fatherâs servants. He remembered well that whenever he needed something done, the servants would be busy doing Heddaâs bidding.
This girl would serve him well. Because of this,he was reluctant to take her to his bed. He felt certain that it would be a mistake to change their relationship. Rowland turned away from her and sighed, cursing the girl for being so lovely.
Chapter Fourteen
T he storm had blown south without troubling them, and fair weather followed the barge all the next day. That day they came to the seat of the Count of Tournaine. Brigitte wished she could visit the monastery of St. Michel there, but their barge stopped only long enough to unload passengers and take on two new ones before they were on their way again.
The two newcomers were tall, rough looking Saxons. The Saxon dukes had routed the Eastern kingdom from the Franks, and they now ruled Germany under Otto, a fact that did not please the French. These two had dark, weathered complexions and long, unruly hair the color of dried autumn grass. They wore tunics of thick fur, making them bearlike and menacing. They were armed.
The Saxons kept to themselves, but when their eyes rested on Brigitte with unmistakable interest, she grew uneasy and moved closer to Rowland. He did not look down at her, even when her arm accidentally brushed his. For several days he had seemed to avoid her gaze, and she wondered why.
Late the next afternoon, their sixth day of traveling, they passed the junction where the Maine River joined the Loire, and it was here that Rowland hadthem put ashore. Brigitte was reluctant to again take her uncomfortable seat on the rear of his horse, but, when she asked if she might walk awhile, she was denied her request. Rowland was determined to cover as much distance as possible before nightfall.
Nightfall came quickly, and they stopped on the left bank of the Maine River, in a small crop of trees. With the river only a few yards away, Brigitte thought of bathing. As soon as Rowland left her and went off to hunt, telling her to prepare a fire, she raced through the area gathering kindling and left it in a pile. Then, yanking a clean tunic from her sack, she ran down to the waterâs edge, grateful that she possessed some clean clothes.
Directly across the river were deserted marshes, desolate looking in the blue light of dusk. Upriver was a black square shape floating toward Brigitte, and she froze, then quickly scrambled back up the low bank when she realized the shape was a barge. She hid behind a tree, cursing the delay. Wolff came and squatted beside her, and she absently rubbed his ears as she impatiently watched the slow-moving vessel. Finally she looked down at him and frowned.
âYou had best go find your own dinner, Wolff. The Norman accepts the meat you bring him, but I doubt he will return the favor and hunt for you.â The animal didnât move, so she pushed him gently. âGo on, I will be all right here as soon as that barge passes.â
She watched him trot away, then looked back at the river to see that the barge, which carried livestock, was only just then reaching her. It inched along at a maddeningly slow pace. Brigitte knew that she had to be finished and back at the camp before Rowland returned.
Finally the barge diminished in size, and Brigitte quickly stripped herself bare and ran into the water. She gasped at the iciness of it, but submerged herself anyway. Her teeth began to chatter, and she briskly rubbed herself all over while she kept a wary eye out for any more unwelcome vessels. The river was empty now, but it didnât much matter, for the sky had grown black and the moon had not yet risen. She doubted she would be seen even if a vessel passed right by her.
Brigitte finished as quickly as she could and gladly ran from the icy water. She began shaking all over and hastily donned her clean tunic without even drying, tying on the rope belt she had worn before. She was freezing
This girl would serve him well. Because of this,he was reluctant to take her to his bed. He felt certain that it would be a mistake to change their relationship. Rowland turned away from her and sighed, cursing the girl for being so lovely.
Chapter Fourteen
T he storm had blown south without troubling them, and fair weather followed the barge all the next day. That day they came to the seat of the Count of Tournaine. Brigitte wished she could visit the monastery of St. Michel there, but their barge stopped only long enough to unload passengers and take on two new ones before they were on their way again.
The two newcomers were tall, rough looking Saxons. The Saxon dukes had routed the Eastern kingdom from the Franks, and they now ruled Germany under Otto, a fact that did not please the French. These two had dark, weathered complexions and long, unruly hair the color of dried autumn grass. They wore tunics of thick fur, making them bearlike and menacing. They were armed.
The Saxons kept to themselves, but when their eyes rested on Brigitte with unmistakable interest, she grew uneasy and moved closer to Rowland. He did not look down at her, even when her arm accidentally brushed his. For several days he had seemed to avoid her gaze, and she wondered why.
Late the next afternoon, their sixth day of traveling, they passed the junction where the Maine River joined the Loire, and it was here that Rowland hadthem put ashore. Brigitte was reluctant to again take her uncomfortable seat on the rear of his horse, but, when she asked if she might walk awhile, she was denied her request. Rowland was determined to cover as much distance as possible before nightfall.
Nightfall came quickly, and they stopped on the left bank of the Maine River, in a small crop of trees. With the river only a few yards away, Brigitte thought of bathing. As soon as Rowland left her and went off to hunt, telling her to prepare a fire, she raced through the area gathering kindling and left it in a pile. Then, yanking a clean tunic from her sack, she ran down to the waterâs edge, grateful that she possessed some clean clothes.
Directly across the river were deserted marshes, desolate looking in the blue light of dusk. Upriver was a black square shape floating toward Brigitte, and she froze, then quickly scrambled back up the low bank when she realized the shape was a barge. She hid behind a tree, cursing the delay. Wolff came and squatted beside her, and she absently rubbed his ears as she impatiently watched the slow-moving vessel. Finally she looked down at him and frowned.
âYou had best go find your own dinner, Wolff. The Norman accepts the meat you bring him, but I doubt he will return the favor and hunt for you.â The animal didnât move, so she pushed him gently. âGo on, I will be all right here as soon as that barge passes.â
She watched him trot away, then looked back at the river to see that the barge, which carried livestock, was only just then reaching her. It inched along at a maddeningly slow pace. Brigitte knew that she had to be finished and back at the camp before Rowland returned.
Finally the barge diminished in size, and Brigitte quickly stripped herself bare and ran into the water. She gasped at the iciness of it, but submerged herself anyway. Her teeth began to chatter, and she briskly rubbed herself all over while she kept a wary eye out for any more unwelcome vessels. The river was empty now, but it didnât much matter, for the sky had grown black and the moon had not yet risen. She doubted she would be seen even if a vessel passed right by her.
Brigitte finished as quickly as she could and gladly ran from the icy water. She began shaking all over and hastily donned her clean tunic without even drying, tying on the rope belt she had worn before. She was freezing
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