By Love Enslaved (12 page)

“Let’s not argue. Just tell me the man’s name, and I’ll send him away tonight. That will keep anyone else from bothering you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Brendan insisted stubbornly, his hopes that she might come to care for him dashed. It was now obvious she put him in the same category as the animals on the farm, and his only value was in his price. “You needn’t trouble yourself about me,” he continued, adopting his oft-worn sneer.

“Must you be so obstinate?”

“In this matter, yes.”

As he approached his house, Erik overheard the last of Dana and Brendan’s conversation. He stepped up to the door and quickly satisfied his half sister’s curiosity. “I hit him, Dana. He insulted me, and I made him pay for it. There’s nothing more to it than that. Now come, we must hurry. Freya is waiting supper for us.”

When Erik took her arm to escort her to the evening meal, Dana looked back over her shoulder at Brendan. He was watching her with a puzzled stare she didn’t quite know how to interpret. All she did know was that finding him battered had been strangely disturbing, but she could not imagine why.

“What did he say to you?” she whispered to Erik.

“Nothing that I’ll repeat.”

Understanding precisely how difficult Brendan could be, Dana let the matter drop. They hurried into the house and were delighted to find Freya feeling well enough to suggest they entertain.

Once everyone had been served freshly caught codfish that had been steamed to perfection, Freya began to make plans for the coming week. “Is there time to invite Grena’s family to go out with you for one last day of hunting with the falcons, Erik? Her twins enjoyed it so much last year. Since their father’s death, they’ve had few opportunities to go on a hunt. Berit and Dana can watch the children so you aren’t distracted. Why don’t you take Brendan too? I’m certain it would be helpful to have another man along.”

“I’ll be there,” Soren pointed out sullenly. “I can take care of my cousins better than a thrall can.”

“Of course you can, my darling,” Freya instantly agreed. “But I want you to enjoy the day without having to worry about being responsible for the others.”

Mollified by his mother’s considerate comment, Soren devoted his energies to consuming his supper while Erik and Dana exchanged a meaningful glance. Each thought the day of hunting would be fun, but neither was pleased by the prospect of taking Brendan along or of allowing Soren to ride again so soon.

“Let’s plan the hunt for the day after tomorrow,” Erik suggested, attempting to share Freya’s enthusiasm. “With Light of Dawn and Spring Blossom ready to foal, I’d rather Brendan remained here.”

“I can’t recall the last time we had a foal born during the day,” Freya remarked thoughtfully. “Let’s wait until the morning of the hunt and then decide what to do about him.”

“As you wish,” Erik agreed reluctantly. When Thora suggested she and Dana ride to Grena’s the next morning to deliver the invitation, he was sorry he had not volunteered first, but then quickly thought better of the idea. The less he saw of the delectable Berit, the easier it would be to pretend she did not exist. Plans for the hunt and talk of the delicious meal that would follow took up the remainder of the evening, and it wasn’t until he returned to his house that Erik again thought of the slave who would be there.

Brendan had expected no more than bread and water, and when he found his supper tray contained a fine meal he was too delighted to question why. He ate slowly, savoring each bite of flaky white fish, tangy morsel of cheese, and crusty slice of bread. There was a bowl of berries too, and cream to pour over them. He had not eaten such a delicious meal in a long while and had just finished when Erik entered.

Now certain it had been unwise to quarter the slave in his house, Erik was sorry he had not arranged to move him elsewhere. Because he had neglected to do that, he promptly made his feelings plain. “You’ll sleep under my roof only as long as you can keep your thoughts to yourself. Is that understood?”

The Celt nodded. He knew it had been a grave mistake on his part to expect the people here to behave as others he had known when their actions had been so unpredictable. He simply did not know enough about them yet to better his position. As he contemplated the fact that he was living in Erik’s house, wearing his clothes, and undoubtedly had been given a meal as fine as the one served in the main house, he knew he should be satisfied with his situation for the moment, but inwardly he rebelled. He would be satisfied with nothing less than total freedom.

“I meant only to help us both,” he offered apologetically, but he was simply confused rather than being truly sorry for insulting him.

Erik found the comment very amusing. “Offering to stir up trouble between Dana and me is scarcely what I’d call help.” As he removed the hay-filled mattress that was stored beneath one of the benches during the day, he explained why. “Have you no brothers or sisters that you love? Would you be pleased if someone tried to pit one of you against the other?”

Brendan rose to help Erik arrange his mattress, and when he was tossed blankets and a feather-filled quilt to make his own bed on the bench on the opposite side of the room, he thought again that he should be grateful for what he had, but he wasn’t. “Not all families are like yours” was all he cared to contribute to their conversation.

Erik waited a moment, but when Brendan offered no information about himself, he doubted he ever would. “I’m going out for a walk. I’ll see you in the morning. I hope tomorrow will be better than today.”

“So do I,” Brendan murmured to himself as Erik left. He had worked hard all day, and was relieved not to be ordered to do more. He soon went to sleep, but he had no dreams of lovely redheads that night.

Dana shared a sleeping chamber with Thora, but while the little girl fell asleep as rapidly as she always did, Dana’s thoughts were far too troubling to allow her to rest as easily. Her insomnia began when she allowed her thoughts to wander to the summer’s end. Her father and Svien would return home, but that pleasant prospect was swiftly overtaken by the realization Jarald would be coming home then too.

While she had always found her mother’s advice valuable, Dana was certain Freya’s estimate of Jarald’s good points was too generous. As she saw it, the man had nothing but wealth to recommend him, and while she knew many young women would consider that enough, she did not. Oh, he was pleasant to look at, she had to give him that. His hair was very blond and his eyes an attractive sea green. He was tall, and while he was heavyset, there was nothing soft or effeminate about him. On the contrary, his manner was most definitely masculine, but she just didn’t like the man. In her opinion he was loud, coarse, and rude, hardly the qualities she, or any intelligent woman, would admire in a husband.

Dana tossed and turned, tangling her long legs in her quilt as she wished Jarald and her father weren’t such close friends. The likely possibility their friendship might come to an abrupt end when she refused to become Jarald’s wife frightened her. If Jarald didn’t accept her decision graciously, the two men might even become the bitterest of enemies. That would lead to terrible strife between their families. If that happened, it would be entirely Jarald’s fault, not hers, although Dana knew she would be called fickle and given all the blame. She hoped Jarald would not want her for his wife if she did not love him, no matter how enthusiastic he had been about the match, but the more she thought about his reaction, the more apprehensive she became.

She realized that she should have told him how she felt before he left, she mused regretfully, so that he would have had the entire summer to get over her rejection. She didn’t think she could possibly stall him until spring, as her mother had suggested. There was no point in even making that effort, as it would only prolong the ordeal of his visits and not save him a moment’s suffering when her opinion of him would never change. It would be far better to tell Jarald the truth when next she saw him so he could expend his energies courting some other young woman who found him more personable than she did.

That painful matter finally settled in her mind, if not in fact, Dana rolled over on her stomach and propped her chin on her crossed arms. She was looking forward to going hunting with Erik, and even if her mother made them take Brendan along, she doubted he would ruin the day. They could leave him with the horses, or assign him some other chore so he would not only make himself useful but also stay out of their way. That was undoubtedly the best way to handle the man.

With two notable exceptions, she thought Brendan had gotten along better that day than on his first with them, so with any luck his behavior would continue to improve. He had too aggressive a manner and that was disconcerting. Perhaps all the men from Erin were so forward with women, but she could not believe he didn’t know a slave had to treat his mistress with more respect.

The sudden memory of the feel of his lips caressing her palm made Dana’s whole hand tingle. That surprising sensation puzzled her because at the time she had wanted only to punish him for taking such a shocking liberty. Now, in retrospect, the gesture did not seem so terribly unpleasant, merely inappropriate. Even if her plan to speak with him only about chores hadn’t been a complete success, she had lost her patience with him only once that day, and that was a marked improvement over their bitter confrontations yesterday.

She laughed softly to herself. If she practiced speaking to Brendan without provoking heated arguments, perhaps by the time Jarald came home she would be able to refuse his proposal so diplomatically he would not feel more than a tiny twinge of disappointment. When a wide yawn interrupted Dana’s reverie, she realized her problems were nearly solved. Gradually she drifted off to sleep.

On the morning of the hunt, Erik was relieved to find Light of Dawn and Spring Blossom grazing placidly, with no sign that birth was imminent in either mare, but he was disappointed to have thought of no other excuse to exclude Brendan. The slave might prove helpful, but there was also the more likely chance he would cause a disturbance that would ruin everyone’s fun. More importantly, Erik didn’t want the handsome Celt around Berit, despite her reassurance that she cared nothing for the man.

Freya studied Erik’s uncharacteristic frown and totally misread its cause. She had come outside when Grena’s family had arrived, and slipped her arm around her stepson’s waist as she whispered so they would not be overheard. “I’m so sorry, Erik. I should have spoken with you privately before I suggested inviting your cousins to come today. I didn’t realize this might not be as enjoyable for you as it will be for them.”

Erik hastened to reassure her that was not the case. “We all discussed it together, Freya, and if I’d not wanted to take everyone hunting I’d have said so then. I’m just trying to decide how far away I want to go today, that’s all.” He smiled then, bathing her in the warmth of a captivating grin that immediately convinced her of the truth of his words.

Unfortunately, Erik found himself at a disadvantage when the gracious woman relieved him of the burden of the last-minute preparations for the outing so he could attend to the falcons. When he had the magnificent birds of prey ready to depart, Brendan had already been told to saddle a horse to accompany him, and Erik had to resign himself to the fact he could not leave him behind.

Grena never ran out of conversation and was looking forward to spending a restful day with her sister while their children were occupied elsewhere. When Brendan moved by her to carry the last of the baskets containing food for a midday meal, his appearance had improved so greatly since he had left her home that she didn’t recognize him.

“Who is that man? I don’t recall seeing him here before today,” she asked with an appreciative glance which raked over the handsome slave as she took in the width of his broad shoulders and the lean perfection of his superb build.

“That’s Brendan, Mother,” Berit explained happily. “He’s just cut his hair and put on new clothes, is all. I’ll admit he looks far better, but not so different I’d not have known him.”

Chagrined by so silly a mistake, Grena blushed deeply, but she didn’t take her eyes off Brendan as he worked to secure the baskets to the back of his saddle. “Are you certain you’re taking along enough for the boys to eat? You know how often they complain of hunger.”

“They’ll be too busy to eat, Mother. Don’t worry about them. Besides, we want them to be hungry enough to enjoy supper tonight.” Berit kissed her mother and aunt farewell, then mounted her horse and took her place beside Dana, who was already seated astride her beribboned mare.

When Freya had told Brendan he would be needed that day to watch the children and assist Erik, he hadn’t believed his luck. He had replied he would be happy to watch the children all day long, but he hadn’t mentioned that he was grateful for the chance to see that Dana came to no harm either.

His eye was no longer swollen, and the bruise on his cheek had faded to the point it resembled a smudge of dirt, and Freya hadn’t noticed it. He had planned to lie had she asked him about it, though. Even if he hadn’t been able to interest Erik in a bargain, he knew he ought to go along with everyone else and protect Freya from worry. During their two conversations, her sincerity and sweetness had been so genuine he had found it impossible to dislike her. That troubled him more than his desire for Dana did. He could rationalize his interest in her beautiful daughter, but to admire a Danish woman for her kindness struck him as a foolish weakness he might soon come to regret.