Free Montbryce Next Generation 01 - Dark Irish Knight by Anna Markland Page A

deemed him sufficiently healed. It was imperative he join the excursion, but did not want to argue with Rhodri’s wife. The woman had brought him back from the brink of death and he would be eternally grateful to these hospitable Welsh people.
    He would not ask Rhodri for help in his quest. The Prince of Powwydd had committed his resources to the struggle against the Normans.
    He had often heard it said that one day the Anglo-Normans would turn their attention to Ireland. He shuddered at the prospect of his fellow countrymen fighting them for decades as Rhodri had done. Normans were not benign invaders. After their victory at Hastings, they had enforced their rule with terror and intimidation and now held the power in England.
    Was he doing the right thing in seeking an alliance with a Norman? Surely it was better to establish good relations now? He had to trust Rhodri’s judgement that Ram de Montbryce was a fair man.
    Rhonwen had brought him to the small chamber off the neuadd to remove the bindings. Seemingly pleased with his progress, she held open the door. “Let’s see how you do further afield.”
    Ronan was aware people had gathered in the neuadd to break their fast. He harbored an irrational hope that Rhoni would be there, and prayed he would not fall flat on his face.
     
    Rhoni sat beside Carys, eyeing the trencher of smoked ham, black bread and yellow cheese. She was too nervous to eat, and only sipped the ale. On the morrow they would begin the journey to Cadair Berwyn where she had been born. Her mother had described it to her often, but she hankered to experience the majesty of the mountains.
    To her dismay, Rhun and Rhydderch were to accompany the party. They too had been born in Cadair Berwyn.
    Dread and elation warred within her at the news Ronan might be allowed to travel to Cadair Berwyn if his leg was sufficiently healed. Why did he wish to make such a trip? The mountain fortress held no significance for him.
    He had softened his demeanour towards her over the course of the past sennight, treating her with courtly manners. He might prove to be a pleasant travelling companion.
    She dismissed the idea immediately. Simply being in his presence turned her into a blithering idiot.
    A hush fell over the gathering. Ronan had entered the Hall. In this foreign place, among people who were not his own, his bearing bespoke nobility. They did not see the eye patch, nor the slight limp, nor the borrowed raiment. They applauded his progress. He inclined his head in acknowledgment.
    Conall and Rhonwen walked beside him, smiling at his steady progress.
    Rhoni saw a giant, a warrior who had stood at the gates of Hell and spat in the Devil’s face. He was a man whose well-muscled body she itched to touch, whose full lips she wanted to savour. In her mind’s eye she raked her fingers through his long dark hair. She wanted to tear off the eye patch and lavish kisses on the hurt of his loss. She longed to love him. She did love him.
    It was a sobering truth. There had been many handsome Norman noblemen who had expressed an interest. None of them filled her with the yearning she felt now. Her parents would think she had lost her wits, or that it was a passing fancy.
    Conall piled food on a trencher for his master and Ronan strode towards where she and Carys sat, his increasing confidence in his newly mended leg evident. Carys elbowed her. At least the Welsh girl had stopped her incessant chatter about Baudoin for a few moments.
    Ronan came to stand before them, his arms outstretched. “I am mended!” he declared with a lopsided grin.
    Rhoni’s insides melted. There were no words.
    Carys giggled. “You are indeed, my lord Ronan.”
    He sat down heavily beside Rhoni, his thigh mere inches from hers. Surely he could hear the beating of her heart?
    He broke his bread. “I am grateful for the care I have received here. Thanks be to God we were delivered into your hands, ladies.”
    “And to the seal,” Rhoni