So Speaks the Heart by Johanna Lindsey

crying, and Wolff licked awayher tears. Drawing a deep sigh, she began to finish her task. Soon, Wolff’s food roasting along with the hare, she sat back and looked at her pet mournfully.
    â€œWhat am I going to do, Wolff?” she asked, as if she expected an answer. “He has made me his servant, and there is no one but me to tell him he has no right to do this.
    â€œDruoda did this to me!” she said vehemently, her eyes bright with anger.
    When Rowland returned, the hare was cooked and Wolff had already devoured his food. They ate silently, Brigitte keeping her eyes on the ground.
    â€œI would speak with you, girl, and hope to put your mind at ease,” Rowland said gruffly. “You need not fear me as long as you do as I say.”
    â€œAnd if I do not?” she asked after a pause.
    â€œI will treat you no differently from any other serf,” he said flatly.
    â€œHow many servants do you have?” she ventured.
    â€œI have never had a personal servant other than my squire, who died recently. There are many working in my home, but they are bound to my father. You are the first bound solely to me.”
    â€œYou are taking me to your home?”
    â€œYes.”
    While Brigitte considered this, he went on.
    â€œYou will tend my clothes, serve my food, and clean my chamber. You will answer only to me. Is that not less work than you are accustomed to?”
    â€œMuch less,” she admitted.
    He stood up and looked at her. “I expect obedience. As long as you do not anger me, you will fare well. Will you accept your lot and provoke me no more?”
    Brigitte hesitated, then spoke quickly, before shelost courage. “I will not lie to you. I will serve you as long as I must. But if there comes an opportunity for me to leave you, I will.”
    She expected his temper to flare again, but he only frowned. “No, you will not escape me,” he said in a foreign tongue.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI said you had best learn to understand Norse, for there are many at Montville who speak nothing else.”
    â€œYou said all of that with those few words?” she asked skeptically.
    But Rowland did not answer. “Come, we waste time. The dog may come with us. He will make a fine gift for my father.”
    Brigitte started to protest, but thought better of it. Rowland would find out when the time came that Wolff would not be parted from her.

Chapter Thirteen
    T hey did not reach Orleans before nightfall and had to make camp again once the sun set. Brigitte spent the long hours on her uncomfortable perch behind Rowland trying to convince herself that her condition could be endured for a while. After all, she was away from Berry, and from Druoda.
    A husband was what she needed, for, once she was safely married, Druoda would have no claim to Louroux and would not profit from her death. But to wed, she needed Arnulf’s permission—or that of his liege lord. The King of France was Arnulf’s liege, and that was the answer. She could go to court and be married before Druoda knew of it. She need only find someone to take her to the Ile-de-France and Lothair’s court. Then she would be free, and Druoda would be forced to leave Louroux.
    By the time they camped that night, Brigitte was so satisfied with her reasoning that she looked on her situation as a blessing. And the third day passed quickly, for Rowland began teaching Brigitte the language of his ancestors. It was not easy to grasp, but she learned several words and impressed Rowland.
    The days began pleasantly, for Rowland soon found that Wolff was indeed a good hunter. They awoke in the morning to find two plump hares and a wild goose waiting for them.
    Rowland was amazed and quite pleased to have the dog do his hunting for him. This put Rowland in so good a mood that he made friends with Wolff, and, to Brigitte’s surprise, Wolff liked him. Rowland was not so brusque with Brigitte either. The three of them