Before she lost her nerve, Rowanne made her way to the place the men from the Dane Lands were camped. It was difficult to miss the spot given the red banner. Knowing her face was flushed anyway, she became even more embarrassed when Jens came up behind her and appeared to think she was a male.“Get lost,” he said, in the Norse language. “We were here first.”“It’s me. Is Ulf inside?”“Rowanne? What are you doing here?”“Same as you,” she said, with no little pride.It wasn’t the whole truth but he didn’t need to know that.“Look at you. Just look at you.”She quailed beneath the admiration in his eyes.“Answer the question, please.”“Where did you disappear to?”This was getting her nowhere.“Your beard’s fuller these days.”Jens clutched his chin with no little pride. “The others don’t mock me so much now. Come inside. Halfdan and Bjarne will be glad to know you survived whatever happened that night.”She swallowed. He still hadn’t mentioned Ulf. It was as she had feared: he was angr
Eithne remained up on the battlements long after the last horsemen had left. Her arm wasn’t stiff from waving, as it would not have been seemly, though her cheeks felt frozen by the cold breeze which had sprung up, and she was grateful for the Frankish shawl which had arrived via a foreign pedlar only yesterday. The linen was still stiff though she simply adored the embroidery on the edges. Though not quite a bride, she felt like any woman watching her man ride away: apprehensive and heartsick. The heirloom she wore on a gold chain around her neck. Superstition forbade her from even trying it on for size. His sister may want it back. But the thought had been a good one. It counted on the plus side of his increasingly pleasing attributes. She caught herself before the blush had chance to properly form. Last night had been a tender experience, one never to be forgotten, as they shared their hopes and dreams once the lovemaking was done. She felt fortunate it had been Xander she encount
Clara was seated on a small stool in the middle of her cell, regarding her nails critically and as if they were the enemy. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, pointedly ignoring Rowanne. “I came to see how you were doing,” Eithne lied, in the way the despised court etiquette had taught her. “To gloat more like. In your shoes, I would do the same.” “Do you need a change of clothes?” She held her nose. “It stinks in here.” “My slop pail is full.” “I’ll send someone. In fact, Rowanne, would you be kind enough to fetch one of the girls?” She drew the bodyguard aside discreetly, making a request which seemed to meet with her approval if the light in her eyes was anything to go by. “Will you be okay, Eithne?” She squared her shoulders. “I think I can deal with any threat from a lone Frankian, especially one as filthy as this. Stand up, Mama. Is that blood on your gown? I suggest you remove it with all speed.” Eithne held out her hand as if she were about to take possession of the article of c
“God forbid we are invaded while Xander is overseas.” The irony of that statement struck Eithne only after she had uttered it. Hard to believe the conqueror would go to war on behalf of Ormond when he had no real intention of usurping the crown from its rightful king. If she had helped him come to a decision about that it would feel like she had also done her bit for the realm. “Where is King Ephron? What’s taking so long?” Princess Ava was as edgy as ever. Eithne hoped she hadn’t been serious about the cloistered life. She pitied those poor nuns already. The other two princesses, Isabel and Cassie, had very different fortunes, also. Naturally, Isabel was worried about Lars, while her sister claimed it wouldn’t bother her if Adam didn’t return. Who knew what the truth was regarding those two? Jocasta didn’t want for company and had even made it outside, with her brother’s help. For some reason she had stopped making predictions. Eithne knew that didn’t mean she couldn’t foresee t
Eithne was first stunned then dismayed when she heard the news. Ephron had ordered Clara’s release from the tower and she was currently under guard in a chamber close to his. It seemed he was about to pardon her for her “misguided actions” and believed her when she blamed it mainly on Edgar.As far as anyone knew he was still languishing in the tower and she had no desire to pay him a visit anytime soon.The summons came as she was preparing for bed. There was no time to don a suitable gown so she contented herself with a thick robe, lined with ermine, and hoped this dressing down wouldn’t take long.Beauregard was the first person she saw. She would recognise that red hair anywhere. His language skills were still not all they could be but she understood he was pleased to see her and hoped she was well.“I am tired,” she admitted, placing her palms together and laying her head against them briefly.It made him stifle a yawn and she wanted to laugh, despite everything.Was her brother
Word had reached de Mornay of a hostile force marching through Normandy. He mocked the very idea, even though the rumours said it was headed up by a bastard.“Send in Fleur,” he said, draining the dregs of wine from his goblet. The maidservant curtseyed before scurrying to obey. He sensed her relief but preferred to believe it was disappointment. “This should entertain you, my love.”His wife was sitting up in bed, still weak from losing their child. He didn’t blame her; Xander never brought him anything but ill-luck. Now it was time for payback.The young woman was dressed provocatively in a too tight gown which matched her striking green eyes.“I can see the resemblance,” Lysette said.“Except for the freckles. Don’t you find them ugly, my love?”“Some say they are kisses from the sun,” she remarked, moving restlessly beneath the coverlet.“I wonder what else has entered that pretty mouth.”“You are disgusting, de Mornay.”“Careful, Fleur. I could have you whipped.”“My name is Gene
They didn’t find her in her bedchamber, though Iain didn’t regret busting the lock and damaging the door. Those things were replaceable; she was not. Hermione was missing, too, and so was Daffyd. To him that meant only one thing: Clara.How had she managed to escape?He went to ask King Ephron, closely followed by Rowanne. Megan had suggested to Ava they find a spot to hide and they were currently on their way to round up Isabel, Cassie, Becca and Jocasta, just in case.Grimly, he told himself that Xander had probably miscalculated when he took that huge fighting force over to Frankia. It had jeopardised the same girls over here as before. Perhaps that was jealousy talking, a feeling he had no right to, but he believed it to be true. The one time conqueror hadn’t done it on purpose, he had just proved not to be infallible.Though hadn’t all of them assumed the threat was nullified here?Eithne. If anyone had hurt her, he vowed to rip them apart, limb from limb.His first port of call
Xander was really tempted to order de Mornay and his wife to walk the plank, but he was no pirate, even if half his crew had the buccaneer mentality. They were on their way to see the King of Frankia, yet another old foe of his. He really hoped he hadn’t been on the payroll or there was no point.The fate of the other girls who were about to be auctioned off to harems was never far from his mind. Then he wondered if he had done the right thing in taking such a large force away from Ormond.What had he been thinking?Of course, Genevieve was important, but so was Eithne. As soon as his audience was over, he was bound and determined to head for home.A surprise awaited in the form of Marguerite, a lady-in-waiting who claimed to know Ephron. From their brief conversation, it appeared she knew the imposter rather than the current King of Ormond. Enlightening her, it soon became obvious he had given the woman pause for thought.She came running after him once he had concluded his tricky me