Branded By Etain by Jianne Carlo Page B

has a great many books. Do you read?”
    “I do, my lord. As do most of those who live in Caul Cairlinne. I learned from my mother, as did my sisters. After Each—after my mother died, Da suggested we teach the children of the settlement. Alana, the sister after me, had the brilliant notion of teaching both mothers and children.”
    ’Twas the one activity that had soothed her marred soul after Da rescued her from Eachan’s captivity. The children had saved her from a despair so deep she had committed a sin the church condemned. Unconscious of her actions, Étaín thumbed the slight scar on the underside of her wrist.
    Brand captured her hands and turned them over. He peered at the faint white line beneath which the green of her pulsing veins showed.
    Étaín tried to tug out of his hold, but he drew her hand to his mouth, and, his gaze directed at her, kissed the scar that so shamed her. Did he guess she had tried to end her life? ’Twas a dire sin, but at the time Étaín had despaired of ever pleasing Eachan and had decided ’twas a simple trade. One life—hers—for that of all the babes in Eachan’s keep.
    Brand cupped her chin and bent so close his breath tickled lips still wet from the wine she had drunk. ’Twas a delicious whisper of a caress, and the secret flesh hidden between her woman folds tingled. She squeezed her thighs together.
    “I know of the abduction, Étaín. I know the terrible way Eachan tortured you. Did he still walk this earth, today would be his last. I cannot avenge what was done to you, but I vow this—’twill ne’er happen while I draw breath.”
    “I did not want you to know. You have the same look in your eyes all had when Da brought me back. Poor Étaín to have suffered so. Terrible Étaín that she caused the deaths of seven babes. Seven wee—” Étaín jerked away from him and cast her glance down. She wrenched her hands and took a deep breath. She had vowed never to speak of it. Never to voice the overheard gossip.
    Father Peter had told her over and over that she had committed no sin, that she was not responsible for the deaths of innocent children. But Étaín knew better, and coward that she was, could not bring herself to confess her attempt to end her own life to anyone, especially the priest.
    The images of the sweet faces of those seven babes haunted her dreams.
    Not a night went by that she did not see their chubby faces. Every morn she awoke filled with mournful regret. For seven years it had been thus, mental self-flagellation at night and a deep despairing remorse in the morning when she first opened her eyes. Aye, thus it had been until this spring. Until she had first glimpsed Brand.
    From that first day, her nights had been filled with his features and not those of each babe Eachan had killed right in front of her, his men holding her cheeks and forcing her to watch. When she had squeezed her eyes shut, Eachan had threatened to kill another child, so she had seen each little boy and girl take their last breath.
    Brand shoved his chair away from the table.
    Étaín stared at his dust-crusted boots.
    “My liege, I beg you excuse me from the council meeting this day. I have a pressing matter to attend to. Come, Étaín.” He grasped her hand and pulled her to standing.
    So distraught was Étaín that ’twas only when he scooped her off her feet and into a tight embrace that she realized he had noticed her brimming eyes. She bit her tongue and tried to collect herself. “Pray my lord, forgive my outburst. I was overcome. ’Twill not happen again.”
    He kissed the corner of her mouth while sprinting up the staircase leading to the second floor. “You did naught to ask for my forgiveness, Étaín. What was done to you is beyond monstrous.”
    Étaín chewed the inside of her cheeks and willed away the threatening tears, her vision so blurred she only realized their direction when the sun’s rays glistened off the stones of the hearth in the center of their