Free Defiant Passion (Sons of Rhodri Medieval Romance Series) by Anna Markland

Rhodri did nothing to harm me. He was kind to me.” She felt her face flush. “But I’ve had an encounter in the hallway which has scared my wits out of me. There’s a Norman soldier here, one of your husband’s men. I remember now Myfanwy warned me about him. She said you didn’t trust him.”
    “It’s Giroux,” her lady hissed, clenching her fists. “I see clearly the malevolent hand behind the Earl’s riding accident, Myfanwy’s murder, the loss of my child, and my own near death. Now comes this last betrayal, our kidnapping and probable death at the hands of a Welsh rebel.”
    “Who is he? Why has he betrayed you?” Rhonwen asked.
    Giselle told Rhonwen the story of how the Countess’s father, Guillaume de Valtesse had blinded and mutilated Charles de Giroux. As a result he had endured years of wandering exile with his daughter when the Giroux family retaliated by seizing his castles.
    The Countess slumped onto the edge of her bed. “I didn’t know you knew the whole story, Giselle, but I’m relieved I didn’t have to tell it.”
    Rhonwen had listened open-mouthed. “But if you and your father were cast out of your home, was that not revenge enough for the Giroux family?”
    “Apparently not. When my father died several years ago I inherited Alensonne, Belisle and Domfort. I can’t believe his reckless actions long ago have resulted in this threat to my own life, and those of my children and servants. From the grave he reaches out to hurt me and mine.”
    Rhonwen grasped her mistress’s hand. “Forgive me, my lady,” she cried tearfully, “It’s not just that I saw the soldier. He knows I saw him. He came from the direction of Morwenna’s chamber.”
    A cold certainty seeped through her. “It was he murdered Myfanwy,” she whispered.
    The Countess nodded grimly and murmured, “We must think.”
    The three women huddled together on the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping children. “What did Rhodri want of you anyway?” Giselle whispered.
    Rhonwen blushed. “He’s drawn to me.”
    The maid sneered. “You mean he lusts after you.”
    “No. He was kind and gentle. He spoke of—love—of my becoming his wife.”
    It sounded ridiculous.
    “He gave me this necklace of amber beads.”
    It was incomprehensible.
    The Countess looked at Rhonwen and whispered, “And you feel the same for him, don’t you?”
    Fearing the censure of her lady for her foolish feelings, Rhonwen could barely murmur, “Yes.”
    The Countess squeezed her hand. “Rhonwen, a woman never knows when love might come along and knock her off her feet.”
    Rhonwen couldn’t believe she had heard these words from the Countess of Ellesmere. She looked wide-eyed at Giselle, who for some reason was silently nodding her agreement. “We must hope Rhodri’s love for you will protect us from Giroux,” the maid whispered.
    ***
    Phillippe burst into Morwenna’s chamber. “They know it was I who betrayed them.”
    She looked up at him with a bored expression. “It’s not a good idea to come here during the day, Phillippe.”
    He strode towards her. “That’s not important now. The healer has seen me.”
    Morwenna rose immediately from her chair. “Does she know who you are?”
    He ran his hand back and forth over his shaved head. “Perhaps not by name, but I’m sure she recognized me as a Norman. It’s only a matter of time before she and her accursed mistress deduce who I am. The Earl believes I’m in Normandie, and must never find out who betrayed him. My life would be worth nothing.”
    “We’ll wait and watch for a good time to kill them, my lover,” she purred as she pressed her body to his and kissed him. “I suddenly like the idea of bedding you in the afternoon.”
    ***
    Thereafter, Phillippe made no effort to avoid being seen by the hostages. He appeared for meals in the neuadd and scowled at them, his hatred and lust for vengeance plain to see.
    Rhodri thought it curious but did not reprimand him. He did