Branded By Etain by Jianne Carlo Read Free Book Online Page A

this morn, me lassie?”
    Étaín blurted, “It happened then? I wed Brand of Bärvik last eve?”
    Her nurse’s graying brows vaulted. “Aye. You remember naught?”
    “Nay. Aye. I recall the all of it.” And indeed she did, the images of their coupling tumbling a carnal waterfall in her mind. Embarrassed, she snatched a bed cushion and set the cool fabric to her burning cheeks. His scent infused the pillow. She breathed in his spicy maleness and hid a broad smile.
    “I have ordered a hot bath. ’Twill ease the pain from his breeching of your maidenhead. Was it bad?” Cedilla tucked a curl behind Étaín’s ear.
    She shook her head. “Nay. ’Twas but a sharp, momentary prick.”
    Prick, was that why men called their shaft a prick? Étaín grinned. She stretched her arms over her head, arched her back, and pointed her toes. A knock sounded on the door.
    “That will be the boys with the buckets and tub. Enter,” Cedilla called out.
    Étaín dragged the covers to her chin. She was only half-aware of the bustling activity in the room, too busy recollecting all the details of the night before.
    “Child, have you heard a word I’ve said?” Cedilla shook Étaín’s shoulder. “Make haste now. I must strip off the sheets and see to their hanging. You are to break your fast in your da’s chamber.”
    “Da’s chamber? Why?”
    Étaín frowned, slipped off the mattress, skipped to the wooden tub, and hopped into the hot water. Steam rose from the rolling surface in long curls. She hummed with sheer hedonistic glee when the sloshing scented liquid covered her bare shoulders. Dried peachy petals bobbed a merry dance around the tub. Étaín flicked an errant flower from her collarbone.
    “Methinks he wants to judge how you fare this morn. He fair paced the ramparts last night. Dunk.”
    Étaín complied with her nurse’s order, broke through the surface, and wiped her dripping face. “Did Da and Brand speak?”
    It gave her a secret thrill to speak his name aloud and in front of another.
    “Aye. From the crack of dawn until not long past. I fear your step-cousin’s trying to cook mischief ’tween the two of them.”
    “What did you hear?”
    Cedilla had her ears attuned to every bit of gossip running through the settlement. Étaín oft believed the older woman knew what was going to happen before it did.
    “Sean the Sad says Lord Irvin objected to your choosing Brand of Bärvik. He says Lord Irvin tried to bribe Father Peter to refuse to wed the two of you.”
    By the time Étaín finished bathing and dressing, Cedilla had filled her in on all the events she had missed the night before because she had been too enthralled with Brand to pay attention to anyone or anything but him.
    “Think you Irvin really intended to press Da for my hand? We are cousins. ’Tis against the church’s dictates.”
    Étaín sifted through a small basket of ribbons, chose one the color of burnt umber, and gave it to Cedilla to weave through her single braid. She picked a woven leather braid that matched her gown and slipped the worn hide over her right hand, touching the scar on the underside of her wrist thrice, as was her habit.
    “Step-cousins. The church would have allowed it. I trust not the man, and that one wants killing. Howbeit, Lord Irvin and his men boarded their ships and left on the morning tide. We are well rid of him and his scum.”
    Étaín heaved a huge sigh of relief. Though Irvin had always been kind and polite to her, ’twere times when his presence felt as if all the children in the village had piled themselves on her chest.
    Cedilla tied off Étaín’s braid and turned her attentions to the canopied bed. “There. Now, hie you to your father, and I will see to the sheets.”
    Gavin and Larkin awaited Étaín in the hallway.
    “Good morn,” she greeted them. Biting her lips, she worried about the wisdom of asking the whereabouts of Brand, but curiosity proved too strong. “Have you seen my