Page 12 of Brigand

Morna, an older woman, a motherly type who served as thehousekeeper and cook, set Violet to work assisting with the baking and thewashing and helping Pippin load food into the pantry. The castle wasn’t usedmuch, she explained, but the McCloud had decided to move his operations herefor the time being.

Violet could tell from Morna’s expression she considered itViolet’s fault she’d been wrenched from her comfortable station to work on thisdesolate rock. The tasks she assigned her were onerous but not unmanageable.And at least she hadn’t commanded Violet to scrub the floor.

That task fell to Pip.

The first day was exhausting to Violet, who had never done awhit of manual labor. Carrying wood and water, kneading bread, rollingbarrels—it was all much more than she was used to. She didn’t mind—because itkept her away from the McCloud—but by the time supper was ready to be served,she was nearly asleep on her feet.

In a fog, she carried a heavy platter piled with sliced meatfrom the kitchen into the great hall. She rounded the corner and came to anabrupt halt.

An enormous black hound stood between her and the men in thehall. Its lips curled, showing sharp fangs. A low, guttural growl resonatedthrough the room.

Violet‘s breath wedged in her throat. Her pulse thrummed inher ears. Her vision wavered.

The beast took a step closer. Her gaze fixated on its hugepaws, larger than a man’s hand and tipped with lethal claws. Claws that couldrip flesh like a hot knife through butter.

She stepped back. And back again.

The beast advanced.

“He wants some meat,” Pip, at her side, whispered. “Justfeed him.”

Violet quickly tossed a chunk of ham onto the floor and asthe creature gobbled it up, she skirted around him to the table.

He followed, padding along behind her with glinting eyes.When she set the tray on the table and backed away, his attention stayed fixedon the platter and not on her, for which she was thankful.

She escaped to the kitchen, where she collapsed on the benchbeside the fire, heart flailing, knees shaking.

Pip tipped his head to the side and studied her. “It’s justa dog,” he said.

Violet pressed her palm to her chest to still the tremors.“It’s e-enormous.”

“Aw, he’s harmless. Once you get to know him.” The boyputtered at the counter, loading bread into a basket and scooping butter onto adish. He shot her a scornful glance. “Why don’t you stay here while I finishserving?”

“Would you?” Violet gushed with relief. She really shouldn’tbe a coward but she’d been attacked by an enormous hunting dog once in thewoods and if it hadn’t been for—she shook her head in an attempt to dislodgethe memory. “I’m so tired.”

Pip snorted and carried the rest of the food out to the menat the table. His disgust was plain but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Her feet hurt, her back ached and her dress had somehowacquired several more mysterious stains. She longed for a bath and a soft, warmbed. She was physically exhausted, emotionally spent and this last altercationhad drained her completely. She rested her head against the warm bricks of thecook fires and closed her eyes, trying very hard not to let the tears leak out.

She wasn’t a coward and she wasn’t a crier.

But she was very, very afraid.

* * * * *

Dinner had been over for a while when Ewan emerged from hisoffice with Wolfe padding at his heels. The men were chatting quietly aroundthe crackling fire in the great room, sipping ale. Jessie and Pip were playingcards at the table and Morna was knitting in the corner. Of Violet, there wasno sign.

A thread of panic coiled. Had she escaped? Why hadn’t hethough to secure her after the meal?

He stormed over to Morna’s chair and barked, “Where is she?”

His housekeeper surveyed him with a steady, unblinkingstare. “You have no call to speak to me in that tone of voice, young man.”

Good God. In his panic he’d forgotten.

Morna took no grief from anyone. And she shouldn’t have totake it from him. Not the woman who’d taken him under her wing when his motherpassed. Shown him how to care for a baby. Fed him. Kept him warm.

He was an ass.