Free The Pledge by Helen Mittermeyer

Nay, he was a man of many parts. She sought distraction
     from herblack thoughts and found none. Woe to the woman who carries a secret to her marriage bed!
    “Have all these festivities tired you, Morrigan?”
    His whisper went through her like a sweet knife. “No… no, I can carry on, milord.”
    “ ’Tis not necessary. I shall—”
    A sudden flurry at the gates was a welcome sound until she saw Rhys coming at her again, this time riding a horse! Not a small
     steed, but a destrier. “Sweet mother of God.”
    “Shhh. Don’t fret.”
    “Good Lord! He shouldn’t have had such a large horse, should he? Is that not a destrier used for war?” She moved around Hugh,
     fully intent on intercepting the cantering beast and Rhys, who hung on to the mane, his short legs flapping on the animal’s
     back, his mouth wide open.
    “Ma-man! Lo-ok a-at me-e!”
    Before she could do more than take one step, Hugh moved in front of her. “Wait. Nothing must startle the animal. Trust me.”
     Then he strode toward the horse. “Everyone remain still.” He saw the harried MacKays behind the steed, but spared them barely
     a glance.
    “Hugh! There were four of us. He eluded us all. How the hell he mounted Orion, I don’t know.”
    “I have him, Toric. No one move.” Hugh put his hands up. The destrier, independent and able to factor predicaments because
     of his highly intelligent ways, glared at Hugh, his ears back.
    Morrigan held her breath, moving step by step toward Rhys.
    “No, milady, you mustn’t interfere with the laird. Orion is one of his. The steed knows the master. ’Twill be fine. You’ll
     see.” Laird Gordon tried to pull her back. She wouldn’t budge. “So, you are as headstrong as your spouse. I see chaos in your
     future, but then again, ’twas what I had.” His dry laugh pulled no answering one from her. He held her at his side.
    Hugh put his hand on the destrier’s snout. “You would defy me, old friend, when I’ve given so many gracious ladies to your
     keeping. Consider your mare, Eufeme. Was she not sweet and gracious?” Hugh’s soothing tone droned on, even as he took hold
     of the stallion by the nostrils with one hand, and reached for Rhys with the other.
    “No,” Rhys said, edging backward, making the destrier quiver. “We’re friends. He wants me here. He said so.”
    Morrigan’s hands twisted together. She fought for breath.
    “Is that right?” Hugh said, seeming to ponder what Rhys said. “You’ve made a choice, then?”
    “I have.”
    “Fine. For now, you must come down so that Orion can be fed and pastured. Would you deny your friend his meal? He’s a great
     warrior and has earned good care.”
    Rhys’s face screwed into thought. Then he nodded and moved toward Hugh’s hand that scooped him from the back of the huge horse.
    The concerted sighs of relief drowned out Morrigan’s shaky thanks to God.
    Hugh kept the boy on his shoulder and handed the reins to Toric.
    “The boy reminds me of you,” Laird Gordon said to Hugh, keeping hold of Morrigan as they moved toward her husband. “You were
     always pigheaded.”
    Morrigan didn’t see the humor. She had eyes for Rhys, catching him in her arms and hugging him.
    “Maman! Don’t. I have to help Toric with the horse…” Before he could finish what he was saying a giant yawn caught his lips
     and parted them.
    Morrigan looked at Hugh as she set Rhys on his feet. “I thank you, milord.”
    His smile came and went. “You’re welcome.” He looked at Rhys. “As for you, for disobeying the Mac-Kays who were put in charge
     of you, you will clean out the stables for one week with Jaxe.”
    Morrigan opened her mouth.
    Rhys was ahead of her. “I will do that.”
    She looked down at him, shaken that he would so easily accept his penance. His eyes were shining!
    “And you’ll mount nothing unless Jaxe, Eamon, or Toric is with you.”
    Rhys’s head bobbed up and down, his eyes fixed on Hugh, seeming unaware of the