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Merrik looked at her breast, at the streaks of purple and yellow, at the blunt outlines of Erik’s fingers where he’d kneaded her flesh deep and hard.
He reached out his hand and lightly cupped her breast in his palm. She felt the warmth of him, the power of him, and she knew she wanted him more than she ever had, even now, when there was more pain and misery between them than ever before. She wanted to press against his hand. She wanted to lean into his strength, to feel him holding her, to know that he believed her and would stand beside her. She wanted to kiss him, to taste the heat of him, to experience again the incredible feelings he’d given her once, so long ago now, it seemed. But she stood frozen before him, unmoving, and he felt only the stiffness of her, the wariness. Now he knew that she watched his hand, watched as his fingers lightly moved over the bruises, then she looked up and he couldn’t hide the fury in his eyes from her.
He’d come upon her without warning, and she’d tried to cover herself, but she hadn’t been in time.
He said, “Your gown is torn beyond repair. I will ask Sarla to give you another.”
He slowly lifted his fingers from her breast then and turned away from her. He said, not looking at her, “Does your breast hurt?”
She shook her head, realized he wasn’t looking at her, and said, “No, not very much.”
“A woman’s flesh is very tender there. You are lying. I’m sorry my brother did that to you. But he is dead and that is more punishment than he deserved.”
“I didn’t kill him, Merrik. Neither did Cleve nor did Sarla. They were just trying to protect me.”
He laughed then, a low, deep laugh, and he was still laughing when he turned again to face her. The laughter suddenly died. “Cover yourself,” he said, and then she saw it—the hunger in him, the need. Was it just for her, or would any woman do?
She did, quickly, jerking the material up against her shoulder. She raised her chin, looking at him straightly. “Why? You do not wish Taby to know that you were staring at his sister? Would it upset him, this lust of yours, or do you merely look at me because there is no other woman who you believe belongs to you?”
“No, this time I had no thought of Taby,” he said. He walked to the box bed and sat down. He leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. He appeared to be studying the woven wool mat that covered the ground. “Do you really belong to me, Laren?”
“You seem to accept me thus since I am Taby’s sister.”
“When I came into you, when I broke through your virginity and touched your womb, I had no thought of you as Taby’s sister.”
“You speak bluntly, Merrik.”
“Aye, and you welcomed me until I hurt you. Your breasts are beautiful. I had forgotten.”
“Many women have beautiful breasts, no doubt even Letta.”
“I don’t care about her breasts, truth be told. I wish she and her family would leave Malverne.” He paused a moment, then smiled bitterly down at his clasped hands. “I am the master here now. I believe I will tell them to go. I dislike Letta’s possessiveness and her father’s interference. I dislike her conceit.” He rose. “It is odd. I didn’t want Malverne. I never considered that it would be mine. If Erik had a son, I would guard Malverne for him with my life until he was of an age to take it over. I cannot give Malverne to Kenna, though the boy is smart and brave. He is a bastard and none would stand for it. This is a damnable situation.”
“I didn’t kill Erik.”
He sighed. “I believe you. However, I cannot be certain about Cleve. He is protective of you. If he saw that Erik was going to rape you, don’t you believe he could have easily struck him down?”
“Yes, he could have, but he didn’t. Don’t you understand? If Cleve killed him, he would have run back down that same path. He would have seen me unconscious. He would have known that I would be blamed.”
Suddenly Merrik raised his head. He smiled at her. “For that same reason, then, Sarla couldn’t have done it either.”
She nodded.
“That leaves us with a mystery, then, and I dislike mysteries. I thought the mystery of you and Taby would tease me into madness—your damnable lack of trust in me even though I passed your test—aye, that tale of yours was a test for me, to see if you could trust me—but this is beyond that, far beyond, for Erik, despite his faults, despite his growing conceit and arrogance, despite it all, he was still my brother. I must avenge him. You understand that, don’t you, Laren?”
“Oh aye, Merrik, I understand vengeance.”
He rose then and strode to her. He looked down at her, not touching her, just looking at her. “You have made a rare confusion of my life.” As if he couldn’t help himself, he gently lifted her chin in his palm, and stared at her. “Stay here. I will send Sarla to you with clothing.”
“What will you do?”
“I will speak to all my people. I will speak to them of loyalty and show them Cleve’s and Sarla’s innocence. They are already doubtful, believing that they confessed only to save you. That will leave you, Laren, in their minds. None other, just you. I will deal with it, for by all the gods, I have no choice.”
He left her standing there, her face pale, wondering what he would do, if he would be forced to kill her, a miserable slave who murdered his brother, despite Taby.
Sarla’s gown hung loose on Laren, for she had no belt to fasten it to her waist. The overtunic hung nearly to her knees and even the two brooches couldn’t make it drape properly.
When she walked into the outer chamber, only the w
