"I cannot kill you, Garrick, even for my freedom. I do not know why, but the thought of you dead hurts so terribly."
Brenna trembled. "I am so cold. I am ill and he does not even know it. He will be sorry when he finds me dead.
How could he do this to me after I saved his life? 'Tis so cold, so cold."
"Yarmille, close the door before . . . before . . ."
Brenna floated in the warm lake, her eyes closed to the welcome sun. Not a care creased her brow. Not a thought disturbed her peace, gently floating, the warm water a natural balm.
She awoke and the warm lake was replaced by a soft bed which felt uncommonly hard for some reason. She blinked her eyes several times before she recognized Garrick's room, then turned her head to find him sitting beside the bed in one of the thronelike chairs, looking terribly haggard and unkempt. Yet he was smiling at her. And his eyes were warm.
"You do not look well, Garrick. Have you been ill?"
He laughed at her concern. "Nay, wench, I am fine. But how do you feel?"
She tried to sit up, but groaned. "I feel sore all over, as if someone took a stick to me." She glanced at him suspiciously. "Did you beat me while I slept?"
He looked affronted. "How could you think such a thing? You have been gravely ill for two days. 'Tis no doubt the sickness that has made you weak and sore." He got up and pulled the covers up about her neck. "The women have kept soup warmed for when you woke. I will bring you some."
Brenna relaxed in the big bed when he left. Is he sorry? He shows concern, but does he really care?
She could not wait for the food. Sleep took hold again and pressed her into peaceful darkness before he returned.
Chapter 29
« ^ »
THE last month of the year was a bitterly cold one, bringing snow and ice to the land in abundance. Brenna spent a good deal of the month in bed, having her every need pampered by Janie and Maudya. Even Rayna grudgingly brought her a special soup full of herbs known for their healing powers.
The women served Brenna eagerly. She was one of them, one who had narrowly escaped death. Yet she was also the master's favorite, which became more apparent every day, though Brenna did not see it so.
When Garrick finally pronounced her well enough to return to her chores and her own room, Brenna was hard pressed to hide her relief. However, the most strenuous task she was allowed to perform was to baste the hind quarter of a small boar with honey, and she was thoroughly annoyed that she was still being cosseted by the other servants, under Garrick's orders.
Brenna threw open the door to Garrick's chamber without knocking. He looked up from his evening meal, more startled by her presence in his room than by the loud banging of the door. He ignored her rigid stance and the stormy gray of her eyes and continued eating.
"You should be abed, mistress," he said sternly, without looking at her. "You have no doubt had a trying day and need your rest."
She came further into the room. "What I need is for you to relax your concern. I am not a cripple, Garrick," she said tightly, trying to control her temper.
She knew it was pointless to argue with him when he was so damned benevolent. She hated his new attitude. He was like a forgiving father with an errant child, when forgiveness was the last thing that was needed.
"Do you doubt that I am well?" she continued.
He shook his head, still not looking at her. "Nay, but you cannot be allowed to overdo things, Brenna. You nearly died, but were granted life. Is it not reasonable that you begin that new life with a measure of caution?"
"Nay, 'tis most unreasonable!" she snapped, forgetting herself. "First you keep me confined to bed longer than necessary. Now you treat me like a fragile doll that will break if moved. I am well, I tell you!" Brenna threw up her hands in exasperation. "God's mercy! I am not an idle person. I was ever willing to work in your stable but you said nay. If all you will allow me to do is work here, so be it. Yet I must have something to do."
"This is not what your sister would have me believe."
Brenna was startled out of her anger by his words. "You spoke with Cordelia?"
"Yea, at length."
Brenna clenched her fists. The thought of Garrick and Cordelia talking, laughing, making love together, drove everything else from her mind. So she was right. Those many nights Garrick had come home late, making her wait up for him, he had been with Cordelia!
"Brenna, come here."
"What?" she asked without hearing him.
"Come here!" he repeated.
Still she did not move or look at him. Finally he came to her and touched her cheek.
His fingers against her skin were like a shock, and she slapped his hand and backed away from him.
"Don't you touch me!" she cried, pain and anger in her voice. "Don't you ever touch me again!"
Garrick stared at her in confusion. "Thor, help me! What is wrong with you, woman?"
"You—you are mad if you think I will share you with my sister! If you want her, then you can have her, but don't you ever come near me again, or I swear I will kill you!"
A twinkle came into Garrick's eyes and he grinned in amusement. "Why would I want your sister when I have you? And why would you even think that, when I said only that I talked to her?"
"You have not made love to her?"
"Nay, I have not. But if I had, why should this upset you, Brenna?"
She felt her face redden deeply and realized how foolish she must have sounded, almost like a jealous wife. She turned away from him, wondering at her own reaction.
"Brenna?"
"I would not mind if you take another woman," she replied quietly, feeling that unwelcome lump rise in her throat. "If another can take care of your needs, I would be glad of it, for then you would leave me be. But 'tis not right that you should have both me and my sister. Can you not see the wrong of it?"
"Is that the only reason you will give me?"
Her eyes shot open wide. "There is no other."
"Very well, I will not press you for it."
She glared at him. "I tell you there is no other reason!"
Garrick grinned at her, his dimples deepening. "You take offense easily this night," he said with humor in his voice, and moved to his coffer. "Mayhaps this will lighten your temper."
She fixed her gaze on him, entranced for a moment at the way his golden hair fell over his forehead, making him look so boyish and harmless, not at all like the Viking warrior, ravisher and coldhearted master she knew him to be. She was loath to take her eyes from his face, but finally she looked at the box he took from his coffer and her eyes lit up with curiosity. As he came toward her, she could see that the box was a miniature chest carved in an Eastern design and inlaid with ivory. It was quite lovely.
She met his eyes as he handed the chest to her. "What is this for?"
"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 yo
ur 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. "Your mother is 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 kind-hearted, 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.
Chapter 30
« ^ »
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 Cordelia, 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.
Janie helped Brenna with her hair, twining thick braids interlaced with red ribbon about her head for a becoming effect. She was not at all jealous of the fact that Brenna would be a guest at Anselm's house, but was quite excited for her and chatted aimlessly about her good fortune.
Brenna did not feel that way, and became even more apprehensive when Garrick called for her. She met him in the hall, and was stunned by his appearance. He was dressed also in velvet, the fine, gold material molded to his muscles like a second skin. Red thread contrasted with the gold, and large rubies studded not only his belt, but also a gold medallion around his neck. She wondered if he had planned it this way, that they should look like a matched pair.
His wavy hair glistened gold in the firelight, but his eyes were cloudy when she noted him staring oddly at her.
"You are a jewel in a black sea, mistress," Garrick said softly, coming toward her.
She felt herself blush at the way his eyes looked her over. "The gown is lovely," was all she could manage to say.
"Yea, but 'twould not be as beautiful on another."
Now she was thoroughly ill at ease. " 'Tis not like you to play at flattery, Garrick."
"I speak only truth," he smiled. "There is much to me you have not yet seen."
"I am beginning to learn that."
All at once he was impatient. "Let us go. The feast has no doubt begun."
She nodded and followed him through the cooking area to where their cloaks hung by the back door. But hers was not there. In its place was a beautiful cloak of ermine, with a wide hood. She stood still while he draped it over her shoulders, then carefully placed the hood over her hair.
She looked up at him, her brows raised questioningly. "Another gift?"
He grinned. "Aye. Rich apparel becomes you. You shall have more of it."
" 'Tis not like you to be generous either, Garrick. Why have you changed?" .
"It suits me," he replied with a shrug, and at last handed her the dagger he had promised her.
She stuck the jeweled weapon in her belt, then looked at him in exasperation. "God's mercy! 'Twas better when you would brood and were predictable. I hate inconsistency!" she snapped, then stalked from the house, but not before she heard him chuckle at her sudden outburst.
A thick cloud of smoke from the cooking fires hung heavy in the hall, but Brenna preferred stinging eyes to the cold that they had just come from outside. She was still too chilled to give up her cloak, and it was just as well that she had that excuse, for as she looked about the room at the other women there, she saw that not one of them had a gown as rich as hers.
She blushed nearly crimson at the thought of their reaction to Garrick parading her before them. A mere slave adorned better than freewomen—it was unheard of. Brenna felt like Garrick's pampered whore, and knew that all would come to the same conclusion.
These thoughts plagued Brenna, and she grew increasingly bitter. She said nothing when Garrick left her at one table while he went to greet his family. She sat stonily silent, fixing her gaze in her lap, knowing that many eyes were turned her way. She continued to brood, and was startled when Heloise joined her.
"Are you pleased with the gown, Brenna?"
Brenna met the kind eyes and began to relax. ''Yea, I thank you."
"Then come, let me have your cloak. I did not spend many hours on such a lovely gown to have you hide it."
Brenna gave up the ermine cloak reluctantly, but found that she was not nearly so self-conscious with Heloise beside her. She was immensely grateful that the mistress of the house was taking the time to make her feel at ease.
"Yea, 'tis indeed lovely on you, child," Heloise smiled.
"You are very kind."
"Nay, I speak the truth. And I owe you my thanks, Brenna."
"I have done nothing."
Heloise glanced at Garrick standing with his father and some other men, then looked back at Brenna and placed a hand affectionately on her arm. "I have not seen my son so relaxed and actually in good humor for a very long time. For this I have you to thank."
Brenna blushed once again. "Surely you are mistaken."
"I think not. Oh, he did not want to fall prey to your charms and fought against it, but he has nonetheless. Have you not noticed the difference yourself?"
Brenna nodded slowly, avoiding Heloise's eyes. She could not agree with the other woman, yet surprisingly, the thought warmed her. Could that really be the reason for the startling change in Garrick since her illness? Could he have fallen in love with her?
Brenna was afraid to pursue such thoughts or speak of it further, so she quickly changed the subject "My aunt. May I see her?"
"Of course. Ah, she comes now. I will take my leave, so you may speak privately."
Brenna rose with Heloise just as Linnet reached them, but Brenna did not see her leave. Her eyes were on her aunt, and her tears fell as they embraced. All that Brenna had endured during the recent months came to her mind now that she finally had someone to confide in, but it did not seem half so bad in light of her aunt's situa
tion.
They sat down together, but Brenna would not release Linnet's hands. She took in her aunt's appearance with a critical eye, and saw that the older woman still did not look her age. In fact, her blue eyes sparkled with youth and vitality.
"You fared well, Aunt?"
"Heloise has made me feel as if I am part of her family," Linnet confided easily. "Yea, I fared very well."
"I am glad. So often I worried for you, but Garrick would not let me come here till now."
"He is very possessive, I think, and would like to keep you close to his home. I have heard much of you, Brenna, from Heloise. I know that you were terribly stubborn in the beginning, but I knew you would be. I know that you ran away, and also were deathly ill. I was frantic at the time. But here you are, well and honored. I am so pleased."
"Honored?"
"You are here as a guest, not as Garrick's slave. Yea, he honors you in this."
Brenna laughed dryly. "I know his reason, Aunt. I am here only to see to his needs."
"Come now, Brenna," Linnet reasoned. "There are many here who could do that. Also, he did not need to give you such beautiful gifts for what you imply. I was with Heloise when Garrick bid her make that gown for you. 'It must be in the Viking fashion,' he said, 'for she is one of us now.' "
Brenna knitted her brows in thought. "I have given him no reason to believe I am happy here. He knows I will escape again if given the opportunity. Why would he say I am one of them?"
"You must have given him some cause to believe so. But truly, Brenna, you must not try to escape again. If you succeeded and Garrick could not find you, I would forever worry over you."
"When I go, Aunt, 'twill be by sea, and I will take you with me," Brenna said hastily, doubtful that she could ever accomplish such a feat. Though she had tried to put her aunt at ease, what she said seemed to sadden the older woman instead.
"Ah, Brenna. I thought surely, seeing you here this day, that you had finally outgrown your wild ways. A mature woman would accept the fates that brought her here. She would be thankful she is alive and adjust to her new life, knowing there is no longer an old life to return to."
Fires of Winter - Viking 1 Page 22