Read Online Montbryce Next Generation 01 - Dark Irish Knight by Anna Markland - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anna Markland
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MacFintain, but they have been aided in their crimes by a Norman Earl.
“You have assured me Montbryce cannot be the guilty one. Perhaps allying with an honourable Norman would be to my advantage. Would he be open to such a proposal?”
Rhodri raked a hand through his hair. “I may have spoken too hastily before. Ram de Montbryce is an honourable man, but he is a Norman nonetheless. They have an innate sense of form and order. He will want to understand the benefit to him and his earldom. On top of the power he wields in the Welsh Marches, he and his family control vast estates in Sussex as well as half of Normandie.”
Ronan grimaced. “In other words why would he come to the aid of a dispossessed Irish nobleman?”
Rhonwen frowned. Rhodri was not sure he liked the way the conversation was going either.
There was another prolonged silence before Ronan spoke again. “When does Lady Rhoni intend to leave for Ellesmere?”
Rhonwen opened her mouth but Rhodri dissuaded her with a slight shake of his head. “I am not sure. We have not discussed it. She has expressed a desire to visit her birthplace in my mountain fortress at Cadair Berwyn before returning home.”
“How far is that?”
“Three hours, in good weather. If we are to make the journey, it should be soon.”
Ronan beckoned to Conall to fetch his crutches. The lad helped him rise. “Thank you for your insights, Lord Rhodri. I appreciate your counsel. I must think on my next course of action.”
He bowed to Rhonwen and was about to take his leave. Rhodri put a hand on his arm. “As I told you before, despite our enmity, some members of the Montbryce family are dear to me, and to Rhonwen. We would not want to see them hurt.”
Ronan nodded grimly and Conall opened the door.
Lady Rhoni de Montbryce stood on the threshold, her hand raised to knock.
Rhoni’s knees failed her. She grasped the doorframe with one hand. She did not attempt to speak, knowing no sound would emerge from her suddenly dry lips and constricted throat. Conall stood behind his master. Ronan seemed as surprised as she at their chance encounter. Suddenly he leaned forward on his crutches, reaching for the hand that clutched her waist. His heat poured into her body.
“My lady Rhoni,” Ronan rasped. “I apologise for the unseemly behaviour of my servant earlier.”
Rhoni’s eyes darted to the scowling Conall. She had to get hold of her emotions, had to remember who she was. “I see no sign of remorse on his face. A servant who acted thusly in my father’s household would be cast out immediately,” she replied, embarrassed to have to rely on his hand for support.
Ronan turned to Conall and spoke in his language. “And I expect high standards of behaviour from my servants. You will apologise.”
The boy’s expression turned sheepish. His face reddened as he bowed to Rhoni. “I beg your forgiveness, Lady de Montbryce.”
Ronan explained the boy’s apology. She suddenly became aware of his thumb brushing over her knuckles. Her breasts tingled as desire and anger mingled in her veins. Did he think to distract her from her ire with Conall? She pulled her hand away but he held firm, bending to brush a kiss on her knuckles. Moisture flooded at the crux of her thighs.
It mortified her that a servant watched. Was it obvious she was aroused? “My lord?” she stammered, flummoxed by this sudden courtly behaviour from Ronan.
He looked up, his one dark eye piercing her. “I thank you for your care last evening. My back feels better today. I am a new man.”
It was the first time she had seen him smile. It stunned her. He was beautiful. His deep voice made her fingertips tingle with the memory of salving his back.
He bowed and took his leave. She exhaled a long breath and entered the chamber to face the lord and lady of Powwydd.
Rhonwen took Rhoni’s hand. “Come and sit, child.”
Rhoni gazed distractedly at the back of her hand, her eyes full of unshed tears.
“You have assured me Montbryce cannot be the guilty one. Perhaps allying with an honourable Norman would be to my advantage. Would he be open to such a proposal?”
Rhodri raked a hand through his hair. “I may have spoken too hastily before. Ram de Montbryce is an honourable man, but he is a Norman nonetheless. They have an innate sense of form and order. He will want to understand the benefit to him and his earldom. On top of the power he wields in the Welsh Marches, he and his family control vast estates in Sussex as well as half of Normandie.”
Ronan grimaced. “In other words why would he come to the aid of a dispossessed Irish nobleman?”
Rhonwen frowned. Rhodri was not sure he liked the way the conversation was going either.
There was another prolonged silence before Ronan spoke again. “When does Lady Rhoni intend to leave for Ellesmere?”
Rhonwen opened her mouth but Rhodri dissuaded her with a slight shake of his head. “I am not sure. We have not discussed it. She has expressed a desire to visit her birthplace in my mountain fortress at Cadair Berwyn before returning home.”
“How far is that?”
“Three hours, in good weather. If we are to make the journey, it should be soon.”
Ronan beckoned to Conall to fetch his crutches. The lad helped him rise. “Thank you for your insights, Lord Rhodri. I appreciate your counsel. I must think on my next course of action.”
He bowed to Rhonwen and was about to take his leave. Rhodri put a hand on his arm. “As I told you before, despite our enmity, some members of the Montbryce family are dear to me, and to Rhonwen. We would not want to see them hurt.”
Ronan nodded grimly and Conall opened the door.
Lady Rhoni de Montbryce stood on the threshold, her hand raised to knock.
Rhoni’s knees failed her. She grasped the doorframe with one hand. She did not attempt to speak, knowing no sound would emerge from her suddenly dry lips and constricted throat. Conall stood behind his master. Ronan seemed as surprised as she at their chance encounter. Suddenly he leaned forward on his crutches, reaching for the hand that clutched her waist. His heat poured into her body.
“My lady Rhoni,” Ronan rasped. “I apologise for the unseemly behaviour of my servant earlier.”
Rhoni’s eyes darted to the scowling Conall. She had to get hold of her emotions, had to remember who she was. “I see no sign of remorse on his face. A servant who acted thusly in my father’s household would be cast out immediately,” she replied, embarrassed to have to rely on his hand for support.
Ronan turned to Conall and spoke in his language. “And I expect high standards of behaviour from my servants. You will apologise.”
The boy’s expression turned sheepish. His face reddened as he bowed to Rhoni. “I beg your forgiveness, Lady de Montbryce.”
Ronan explained the boy’s apology. She suddenly became aware of his thumb brushing over her knuckles. Her breasts tingled as desire and anger mingled in her veins. Did he think to distract her from her ire with Conall? She pulled her hand away but he held firm, bending to brush a kiss on her knuckles. Moisture flooded at the crux of her thighs.
It mortified her that a servant watched. Was it obvious she was aroused? “My lord?” she stammered, flummoxed by this sudden courtly behaviour from Ronan.
He looked up, his one dark eye piercing her. “I thank you for your care last evening. My back feels better today. I am a new man.”
It was the first time she had seen him smile. It stunned her. He was beautiful. His deep voice made her fingertips tingle with the memory of salving his back.
He bowed and took his leave. She exhaled a long breath and entered the chamber to face the lord and lady of Powwydd.
Rhonwen took Rhoni’s hand. “Come and sit, child.”
Rhoni gazed distractedly at the back of her hand, her eyes full of unshed tears.
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