By Love Enslaved (7 page)

Brendan did not turn to reply, but kept right on walking. He certainly didn’t want the company of the spoiled brat he knew Soren had to be. The boy could walk home alone, for all he cared, and he would refuse to take the blame if he got lost on the way.

When Brendan didn’t wait for him, Soren didn’t know what to do. He was still shaking from the fright of his wild ride and ready to cry again at being made to walk home. He had expected Erik to be happy that he was safe rather than angry because he had ridden Jørn’s horse, since Jørn would never have to know about the incident.

Nothing ever went his way, Soren grumbled to himself as he started over the wall. If only he could have gone with his father, then he could have shown everyone he could do a man’s work. Why did he have to be left behind as though he were a child when he was nearly grown? Reciting his oft-repeated complaints about the way he was treated, Soren followed Brendan home, but he trailed at a distance so he didn’t have to speak to the man again.

Dana’s eyes smoldered with fury as she listened to Erik’s account of how Brendan had dared to ride Sky Dancer to overtake Soren. “I would send him back to Grena’s at first light, but I know my mother would never allow it, since she won’t go back on her word to her sister. We can’t let her hear about this, though. Oh, Erik, what are we going to do?” the distraught redhead asked with an exasperated sigh. “We can forbid Soren to ride for a good long while, but his crime is a small one compared to Brendan’s. Do you think he actually wants me to whip him? Is he so perverse he enjoys pain?”

“That’s something I’d not considered, but yes, I think if any man could relish pain, it would be he.” Erik was leaning against the gate, his eyes scanning the path for the first sign of Soren and Brendan’s return. “If he were one of the servants, I’d fire him and send him away this very afternoon. Since we can’t get rid of him so easily, we will either have to whip him or lock him up. Which do you want to do?”

Dana paced up and down by his side, her expression as dark as her thoughts. “Grena never should have asked this favor of us.”

“The problem is that she didn’t ask us. She asked Freya. Unfortunately, we are the ones who are faced with the disagreeable task of handling the man. I won’t make the mistake of going after him again with my fists when we are so even a match, but we must think of a suitable way to punish him because I’m afraid we are going to be forced to use it again and again.”

Since that was so likely a possibility, Dana suggested a novel way to discipline the man. “Frankly, I’d like to chain him naked in Grena’s yard and let her women have their fill of him, since he seemed to find their attentions so distasteful.”

“Dana,” Erik chided with a low chuckle. “That is fiendishly clever, but the man has to stay here, remember?”

While she was reluctant to abandon her idea, Dana knew he was right. “It’s plain from the scars on his back that a whipping doesn’t improve his attitude. As angry as I am with him, there’s too great a risk I might beat him to death anyway, so I suppose we’ll have to confine him in one of the storehouses.” She turned to look at the row of buildings nearby, wondering which to choose.

“We can’t keep him in the one with food, for that would be like putting a mouse in a sack of grain. It will have to be one of the others,” she mused aloud.

“Since Haakon has taken most of the furs for trading, why not use the one for storing furs?” Erik suggested.

“What are the chances he will set it on fire?”

“With himself locked inside? Not likely.”

Dana continued to pace, wondering if merely confining Brendan would be harsh enough treatment to inspire him to become cooperative. When no more attractive strategy had occurred to her by the time he and Soren arrived, she showed no reluctance to punish him despite her misgivings about the effectiveness of her plan.

When Soren began to complain of being mistreated, Dana quickly silenced him and sent him inside, promising to deal with him later in private. She then turned her full attention to Brendan. The haircut and shave had improved his appearance enormously, but she tried to ignore his good looks. After all, it was his behavior to which she objected. Still, the fact he was even more handsome than she had first imagined proved an unwelcome distraction.

“Do you have something to say for yourself? I can’t imagine that you will have an excuse for taking my father’s horse after Erik told you no one is allowed to ride him, but perhaps that is only because I am not eager to break every rule I hear.”

Brendan thought the color which anger imparted to Dana’s cheeks was wonderfully attractive, but he knew she wouldn’t enjoy hearing such a compliment from him. “Since I am the one who rode Sleipner here, I am responsible for him until he is returned to Grena’s stable. Because I knew I could not overtake him on any other mount, I had no choice but to take your father’s.”

“No choice?” Dana scoffed. “That’s utter nonsense. We have many swift mounts.”

“But none as swift as Sky Dancer. Erik told me so himself,” Brendan contradicted. “You should be thanking me for catching up to your brother before he was thrown instead of criticizing how I did it. Is Sky Dancer more important to your father than a son’s life?”

Erik knew that would depend on which son was endangered. He turned the full force of his anger on Brendan. “First you were concerned about Sleipner, and now about Soren? You are a liar who cares about nothing but yourself. A thrall who will not obey his master is worthless, and that’s exactly what I’ll tell Jørn when he returns home.”

Fearing a shouting match between Erik and Brendan would quickly produce blows, Dana stepped forward to take charge before Brendan could respond with the bitter retort she was certain was already on his lips. “You will come with me, Brendan. I think perhaps a few days of solitude will do you good. You obviously need time to reflect on your actions since coming here so that you can improve them.”

Brendan continued to return Erik’s hostile stare. He didn’t understand why Dana gave the orders rather than her brother when Erik was five years her senior. He wondered if the whole family behaved as strangely as these two did. Truly, they did seem to have been more worried about the white stallion than Soren, and he decided Haakon must be the worst of fathers to have produced such sorry children who cared so little for each other.

“You will come with me,” Dana repeated before turning away. As they walked to the building, she removed the key to the storehouse where furs were kept from her brooch. Once unlocked, the door swung open on well-oiled iron hinges to reveal the paneled interior. There were shelves from floor to ceiling, but there were no more than two dozen furs resting on them now. With the door closed, no light and little air entered the storehouse, but she was certain Brendan would not suffocate. Someone had left a bucket lying nearby, and she gave it a push with her foot to roll it inside.

“I’ll see that someone comes to escort you to the privy occasionally, but you may use that bucket if they are late.”

Only a narrow beam of the late afternoon sunlight lit the smallest of the farm’s storehouses, and while Brendan had no desire to enter, he would not let Dana see his hesitance. He marched through the door and turned to face her, his expression still one of cocky defiance.

“How long am I to stay here?” he asked.

“That depends on how long it takes you to mend your ways. Take off your breeches,” Dana ordered brusquely.

Brendan was certain he couldn’t possibly have understood her. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. Take off your breeches. They don’t fit, and I’m going to throw them away. I told you you had to cut your hair, shave, and wear clothes that fit if you were to have supper. You’re still in the ill-fitting breeches you were wearing this morning, so do not expect anything to eat tonight. Now hand them to me. I have three brothers, so I can assure you I will not faint at the sight of an unclothed male.”

Brendan clamped his teeth together so hard that his jaws began to ache, but he didn’t reach for the button at his waistband. While he had never mixed with any of his master’s other slaves or servants, he had been lover to more than one mistress, and while he hated what Dana was, he couldn’t deny that he found her haunting beauty impossible to ignore.

Thinking an attraction as powerful as the one she exerted over him must be returned, he spoke in a seductive, honey-smooth whisper. “What is it you really want, Dana? If it’s me, then we can strike a bargain. If you’ll take me for your lover, I’ll follow each of your orders gladly.”

At that astonishing offer, Dana’s mouth dropped open, but in the next second she recovered her senses. “How dare you!” she screamed, the fury of her temper now impossible to control. She stepped inside the storehouse, grabbed ahold of his waistband, and just as she had anticipated, the worn fabric of Brendan’s breeches ripped as easily as his kirtle had. She had expected him to be wearing linen drawers, and when she discovered he wasn’t, it was too late to regret the haste of her actions because his breeches were already ruined.

That the flame-haired young woman would take it upon herself to strip him naked jolted Brendan as badly as his outrageous proposition had shocked her. When she had stepped close, he had been enveloped in the enticing fragrance of her perfume. It was a heady scent that flooded his mind with exotic images of the Orient. As one of her flying curls grazed his bare chest like a silken whip, the exquisite sensation provided a further assault on his beleaguered senses. The touch of her fingers as they brushed across the newly exposed skin of his hips sent a flame of desire curling through his loins that brought the immediate physical reaction he thought she should have anticipated, but he made no move to cover himself or turn away.

“Isn’t your effect on me proof enough that I’d make you a good lover?” he taunted invitingly.

Despite her boast, Dana had not realized there was such a vast difference between a man who was merely nude and one who was fully aroused. That Brendan seemed so proud of himself revolted her thoroughly, but she refused to show it. Her gaze raked over him in a fiery wave that would have blistered the skin of a lesser man before she turned away and went to the door. His torn breeches in her hand, she called to him as she stepped through it.

“You have proved absolutely nothing, and I’ll make no bargains with you. If you can’t mend your behavior, then you’ll remain in here until the summer’s end.” She slammed the door shut before Brendan could offer another of his obnoxious remarks. Her heart was beating wildly and her hands shook so badly that she fumbled with the lock. Her cheeks burned with a bright blush of embarrassment. She didn’t see how she could ever release Brendan from his makeshift prison, no matter how good he promised to be.

Chapter Four

Dana flung what was left of Brendan’s breeches on the trash heap as she ran toward the house, but before she reached the door she knew that was the last place she ought to go. How could she turn away the questions which were certain to come her way if she bolted through the door like a wounded bird frantically trying to outrun a hungry cat? She was far too distraught to provide a coherent excuse for her agitated state, and she would never be able to make polite conversation.

Realizing that sorry fact, she made an abrupt turn, then slowed her pace as she walked to the oak tree at the edge of the meadow where she had first heard Brendan’s name. Had it only been the previous afternoon?

“Impossible,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her temper still simmering. Brendan had caused far more than one day’s worth of trouble. She leaned back against the old tree, taking comfort in the strength which had allowed it to weather more than fifty winters. She closed her eyes for a moment, but almost instantly Brendan’s mocking grin came to mind and she shook her head, trying to banish his image. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to find Erik standing in front of her.

“Oh, Erik,” she began apologetically. “I’m afraid I’ve made things even worse for us.”

Dana did indeed look worried, but Erik doubted that what she feared was even possible. “Nonsense,” he exclaimed with a broad grin. “You made the right choice in locking up Brendan. If a few days of nothing but his own company doesn’t turn him into the most obedient of thralls, then we’ll just lock him up again, and again if need be.”

Dana licked her lips anxiously, silently debating the wisdom of sharing the shocking terms of the ludicrous bargain Brendan had offered, but she swiftly decided against it since that revelation would only enrage Erik as much as it had her. “You’ll have to take him some clothes,” she stated instead.

Erik reached out to grab a low-hanging limb, draping his arms over it as a comfortable support while they talked. “Yes, I gave him some. He didn’t have time to put them on before he went off after Soren.”

“It was the horse he was after,” Dana reminded him. “I think I should take the stallion back to Grena’s in the morning. With any other horse, I’d just wait for Grena to fetch him when she comes to see Mother, but I don’t want to give Brendan any other opportunity to use the animal as an excuse to make trouble.”

“He can scarcely cause any trouble where he is now,” Erik pointed out with a teasing grin. As far as he was concerned, their problems with Brendan were over for the time being, and he wanted to simply forget the man.

Dana looked away quickly, not about to admit the slave had managed to do just that with his despicable bargain. “All right, I’ll wait a day or two. Grena is sure to pay us another call soon.”