Chapter Eighteen

No bride could wish herself back to being a maid again.

Braylin felt guilty for even thinking the question, but she couldn't seem to stop her mind from churning. Of course, she was practical enough to understand that she and Dugan knew very little about one another, so conflicts were going to occur.

Yet she could not seem to stop thinking about it.

"Yer face is as dark as thunder clouds."

Braylin was startled. She jumped and spun around to see a woman carrying a sack into the storage room. She placed the sack on a shelf before she dusted her hands together.

"I am Leana," the woman said. "A woman with such a fine-looking husband shouldn't have such heavy thoughts."

Braylin felt her lips twitch. Just the mention of Dugan made her smile, it seemed. Leana gave a little laugh.

"Oh, so it seems ye ken what a prize ye have there in yer husband," Leana continued. "Glad I am to know it; else I would have to take this moment to share my unsolicited opinion."

"You are bold," Braylin remarked.

Leana looked straight at her. "Is that a chastisement, Mistress?"

Braylin wrinkled her nose. "Please do not call me that."

Leana drew in a breath and let it out in a little sigh. "It seems I will be giving ye my opinion after all. Ye are failing to appreciate the way that husband of yers is trying to make certain ye know how much he adores ye."

"Adores me?" Braylin asked in a stunned whisper.

Leana nodded. "He surely does. Shavon is a fool not to see how he looks at ye. She'll not be head of house for long."

The weight that had been threatening to crush her all day suddenly lifted. "How can you be sure?" Braylin asked.

Leana fixed Braylin with a very pointed stare. She appeared to be debating how to answer.

"I know men," Leana stated bluntly. "And the ones who have no affection for their wives, or respect, well that is the very sort of man that I have a great deal of experience with."

Leana's expression was hard and in her eyes was bitter understanding.

"How did you come by so much…experience?" Braylin knew she sounded na?ve, but the topic was so very important to her.

Leana locked gazes with her. Braylin could see the other girl debating whether or not to answer the question. But Braylin didn't shrink away, but stared straight at Leana.

"My father settled a rather large gambling debt with my maidenhead. After I was ruined, my sire discovered there was money to be made in installing me at a brothel where he and the whoremaster shared my earnings."

"How despicable!" Braylin exclaimed. "The commandment to honor one's parents was never intended to be used in such a way."

Leana stared at her for a long moment. There was a look of disbelief in the other woman's eyes which baffled Braylin.

"Who wouldn't be horrified by such a tale?" Braylin asked.

"Many are very horrified," Leana answered. "But they normally look at me as though I am some pestilence which must be driven away before I smear my grime on them. No one ever considers my feelings."

Braylin felt her cheeks heat. Her father and mother would have forbidden her to even look at Leana after knowing she was a woman for hire.

Well, didn't you want to have a different sort of life here?

Braylin lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and smiled at Leana. "Thank you for answering me."

"Ye are very interesting, mistress," Leana said. "Truly I am surprised by yer nature."

"Good," Braylin responded firmly.

A feeling was growing inside of her. Braylin wasn't sure just what it was, only that it felt amazing—almost as though she'd just discovered that she liked herself. Was it pride? Possibly. But she really wanted to think it was confidence.

Confidence was something she might use to build the life she wanted.

"Yer husband sees ye as his wife, not as English." Leana said, offering up her opinion as she'd promised. "His demand that ye sit and be served is his way of demonstrating to one and all that he will not have ye viewed any other way. Ye need to see the blessing there."

Braylin felt the truth of Leana's words sinking deeply into her. "Thank you," Braylin muttered.

Leana lifted one eyebrow in disbelief.

"Why would I not thank you?" Braylin asked, adding a sincere smile.

Leana looked straight at her. "Because I am a whore," she said frankly.

Braylin thought for a moment. "Didn't you arrive with me?"

Leana's expression became guarded. "I did."

Black Moss Tower had a large number of men compared to the number of women serving in the towers.

"Is someone here forcing you to continue to perform such a trade?" Braylin asked. "For if they are, I will have them put out immediately."

Surprise flashed in Leana's eyes. "Well, in order to do such a thing, ye would have to be the mistress of Black Moss Tower, now wouldn't ye?"

Braylin smiled and nodded firmly. "No one will be forced to do such a thing, as long as I am here."

Something flickered in Leana's eyes—hunger perhaps?

Braylin straightened her shoulders. "It is close to supper time. We should not be late."

*

Leana remained in the storage room for a time after Braylin left.

She felt odd, as if something was fluttering inside of her. A feeling that was so precious, so fragile, she feared to even breathe lest it be crushed.

Hope.

It seemed a lifetime ago that she had felt it. Back when she was a girl who had looked at the future as something bright and full of possibilities. Oh yes, she'd seen the challenges ahead of her.

But she had always believed there'd be a chance for her to find happiness.

It hadn't taken long for that hope to be snuffed out. Whores faced a lifetime of knowing their greatest worth was behind them.

Leana moved to the doorway of the storage room, watching as Braylin walked up to the main towers. The flicker of hope she suddenly felt seemed to be growing stronger, maybe even strong enough to burn away some of the bitterness which had built up inside of her.

Leana started across the yard to see if Braylin would take her place at the head table.

Today, she would hope for a brighter future.

And it appeared that Braylin was intent on making good on her word. She watched Braylin lower herself in front of Dugan—though she didn't miss the fact that Braylin had her hands tightened into fists that were hidden in the folds of her skirt.

Dugan and Braylin were the center of attention and neither one of them faltered.

Leana smiled brightly—a smile of respect. True, freely given, and well-earned respect for Braylin.

Her mistress.

*

Everyone was at supper.

The main hall of Black Moss Tower was bursting at the seams. If there was even one retainer missing, Braylin would have been surprised.

And they were all watching her.

Let them.

Braylin felt as though her spine was stiffening, keeping her upright and proud. She fixed a pleasant expression on her face before she walked straight to the high table where Dugan was watching her from behind one of his unreadable expressions.

She didn't mind though. There was great satisfaction in knowing she was holding her own tonight. Braylin stopped in front of Dugan and lowered herself into a curtsey.

"Welcome, Wife," Dugan greeted her.

Braylin rose, walking around the table to take her seat. Ryesen was there along with Erin. Once Braylin sat down, the supper service began.

She had never sat during the first service of a meal.

In her father's house, she had carried a pitcher of water while Modesty had held a basin and Temperance had come last with a cloth. As the daughters of the house, they had helped their father and mother wash their hands before their eldest brother brought the bread to their sire for the blessing.

Everyone had a place in the service of the meal. Tonight, even those sitting at the head table had a place as well in the ceremony.

She would be the mistress of Black Moss Tower. Her duty was to serve everyone by ensuring order and fairness. If even one of the lowest scullery maids went without stockings, it was Braylin's failing. The mistress ensured everyone's needs were met while they served.

She would ensure there was enough in the storage rooms to feed them all until the next harvest. It was a heavy responsibility and one which required obedience from the staff to see it accomplished. For if there was no order, the inhabitants might gorge themselves upon the supplies and exhaust them before they might be able to replenish them.

Yes, a heavy burden but one she would not fail to carry.

Because Braylin was very certain she would rather die than see the hope in Leana's eyes crushed.

*

Brody sniffed before pouring himself another serving of whiskey. The hall was quiet as men bedded down. In the kitchens, the four boys who helped out with the heavier chores were curled into the bunks they were afforded.

The female staff were all in the storerooms, so Brody sat quietly at the long table used for producing the meals during the day. Now there were long hollowed out sections of logs sitting on that table top that had the next day's bread dough rising in them.

Brody looked up to see Dugan entering the kitchen.

"Ye have a new wife," Brody remarked. "What are ye doing here, lad?"

Dugan sat down and reached for the bottle. "I'm thinking."

The sound of the whiskey filling a glass was the only thing heard for a moment. Brody watched as Dugan lifted the glass to his lips.

"She did well at supper," Brody continued.

"Aye," Dugan agreed.

"Just as ye bid her," Brody added.

Dugan took another sip of whiskey. This one was longer. When he lowered the glass, there was a tight set to his jaw. It was clear he was wrestling with some demon. Brody held his tongue, waiting for Dugan to speak.

It took another couple of sips of whiskey before Dugan admitted, "Me wife does nae want to run this house like Lady Alice."

Whatever Brody might have expected Dugan to say, that wasn't it. "I will drink to that, lad!"

Dugan didn't raise his glass. His fingers were turning white because of how hard he was gripping it. "I ordered her to the table, to be served as the mistress of Black Moss Tower. Just as Lady Alice does each night."

Brody contemplated Dugan for a time. "The pair of ye have to get to know each other and that is a fact."

Dugan reached for the bottle, but Brody plucked it from the tabletop. "This is not the answer, lad."

Dugan's eyes narrowed.

"Go on with ye now," Brody instructed. "Nothing will be worked out unless ye are in the same room together."

Frustration glittered in Dugan's eyes, but he grunted and gave Brody a nod. His friend grinned in victory.

"Do nae think ye are so very clever and fooling me," Dugan muttered with a grin. "Ye are drinking to avoid a woman as well. Perhaps ye should take yer own advice, Brody. Young Erin has certainly been trying her best to make it clear she wants to be courted by ye. Leave the lass fluttering her eyelashes at ye here and she'll be at the church doors before the end of the winter on the arm of another man."

*

Brody stared at Dugan in surprise. Dugan sent his man a knowing look before he tightened his resolve and headed above stairs to where Braylin was.

Would she welcome him?

He hoped so.

The stairs were narrow and dark. Dugan made it up to the top floor and opened the door.

He knew she was there.

It was strange the way he was so very aware of her. There was only the faintest sound of her breathing, but the chamber had her scent.

It stirred him.

And drew him toward her. She'd left one side of the bed curtains open for him. When he tugged the length of fabric free, she drew in a stiff breath.

"Oh…I fell asleep," Braylin muttered.

Dugan joined her in the bed, closing the curtain. "Rest lass. Morning will come soon enough."

Braylin rubbed her eyes. "I was waiting for you, Dugan."

"Ye do nae have to worry if I am pleased or not, lass." Dugan settled on his side facing her.

Braylin sat up. "You have been kind toward me. I would have you content with this marriage you were trapped into." Then she let out a little sigh, as if she'd faced something she knew she needed to and yet struggled to find the courage to do it.

"In truth, I need to thank my lady stepmother," Dugan confessed. "For she saved me from wrestling with the idea of returning to the borderland to make ye mine."

"My father would not have received you," Braylin said.

Dugan raised an eyebrow, his expression becoming mocking. He reached out to smooth a piece of hair which had fallen in front of her face. "But I would have returned to try and tempt ye to run away with me. I am yer Laird of Misrule, lass."

He heard her draw in a little breath. The sound sent a ripple of desire through him. "It's a fact that I enjoy making ye gasp, Braylin. There is a wildness inside ye that I hope ye do not curb completely, even if there are times I must ask ye to rein it in."

"There are advantages to being the mistress of the house," Braylin said, surprising him. "Wrongs that I might set right, yet only if I shoulder the duty of the position. Managing the household will take strict attention to details. I will do my best to not shame you."

Dugan cupped her jaw. "We shall shoulder the load together, lass."

He leaned in to kiss her. With the bed curtains closed, sinking into her embrace was the only thing Dugan was interested in. Later he'd remember to ask her what wrongs needed righting.

For now, he could succumb to his need for her.