penance! God’s mercy, you sound almost like a Christian. Do you have priests, then, for your many gods who demand penance?”
Kristen did not answer. Coldly she demanded, “Are we finished, Eda?”
“Aye.”
Eda bent at her feet to unlock the wall chain. She removed the shackles while she was at it, to make it easier for Kristen to mount the stairs. She was in fact feeling some of the girl’s misery. It could not be easy being favored by the lord, only to a point.
“Come along, then,” Eda said gruffly.
She trusted Kristen to follow behind her. She did, but only because bolting for freedom without a weapon or a plan would be foolish indeed. But, as before, she went no farther than her own door, though Eda walked on. This time, though, she stopped short on entering her chamber. It had been barren always, but now it was completely empty.
She felt Eda at her back again. “What means this?” she demanded sharply.
“Milord said naught about your restrictions to me, Kristen, but he did say you would use this chamber no more. The only bed at your disposal now is his.”
That brought a harsh laugh. “Truly? Well, I would prefer the hard floor here to what he offers.”
“He will be angry, wench.”
