Free MacAuliffe Vikings Trilogy 3 - Lord of the wolves by Heather Graham Page A

the most affluent of tenants. The servants flocked to see him, and their best efforts went into the meal that welcomed him home. While he was greeted, he entertained them with stories about Paris, about the pilgrimage he had begun from there, about his visits with the Burgundian king.
    The hour at last grew late. The servants had left them, and the count sat in one of the huge oak chairs before the fire, studying his daughter while she poked at the fire. Her cheeks were still pink with pleasure at his return, Ragwald noted.
    “Gerald has called often in your absence,” Ragwald said, referring to the count of the neighboring land that jettied out into the sea.
    “Has he? To see to the welfare of this place? Why, he must not know the mettle of my men, to think that Philippe and Gaston would not have had the fortress secure!” He smiled.
    Ragwald was not so quick to smile. “I don"t trust him,” he muttered.
    “Well, what do you think he is after?” the count demanded.
    Ragwald shrugged, then felt his eyes stray to Melisande. “I don"t know.
    Perhaps your daughter.”
    Melisande, still poking at the fire, started, and spun around to look at him, her delicate nose wrinkling. A wise young judge of character, milady! he thought, but did not say so out loud.
    The count himself was frowning. “Gerald is older than I am!”
    “Such things have never stopped a marriage before. And perhaps he does not want her for himself, but for his son, Geoffrey.”
    “I like Geoffrey even less,” the count murmured.
    There was a definite look of relief upon Melisande"s face. She looked to Ragwald with a certain triumph in her violet eyes.

    He ignored her, addressing the count. “The girl is your only heir—”
    “And there have been numerous laws stating that there is no reason a daughter should not inherit when there is no legal male issue!” Count Manon said firmly.
    Ragwald inhaled and exhaled slowly. Noblemen could be so very difficult when they chose!
    “My point, milord!” Ragwald said at last. “This is a powerful fortress—no man who knows it has dared attack it. The foreigners who have invaded here have quickly fled for more promising places. Someone might well covet your daughter and her holdings, Count Manon!”
    The count watched Melisande. “She is only twelve years old—”
    “Nearly thirteen. And children are oft wed at birth!”
    “Betrothed,” Manon corrected.
    “What difference is it?” Ragwald replied impatiently. “Many girls are brides at her age.”
    “Well, she will not be,” the count said stubbornly. “Unless …” he began thoughtfully.
    Melisande quickly leapt in, coming behind her father"s chair and staring at Ragwald. “Did you know, my dear tutor,” she said sweetly, rubbing her father"s shoulders, “that King Charlemagne never had his daughters wed, but kept them home and at his side, determined he would share them with no others.” Ragwald waved a hand in the air. “Aye, lady! And wretched lives those girls then lived, for they did not wed, but took lovers, and their children were illegitimate!”
    She frowned at him. “Ragwald, I have been taught as well as any son—”
    “And you think that you will be as strong as a man?”
    “Nay, sir! I shall be as strong as any woman!” She smiled. “You have taught me about the strength of my gender, Ragwald. Think of Fredegund, the wife of King Chilperic! She schemed to have his first queen repudiated, and then to have her slain, and she managed all manner of political assassinations once she was in power!”
    “Oh, indeed! Think of her!” Ragwald snapped. “She ended her days being tortured and executed!”
    “You are missing my point. She caused as much mayhem as any male might!”
    Ragwald shook his head wearily. Count Manon was watching his daughter with amusement and affection. She was an incredibly bright young woman, ever thirsting for knowledge—and despite her youth, very aware that her father"s men assumed that she