Free Rexanne Becnel by The Knight of Rosecliffe Page A

FitzHugh may have tricked you, Rhys. But he didn’t hurt you.”
    “My father died because of his trickery! My father was slain by his brother—” He broke off, his jaw clenched in fury.
    Rhonwen could not contradict his words. She and Rhys had never discussed that subject before, though everyone knew what had happened. A six-year-old child, anxious to prove himself to a cruel and unfeeling father, had inadvertently provided the information that allowed the English to defeat the man. She knew Rhys shouldered a terrible guilt for that innocent
mistake. It was, no doubt, what fueled his violent hatred of the English—and especially of the FitzHughs.
    Still, she was more than uneasy about this plan of his. She needed to be clearer about her role. “You want me to go to the castle village and learn what I can of the children—when they come and go. But do you promise if you capture one of them that you will not allow the child to be hurt? You must promise me that, Rhys. The child must not be hurt!”
    He kicked over an oaken bucket, then glared down at her, his fists planted on his hips. “Do you think so little of me, Rhonwen? Do you truly believe I would murder helpless babes? Jesus, God,” he swore. “’Tis their father I want—and their uncle.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is that the source of your hesitation, that I will kill Jasper FitzHugh at the first opportunity?”
    Rhonwen shot to her feet. “I tried to kill him for you. Why would I balk at your finishing the deed?”
    Fortunately Rhys did not seem any more eager than she to pursue that subject further. With a terse nod, he acknowledged her words, then turned to his men.
    The plan was simple. Rhonwen was to visit Carreg Du, the Welsh village nearest Rosecliffe, and ingratiate herself with Josselyn’s Aunt Nesta. As a child Rhonwen had briefly resided in her household. Old Nesta was a direct line to Josselyn and her children, and it should not take long for Rhonwen to learn enough to put the plan into motion.
    Rhys, meanwhile, would muster aid from among Carreg Du’s malcontents, and when the moment was right, he would strike.
    The only problem was in knowing how long Randulf FitzHugh would be away from Rosecliffe. Which brother was more likely to relent and open the castle gates to the Welsh, the children’s uncle or their father?
    That tricky point was a question only time would answer. But as Rhys reasoned to his men, it did not matter. If Jasper FitzHugh would not surrender, when Rand returned he surely would. He would not allow his beloved children to disappear forever.

    Rhonwen listened and she appreciated Rhys’s plan. But it nonetheless left her exceedingly uneasy. What if, while she was at Carreg Du, she came across Jasper? What if he should hear that she was near to the castle and sought her out?
    As Rhonwen prepared to leave the rebel camp, Rhys finally addressed that subject. “Jasper FitzHugh will seek you out,” he stated. “When he learns that you are at Carreg Du—and mark my words, he will learn of it—he will seek you out. You will have to gird yourself to resist his blandishments.”
    “It will be no difficult task to resist him,” Rhonwen vowed. “Indeed, he may prove to be our best source of information.” She gave him an arch look as she wrapped a couvrechef around her neck and head. “’Tis said a man’s brains reside in his braies. If that is so, I will have no problem with him.”
    She gave Rhys a smug smile, then left. He hadn’t liked that last remark at all, judging by the scowl on his face. Good, she thought as she followed a deer trail through the dense woods. Still, she was no more comfortable with the idea of Jasper pursuing her than Rhys was. How would he react to her appearance?
    How would she react to his?
    The little shiver that snaked down her back sent an alarming answer. Though she hated to admit it, even to herself, the truth was, she found the man sinfully attractive. Because of him, she