The pretty blush filling the delicate blonde’s cheeks surprised him completely. He thought his request had been casually phrased and did not understand why she had reacted with such delight, as if he had paid her the most flattering of compliments. Why was she blushing so attractively when there was not the slightest cause for such a reaction?
“Well, go on and look, I’ll not have you standing around waiting for me to finish eating when there is so much work to be done.”
She moved toward the ornately carved chest without any real haste, for she was embarrassed that her happiness in seeing him that morning had not been returned in kind. She bent down, lifted the lid, and after regarding the layers of apparel for a moment commented, “You have very fine clothing, Mylan, the smoothest suedes I have ever felt. But I do not see any bowls here.”
Mylan pushed himself off his bed, and when his side gave him no pain he knelt down beside her to look for himself. “They would be along the side, not among the folds.” Thrusting his hand along the wood, he withdrew first one bowl and then another. “There, now you need not wait for me when you prepare meals.”
They were so close their shoulders were touching, and when she turned to take the two bowls from his hands they slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry.” She grabbed them up quickly for his accusing stare made her acutely uncomfortable, and she did not want to make him angry with her again. “I am not usually so clumsy.”
He turned away, as startled as she had been by the spark of excitement that had passed between them. Her fingertips had barely brushed his wrist and he could not even catch his breath. Disgusted with himself for having so little control of his emotions where she was concerned, he got to his feet and left the house, determined to remain outside until he could again convey the cool detachment he wanted to affect in her presence. He had brought her with him to punish her, to make her work keeping his house and cooking his meals, but that was to have been the extent of her duties. He had not realized how quickly he would again succumb to her charms, but she was the most attractive of women, a beauty of such grace and spirit he had been a fool to think he could treat her with the indifference he usually showed a slave.
He knelt by the stream, splashing the cold water upon his face until its icy chill had cleared his mind and cooled his blood sufficiently to think calmly. The problem was a simple one, and since he would not have Celiese for his wife, she would have to accept her place as his slave and consider providing him with the pleasure he craved as only one more of her duties. A small matter, he decided with a sly grin, and he returned to his house to see if she had prepared an edible porridge.
Celiese waited as he ate, her smile shy. “Well, what do you say? I thought it quite tasty myself.” He had finished one bowl of the steaming porridge and had then asked for another, so she was reasonably certain he liked it.
“I was too hungry to taste the first bowl, some honey might help, or fruit, if we had any.” Making a face, he shoved the half-eaten bowl aside. “I will forgive you since you have no experience as a cook, but if you cannot do better than this tomorrow morning I will just throw it out.” Without looking her way he got up from the table, reached for his bow and quiver of arrows, and headed out the door.
Astonished by his abrupt exit she ran after him, calling excitedly, “Wait, I can hunt even if I cannot cook! Please, let me come with you!”
Mylan hesitated only a moment. The porridge had actually been delicious, and he was sorry he had not thought of some way to finish his second helping before he had said it was no good. “It is a proficient cook I need, not a hunting companion. And how can you hunt with no weapons?”
“I could make my own if you would help me. Let me come with you today, and I will gather sturdy branches to fashion a bow and arrows of my own,” she offered eagerly. She had cleaned his house so thoroughly the previous day she would have little to do if he again left her alone until sunset.
“Your attire is unsuitable for walking through the forest.” Mylan reached out to touch the soft silk of her blue gown. “Since you’ll not wear the garment I gave you, you cannot afford to ruin this one.”
“If you’ll but wait a moment I will put on the other one.” The coarse wool would be uncomfortable, but she wanted to go with him too badly to worry over that discomfort.
“The morning is half gone already. I have no time to waste on a woman’s whims!” Turning to hide his smile Mylan stalked off with a long, confident stride, his limp barely noticeable as he moved down the path to the woods. He took his time that day, knowing the longer he left Celiese alone the more anxious she would be for his company when he returned and therefore all the more agreeable to his demands.
He could not understand her continual eagerness to please him, but he would be a fool not to make it work to his advantage. He would most certainly never allow her to hunt with him, but there were plenty of other chores to keep her busy. He had forgotten to tell her to water the vegetable garden, but that was so obvious a task she would undoubtedly think of it herself. If she did not, he would scold her sternly for being so negligent. That she had so few practical skills was annoying, but she was bright and would learn soon enough how to manage his farm so he could leave it in her care when he returned to the sea.
When he had shot a plump bird for their supper he sat down under a tree and stretched out to rest, for he did not want to misjudge his strength as he had yesterday. He was fortunate that the wound had not been far worse. Another day or two of rest were what he still needed. As he sat lazily in the shade he soon began to wonder how Andrick had fared with Olgrethe. He had wished him luck and had meant it, but thought his brother had little chance of making the willful girl happy.
She was no prettier than Celiese, in fact, he had found Raktor’s daughter something of a disappointment after having known her maid. It was not so much that her features were any less attractive, nor her figure any less amply endowed, but her manner was not nearly so pleasant nor her smile half so sweet.
Celiese had done him a great favor, he thought ruefully, for she had saved him from marrying a young woman who would surely have nagged him incessantly, always wanting to be kept amused, and he had no desire to be any young woman’s pet. All women were troublesome, he thought suddenly, bothersome creatures he would sooner live without. He would not make the mistake of ever trusting another female, but he intended to enjoy what they did have to offer nonetheless. His frown deepened as he thought of his three brothers. As the eldest he was expected to be the leader, but he had set a sorry example in the last two years.
Perhaps with Celiese there to help him he would be healthy enough by the next spring to return to the sea with his former vigor. There was the matter of his shipâ??it needed to be completely refurbished. And his crew had been scattered when he had had no work for them, but with a year’s time to prepare he should be able to set sail again. His mind turned to the wondrous possibilities for adventure, and he dozed away the afternoon before returning home to see what Celiese had accomplished in his absence.
She had stood watching until Mylan had disappeared into the forest before she had returned to his house. She could not see any task she had left undone, so she had no idea why he had been so terribly disappointed with her housekeeping when he had given her no clue as to what had caused his displeasure. The house was small and his possessions many, but she had done her best to see they were neatly displayed and had no intention of doing any of her work over again when he had not explained why he had been so angry.
As for herself, she had almost nothing, and, wondering if he might not have some fabrics she could fashion into another gown, she opened his chest and began to sort through its contents, stacking the layers of his clothing in neat piles by her side. She had meant the compliment when she had paid it; all his clothes were very fine, and her fingertips brushed the soft suede fondly as she laid it aside. Rather than the few yards of silk she had hoped to find when she reached the bottom of the chest, she discovered only a piece of heavy wool she recognized as being a small portion of a torn sail. Leaning down to touch it, she found it had been wrapped around some heavy object, and she lifted the bundle out to see what it contained.
The unexpected sight of the gleaming sword startled her badly and she drew back, ashamed now that she had searched through Mylan’s belongings, regardless of her purpose. The blade of the double-edged sword was decorated with the finest gold filigree, an intricate swirling design pounded into the steel to create not only a most deadly weapon but a magnificently beautiful one as well. It was a sword any Viking would prize, and she knew he must have a suit of mail as well as a helmet and shield.
Armor was expensive, but he was a wealthy man from a fine family and could afford all the necessary implements to make war. That he chose to reside on so distant a farm in such a humble abode was unusual, even perplexing, but she guessed he had wanted to be left alone while he recuperated from the injuries he had suffered in his encounter with the bear.
Undoubtedly his armor and other weapons would be at his father’s home, but for some reason he ha
d wanted to keep this sword close at hand, and with a shudder of contempt she replaced it in its wrapping and laid it at the bottom of the chest. She put away his clothing as neatly as she had found it, and, satisfied he would not suspect she had looked through the chest, she slammed the lid shut and turned away, as disgusted with herself as she was with him.
There was a wicked-looking spear in the corner where he kept his bow and arrows, as well as a double-sided battleaxe that appeared to have been used only to chop wood. But it was the image of the sword she could not clear from her mind. Repelled by that gruesome discovery, she went quickly to care for the horses. As she returned to the house she noticed the vegetables in the small garden were in need of water and brought several bucketsful from the stream to quench their thirst.
She then turned the wooden pail upside down to use as a stool and sat down to contemplate the vast expanse of grain that had begun to sprout upon the surrounding fields. Mylan must have sown the seed just prior to their wedding, and the bittersweet memory of that day filled her heart with despair. She sat gazing out over the countryside, her posture betraying her dismal mood.
*
Mylan paused as he rounded the corner of the house. Celiese was sitting so still he approached her stealthily, uncertain why she should be observing his small garden with such intense interest, but she was concentrating so deeply that she did not notice his presence until he cleared his throat and spoke gruffly.