Free Tempt Me With Kisses by Margaret Moore

and raised his voice so that it rang out like the bell of a cathedral calling sinners to prayer. “This woman is to be my wife. You will all respect her and treat her accordingly, because she is my wife.”
    Fiona wanted to howl with frustration. While a look or a brief word to the priest would have been welcome, she did not want this imperious command to the entire household. Fitting in here and earning their respect was going to be difficult enough, but it was for her to do. By doing this, he had only increased their wariness of her.
    But what could she say to him? The deed could not be undone.
    She might not be in a position to chastise her husband-to-be, she decided, but she must try to find a way to repair the damage he had unwittingly inflicted.
    “Now, Fiona, I will introduce you to the others here.”
    Fiona the Fair steeled herself and went forth into the lion’s den of Llanstephan.
    As Caradoc led his bride toward the people waiting at the tables, he surreptitiously studied her. She was stoically staring straight ahead as if she were made of marble.
    It wasn’t hard for him to guess why.
    God save him, he hated his sister sometimes. She had no thought beyond what she considered right and proper and befitting a Welsh nobleman. She had no concern for finances or necessities. She had been too coddled and spoiled for too long, doted on because of her beauty and spirit.
    Fiona had spirit of a different sort, for there was humor and generosity in it, too. Cordelia would not have found his lack of recognition amusing; she would have found it offensive in the extreme. While Cordelia could probably face any man in defiance, he doubted she could plead her case so fluently and so well as Fiona had, putting her request in reasonable terms that were difficult to disagree with. She never remained calm in the face of another’s anger, but lashed out.
    He had had little joy in his life these past few years in no small part because Cordelia couldn’t accept that he stood in the place of their father. It was his right and his duty to command everyone here, including her. Worse, she would always compare him to Connor of the merry smile and winning charm, a contest he was always bound to lose.
    Putting his sister’s displeasure from his mind as best he could, he again glanced at his future wife. She carried herself with the pride and dignity befitting a noblewoman, and better than some he had seen. If he had had any fears about how she would act in noble company, they were dispelled. Yet while he appreciated this dignified lady, he preferred the confident, spirited woman of the solar and bedchamber.
    His bedchamber, where soon they would join as man and wife. Again his burning desire rose up and threatened his self-control. He could barely prevent himself from tugging her into his arms and kissing her right then, regardless of where they were or who would see. More, he wanted to sweep her into his arms, dash up the steps to his chamber, kick open the door, lay her on his bed and—
    Keeping any hint of the visions playing about his mind from his face and his voice, he introduced Fiona to Eifion, who tonight looked like a man who had lost his last hope. Fortunately, Fiona seemed to find nothing wrong with his demeanor as she nodded regally and gave him a small smile.
    As Caradoc escorted her toward Jon-Bron, Emlyn-Bron, Bran-Bron and the other soldiers, a silent recitation of his oath of fealty further subdued his vivid imaginings.
    He needed no such thing to keep his mind focused when he introduced Fiona to the servants, for they were barely civil.
    He hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but he saw Ganore’s hand in this, and anger filled him, replacing everything else.
    But he didn’t show that, either. Instead, he silently reassured himself that Ganore must come to accept Fiona one day and treat her as his wife deserved.
    Or, considering how she usually treated him, better.
    After that, they went toward Dafydd. He had left his