K risten watched Royce while he slept. It was a luxury to lie there and do so, for she should have risen already. Eda usually woke her much earlier than this. The older woman would already be working below. And Kristen was not so naive as to think that just because she had shared the lord's bed, she would not have to work anymore.
She sighed, hating to leave him, but she wanted to fetch her clothes from the bathing room before more than just the servants were about in the hall. She slipped off the bed and quickly put on the coarse gray robe. She picked up the green gown from the floor and held it to her cheek for a moment. Then she sighed again and laid it carefully over Royce's coffer.
She knew he would not let her wear her own gowns. They had made love and likely would again, but it didn't mean the same thing to him that it did to her. To him she was still just a slave, and slaves were not adorned in finery.
"Kristen?"
She turned with her hand on the door to see she had woken him somehow. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, hair tousled, as naked as he had been last night, and looking sleepy. In fact he yawned.
Kristen couldn't help the tender smile that came to her lips. "Aye, milord?"
"You would have left without waking me?"
"I did not think you would want to rise this early," she replied.
"Come here."
She hesitated, but only for a moment. If he wanted to make love again, she could find no objection. She could not think of a more pleasant way to start the day.
When she stood before him, he reached for her hands and held them lightly in his. It was not desire she read in his eyes as he looked up at her.
"Where were you going?"
"Below to work."
"Then you have forgotten something."
"Nay, I—"
She stopped, her eyes widening, for he could mean only one thing. And he saw that she comprehended now.
"Put them on, Kristen."
She tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened, holding fast to her. She shook her head in disbelief.
"You will still make me wear that chain after . . . How can you be so unfeeling?"
"I know you hate it and I am sorry for that," he replied softly. "If there were another way to ensure you could not escape, then I would use it instead, but there is not. Too many Wessex slaves have escaped, running north to the Danes to join their army. I know that you would do the same, to try to reach your home."
She was not hearing the words of explanation. "The men would, aye, but I would not go without them."
"With your freedom, you could help them to theirs."
"If I told you I would not, that I would not leave your hall?"
"You cannot expect me to believe you."
"Why not?" she demanded angrily. "You would believe me that I would not kill you, but you will not believe that I will not escape?"
"Aye, you have it right!" His voice rose in impatience. "I can stop any attempt you make against me, but I will not take the chance of losing you!"
"You do not take this precaution with your other slaves!" she snapped.
"They are born slaves, descendants of the Britons that we conquered centuries ago. Wyndhurst is their home. But you have been captured, losing the freedom you once knew. You have no reason to want to stay here."
Didn't she? God's teeth, what a fool he was not to see that she did not want to leave him. But he was more of a fool if he thought she would shrug and accept his shackles now, and blithely accept him too.
A coldness entered her eyes, a chill that he had never seen before. "Very well, milord. You can let go of me. I will wear your chain."
He released her, but he frowned as he watched her walk stiffly to the table and pick up the shackles, then bend over to snap them on. "You can forgo the other chain, Kristen, if you will promise not to attack my cousin again."
Was she supposed to be grateful for that? Curse him, he had no idea what his callousness was doing to her.
She stood up to her full height, her voice calm but tinged with bitterness as she said, "I would have promised not to escape, but this I will not promise."
"It matters not to you that he is dear to me?"
"My brother was dear to me."
"Then you will wear the other chain as well until Alden's wounds are healed and his strength fully recovered. If you were not so strong yourself, 'twould be unnecessary."
"I do not regret my own strength. It serves me well when needed," she said cryptically. Then, with stiff pride, she added, "If that is all, milord?"
"Aye, go!" he snapped, her coldness rubbing him raw.
She nodded curtly and departed, leaving Royce with his temper rapidly rising. What in God's name did she expect him to do? Trust her? Surely she could see how unreasonable that would be! He had not only himself to think of, but those for whom he was responsible. She could too easily aid her brother's men to freedom. But how could she stop the slaughter that would follow? She could not.
Having so many Viking captives was the problem. With their size, they could be as effective as a small army. He should have killed them all when he had wanted to. Then there would be no problem now. Nay, for he would have killed Kristen too.
The thought that she could have died by his order, without his even knowing she was a woman, cooled his temper. Her resentment would not last. She was intelligent enough to see that until he could trust her, precaution was mandatory.
Logic held no place in Kristen's mind today. Emotion overruled fairness. She was feeling hurt, betrayed even, and those feelings continued to fester throughout the long day. She said not a word to anyone. She lived in her thoughts, and these grew steadily more acerbated and fraught with resentment. With no outlet for this upheaval of emotions, she was simmering on a dangerous level by the time Eda escorted her upstairs that night.
Eda passed her chamber once again, going on to Royce's. But Kristen went no farther than her own door, and this she slammed shut behind her. Eda opened it within seconds.
"What means this? You saw me go on."
"So?" Kristen said tersely, lying down on her pallet.
"He has bid me bring you to him again, wench."
"So?"
Eda sighed. "Do not be difficult, Kristen. His will cannot be denied."
"So you think. So he thinks, too. You will both learn differently." Kristen turned her back on the old woman. "You need not remove my shackles, Eda. Lock my door and go away."
Kristen did not see Eda shaking her head as she closed the door, nor did she hear it being locked. She drew her knees up to her chest and reached down to grip the chain at her feet, pulling at it so hard the skin scraped on her palm. She let go with a violent sound and turned onto her belly, pounding on her pallet in a feeble effort to rid herself of some of her frustration. It didn't work. She succeeded only in ripping the thin material in several places so that straw spilled out.
She was quiet and still lying on her belly with her head turned away from the door when Royce opened it a few moments later. He moved across the floor until his feet nearly touched the pallet by her hip.
He had not seen this chamber since the servants had readied it for her. Everything had been removed from it except the thin, narrow pallet on which she slept. It was a dismal atmosphere for her to return to each night. Not even a candle had been spared for her.
"Why did you not come to me, Kristen?"
"I am tired."
"And still angry?" She didn't answer that. Royce bent down beside her, touching her shoulder. "Sit up so I can remove your shackles."
She turned over to look at him, but she didn't sit up. "If you will have them taken away, remove them. Otherwise leave them on."
"Do not be stubborn, wench. Take what is offered."
"And be grateful?" she said frostily. "Nay. If you will treat me like an animal, then be consistent."
He ignored her choice of comparisons, reminding her, "You accepted this arrangement before."
"That was before."
"I see. You expected things to change, simply because you shared my bed." He shook his head at her. "Is that right?" She looked away, but he caught her chin, forcing her eyes back to his. "Is that right, Kristen?"
"Aye!" Her cry was thick with bitterness, but hurt also. "I would not treat you so cruelly after what we shared. I do not see how you can me."
"I know you understand why it has to be this way, Kristen; you just do not like it," he said impatiently. "You must know I like it no better."
"Do I?" she retorted. "You are lord here. What is done to me is done by your order, no other's."
He lost patience with her, standing up, his expression stern as he fixed her with his dark eyes. "Very well, I will tell you the alternatives to that chain. You can be locked in a room instead—mine, if you will—-but you will not leave it at all. I can spare you little time in the day, so you would be alone mostly, except at night. Would you prefer that?"
"You might as well put me in a cell!"
"We have none here. I offer you my own chamber, rather than this one. I give you the choice."
"There is no choice, milord," she retorted. "You offer me an even worse constriction. You said alternatives. Give me one I can accept."
"There is one other thing I can do that would enable you to have the freedom of Wyndhurst. I can kill your friends."
"What!"
She sat up, staring at him in disbelief, but he went on undaunted: "You can be trusted only if they are no longer here, the threat removed that my people will be slaughtered if they escape. By yourself, you would not get far if you still tried to escape. I would find you."
"You are jesting!" she said half hopefully, half incredulously.
"Nay."
"You know I would not take my freedom at such a price!" she hissed furiously. "Why do you even mention such an alternative? Could you really kill defenseless men?"
"Those men are my enemies, Kristen. They would kill me without a moment's pause, given half a chance. I have never liked having them here, and would just as soon rid myself of them. 'Twas Alden who convinced me they could be useful."
"Then rid yourself of me, too, Saxon!" she seethed. "I am one of them!"
"Aye, you are my enemy, too, wench," he replied softly. "But you I like having around. Now, give me your shackles to remove for the night, or make another choice."
She glared at him, but she stuck her feet out before he decided to take the choice out of her hands. She was still glaring at him when he stood up again, wrapping the chain about his neck to hold one iron band in each hand.
"I want to make love to you, Kristen." His voice turned husky. "I suppose you will deny me because you are angry, but I will ask you anyway. Will you come to my bed?"
"Nay," she muttered stonily, ignoring the responsive chord his tone and words stirred deep within her.
"I could insist."
"Then you will find out what 'tis like to have me fight you, Saxon."
She heard him sigh before he said rather gruffly, "I will hope you get over your anger quickly, wench."
Royce left then, and this time Kristen heard the door being locked.