Page 70 of Viking in Love

Hmmmm! “Do they work?”

Amicia shrugged. “Be damned if I know, but he says they be used by them harem harlots. Love slaves.” Motioning for Breanne to stay there, Amicia rushed off, then came back with a small palm-sized sack lined with parchment. Inside was the powder.

Well, if it was good enough for harem harlots, she supposed it would be good enough for her. In truth, that was what she was, in some ways. Caedmon’s love slave.

She could not wait to tell him.

No doubt he would have some ideas related to harems. She had a few ideas herself.

Whaaat?

What is happening to me?

Was I always wicked beneath the surface? Or is it only this man who turns me wanton?

Aaarrgh!

With those horrific ideas riddling her brain, Breanne decided to go build a bench…or a cow byre…or just pull her hair out, one strand at a time.

On the way, she was stalled in the great hall, where Caedmon was holding shire court. While he was hearing the complaint of a man who said his neighbor had stolen a cow, Caedmon glanced up and saw her. She could not break the eye contact for a long moment while they both thought of all that had gone on between them, and what was yet to come. That was what went through her frazzled mind. The air fair sizzled. Then he smiled, and Breanne’s bones almost melted. Truly, that was the unacceptable effect the lout was having on her.

Despite the small amount of sleep she had been getting, she seemed to be bright-eyed and energetic during the daytime as she attempted to take over the duties that Vana and Ingrith had organized so well. As for the outside and Drifa’s flowers and herbs, they would have to live or die without her help. She had no talent with growing things. But, no matter what she was doing, Caedmon appeared to be always on her mind.

With an exhale of disgust, she sank down to a bench at the back of the hall, and watched and listened as Caedmon wielded his own brand of justice. And she was impressed. He listened carefully, he weighed all sides, he displayed a rare sense of humor, and was firm when he finally made a decision. And the cases ran the gamut from petty theft to murder to failure to pay taxes.

As she sat, all his children, one by one—except for Hugh, who sat at Caedmon’s right—plopped down beside and across from her. They were like burrs in the wind, and she the shaggy sheep in their path. They followed her everywhere, except to Caedmon’s bedchamber, and then only because he locked them out.

She wasn’t surprised by Piers coming to her with outstretched hands, climbing up onto her lap, but she was surprised by Angus sitting on the bench next to her, up close. The surly little boy, who looked so different from the rest, was the butt of numerous pranks, many of them just harmless youthling teases, but he did not see them that way. And, rather than break out in tears, he stiffened his little back and hurled insults back at them.

Right off, they besieged her with their complaints and entreaties.

“Kendrick pinched my arse.”

“I did not! I was flicking off some pig snot.”

“Can I ride a horse? If Beth can have a pony, why do I get naught?”

“I am bigger than you, bratling. Ride a goat, if you must.”

“Go bugger yerself.”

“What is a bugger?”

“Why are your lips so red?”

“Father kisses her, that is why.”

“Oh, you! Kisses do not make lips red.”

“He looks at her like he could eat her up, like that tasty boar sauce.”

“Oslac, you are daft. How could he eat her up?”

“I could tell you—”

Beth slapped a hand over Oslac’s mouth. “Desist with that kind of talk.” Beth smiled slyly at Breanne then and said, “We must needs be polite to Lady Breanne if we want her to stay.”

“You want me to stay? How nice! But I cannot stay indefinitely. Just until my sisters return.”