but there will be hell to pay if you don't heed his request." The cook gave her another foreboding stare and then turned busily to her carrots, which were just coming to a simmer.
"Who will miss the task left undone?" Annie whined. "The only one who will be the worse for it is the Lady Brienne herself. And as I see it, a less influential creature does not exist if she has been abandoned by Lord Oliver and taken up living quarters in the stable."
Getting no argument from the cook, who was too busy with meal preparations to listen to her any longer, Annie watched her for a few seconds more and then sullenly left the great room. Once in her own room, she shed her clothes and slid her body beneath the wool coverlet. She fell asleep instantly. Her thoughts were not on Brienne Morrow at all.
CHAPTER SIX
Early the next morning, as the mist still clung to the flat yellow fields, Brienne was rudely awakened by a loud banging on her door. When her eyes opened, she saw that Avenel had entered her room and was standing near the doorway watching her.
Tiredly, she pulled herself up to a more dignified sitting position. She wanted to reprimand him for his uncivil entrance. But then she noticed the stretched-out form of Orillion lying so close to her that her long, dark red tresses spilled over his sparkling white fur. Soon the dog's large tail began to thump as he watched her, sending clouds of gray dust into the air from the dirty feather mattress.
"Whatever is the meaning of this?" She looked at Avenel, her eyes still glassy and full of sleep. She could see that he was angry, but for what reason she could not be sure. She hadn't ventured or strayed from the block all night.
He didn't offer a word of explanation for his strange behavior. He merely stood there looking furious. He noticed every detail of her appearance, from her bed-mussed glistening hair and her loosened stays to the soot-colored smudge left on her cheek where it had rested on the mattress.
"Has anyone been here to see you?" he asked abruptly, his eyes flashing cold and white.
"I've had no visitors." She started to stand, pulling the sides of her violet wool dress as close together as she could, since fastening it would be impossible with her stays loosened. "Except, I might add, for your mange-ridden cur. And I do believe that you've been here too frequently for my taste." She turned away from him and tried futilely to relace herself. Bailing at that, she said crossly, "Haven't you the decency to leave me alone while I am in this state of dishabille?"
" 'Tis not often a man chances to see such sights." She heard him laugh, and she turned a cold eye on him.
"As I said last night, you are a beast and have absolutely no manners." She faced him, but feeling like a coward, she took two steps backward; she recovered the fallen shoulder of her dress that exposed the creamy skin of her shoulders and much too much of her full, curving breasts.
At this last comment, he laughed all the harder, saying, "I thought our kiss in the gallery was quite polite. But do you desire further proof of my manners?"
"No, for you would only prove your lack of them," she quipped hastily, hoping he would go and leave her in peace.
"Perhaps." He smiled and moved closer to her. "But then, an English maiden cannot expect county behavior from a colonial."
"A colonial? You? You're as English as I!" She spoke up from amazement.
" Tis true, I am a Brit. Perhaps even more than you," he said thoughtfully. "But I can truthfully say I am an American also, for I was born and raised in the beautiful colony of
Maryland
."
"Then it's no wonder you're a barbarian! Being raised in that war-mongering, savage, hell-begotten place! I've heard that even the richest of them live like peasants of the previous century, so ungracious and backward are they." She raised her head slightly in a superior manner; her heart was gladdened somewhat to know that she, despite all her misfortunes, at least had had the
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