Branded By Etain by Jianne Carlo Page A

a fist to her mouth. Brand would think her an ill-mannered simpleton who spoke her thoughts. “Pray forgive me, my lord, for uttering such a discourtesy. Irvin is my mother’s cousin, and I must respect him as such.”
    Brand gathered her twitching fingers between his warm hands. “I would have you not hide your unease from me. ’Tis a feeling you should always listen to. Many times my life and that of my family has been saved because of a niggling disquiet about a stranger. Do not worry, Étaín, I will not leave you alone with Irvin. He will not harm you. I protect what is mine, and you are mine now.”
    She wanted to eat his delicious declaration, to swallow the words whole and infuse them into her from inside out. This was what she had yearned for these past seven summers, to belong. Étaín knew her family loved her, that most of the people of Caul Cairlinne cared for her, but they only saw the sunny, cheerful princess, not the girl who feared any misstep of hers could cause another’s death.
    Blinking away the threatening tears, she hunted for a choice morsel of roasted venison, speared a charred piece, and offered it to Brand, “I thank you for those kind words, my lord. I will treasure them. Though ’tis difficult to believe either you or your brother having niggling feelings.”
    He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and their glances met. “What amuses you so, wife? The word niggling, or my saying it?”
    Étaín beamed. “Both, my lord.”
    Brand closed his lips around the chunk of pork and chewed, his gaze still fixed on her. He swallowed.
    She admired his neck and studied the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. How had the blatant differences between men and women escaped her for so long? How she longed to explore all of him, to learn what caresses placed where would cause him to gasp in pleasure.
    He stabbed a baby carrot and waved it under her nose. “Eat, wife. You but push the food around on your trencher.”
    Étaín bit the vegetable off the end of his knife.
    “Irvin was displeased when we wed. Had he hopes of marrying you?” Brand swiped a sidelong look down the high table to where Irvin sat in the middle of the members of the Council of Caul Cairlinne.
    “We are cousins. The church would never sanction our union. Nay. I cannot believe he would consider such a sinful act. His family is pious. His sister is an abbess.” ’Twere the phrases she repeated in her mind whenever Irvin trapped her alone.
    “What reason did Irvin give for returning?” He brought his pewter goblet to her lips. “Drink.”
    How did he expect her to both swallow and answer his question? She frowned at him, but sipped at the wine. She patted her mouth dry with the cloth attached to her gyrdel for such a purpose. “Irvin told Gavin a gale wages o’er the ocean to the north. ’Tis where his brother’s holding is located.”
    “He is a younger son?”
    “Aye, the last of five. His brother inherited the title of Earl when his father died two winters past.”
    “Are the ships his or the earl’s?”
    “His. Irvin served under King Edward when he fought for the throne. He gained the ships and warriors during his tenure with Edward. Gavin says the king is to reward him with his own title and lands.” Étaín accepted a portion of quail Brand offered.
    “My captain, Thorkell, informs me Irvin has over three scores of warriors under his command. How does he earn the coin to feed and clothe so many men?” Brand poured more wine into his goblet.
    She shrugged having never considered the notion. “I know not. Gavin may though.”
    “I will speak with Gavin later. Enough of Irvin. I must meet with your Da and the council after the meal. What do you do?”
    “I am to meet with Hilde to make a list of our stores. Hilde mentioned you and Da spent some time together?” Étaín had not had the time to speak with her father. She harbored a desperate hope the two men would become true allies and friends.
    “Aye. Your father