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

“Cadair Berwyn,” she whispered.
    Ronan nodded. “Aye. Cadair Berwyn. It’s a magnificent place to have been born.”
    It warmed her heart that he understood her feelings. “As magnificent as MacLachlainn Tower?”
    “Nay, naught is as magnificent as that.”
    He chuckled, but she heard the catch in his voice. She put a hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry, Ronan. I didn’t mean to provoke bad memories.”
    He remained silent. She grasped his outstretched arm as he lowered her to the ground. She instantly missed his warmth, but Rhodri quickly escorted her within the fortress walls. He led her to a large chamber. “This will be for you,” he said. “I invite you to make yourself at home.”
    It was not a chamber for guests, and she suspected it was Rhodri and Rhonwen’s. “This is much too grand. A smaller chamber would suffice for me.”
    He winked at her. “I would have you stay nowhere else but in the chamber where you first entered the world, Hylda Rhonwen de Montbryce.”
    He knew of her preference for the name Rhoni and she did not mind that he teased her. “I thank you, Lord Rhodri.”
    He bowed and left.
    She took off her boots and wandered around the chamber, inhaling deeply. Peace stole into her heart. She relived what she had been told of her birth in this room. She doubted it was the same bed her mother had lain in, but ran her hand along its edge, then climbed onto it and curled up contentedly, her knees pressed to her belly. A sense of expectancy swept over her, a certainty that there was a reason Fate had brought her and Ronan to this place. If only she could be sure it had something to do with love, and not politics.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
    Rhodri took great pride the next morning in showing off his fortress. As the tour progressed he regaled Rhoni with details of her mother’s long captivity many years before—though he referred to it as her ‘ stay’ . Ronan sensed his admiration for Countess Mabelle de Montbryce and noted how moved Rhoni was by his reminiscences.
    She was a woman whose face betrayed her feelings. She seemed guileless, like Mary, but was more outgoing than his wife. He supposed it was because she was a Norman raised in a household of people who deemed themselves superior to everyone else. Yet there was no arrogance in Rhoni, and from Rhodri’s tales of Mabelle de Montbryce, she was not an arrogant woman either. His curiosity about Ram de Montbryce grew.
    It was a daunting prospect, reaching out to a Norman Earl for help, particularly given his gruesome appearance. But he had no choice.
    He followed in Rhodri’s wake as the prince escorted Rhoni to her place at the midday meal. Ronan was invited to sit next to her on the dais. Grateful for the opportunity and the honour, he nodded his acknowledgement to his host as he took his seat.
    Rhoni smiled at him shyly and as usual that was all it took for his body to react. During the tour of the fortress, most people seeing him for the first time had gawked at his eye patch and noted his limp. Rhoni seemed oblivious to those defects. Despite his effort to remain serious, the corners of his mouth edged up in response. “You have a beautiful smile, Lady Rhoni,” he whispered.
    Now he sounded like a lovesick swain. He did not want her to think he was wooing her, because he wasn’t, he must not. He had to make it plain he needed her family’s help, but there would be no future for him until his vengeance was complete.
    Rhoni blushed, intensifying the ache in Ronan’s loins. “So do you,” she murmured. “You should smile more often.”
    She had not spoken with any sarcasm, but her innocent remark brought home to him sharply how quickly his life had changed. Perhaps as a foil to his father’s morose demeanour, Ronan had always enjoyed laughter. He had hoped to fill the lives of his wife and children with it.
    He took a deep breath and dug his nails into the palms of his clenched fists. Rhodri had been momentarily distracted by his