She nodded. ‘And as I promised, I will speak to Rhys and Warrick on your behalf when we arrive.’
He nodded, though he doubted if her brothers would agree since there was no betrothal. At least, not yet. At the moment, he did not need her brothers’ men, since all he intended to do in the next few days was scout out Clonagh’s defences. But afterwards, it was critical to have enough men to ensure the victory.
‘Rhiannon seemed excited when I saw her just now,’ Joan said as they neared the stables. ‘Did something happen?’
He slowed down and admitted, ‘I asked her to help me choose a gift for you.’
‘A gift?’ Her brows furrowed. ‘For what reason?’
‘To bribe you,’ he said smoothly. ‘I have every faith that it will be nearly as exciting as the pile of rocks at Ennisleigh.’
‘That’s not possible,’ she answered wryly. ‘But have you seen the bribe?’
‘I have no idea what she selected—only that she tied her ribbon around it.’ He decided to refrain from mentioning that it was an animal.
Joan appeared intrigued by the idea and followed him towards the stables. Inside, it was dark, and it smelled of hay and horses. Ronan wasn’t entirely certain what they were looking for, but he imagined that one of the dogs had given birth. Or perhaps it was a cat. Yet, he saw no smaller animals within the stables.
‘I don’t see anything,’ Joan said at last. ‘Do you think it’s in one of the stalls?’
‘I truly don’t know. I suppose we’ll find out together.’
Her face brightened at the prospect, and they continued searching. When they reached the last stall, Joan gave a slight cry. ‘Oh, my. Look, Ronan.’
Inside the stall, one of the mares had just given birth. She was cleaning her baby, and a blue ribbon was tied to the foal’s front leg. The foal wobbled towards its mother, and Joan’s face was alight with wonder. ‘Is it a filly or a colt, do you think?’
Ronan tilted his head, ‘It looks like a filly.’
‘Look at how beautiful she is,’ Joan breathed. ‘I couldn’t possibly take her from her mother until she’s older, but she’s a wonder.’
‘Better than rocks?’ he teased.
‘Much better.’ Joan embraced him on impulse, but when she tried to pull away, he held her waist a moment longer. In the darkness of the stable, she froze, resting her palms on his chest. He leaned his forehead upon hers, breathing in the scent of her. For this single moment, he pushed back the past and concentrated on her.
Although she was not a young maiden, there was an innocence about her—a goodness that drew him closer. He wanted to tempt her, to drive her past the boundaries of virtue until she surrendered to him. But he was torn between desire and obligations.
‘I know I shouldn’t accept this gift, Ronan,’ she whispered. ‘It isn’t right to take the filly from the MacEgans.’
‘Connor gave his daughter permission to choose,’ he murmured. ‘I see no harm in it. I will reimburse them for the animal.’
‘Thank you.’ She rested her head against his heart, and for a moment, he savoured the touch of her embrace.
‘I enjoyed spending the day with you, Joan,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve had few reasons to smile in the past few months.’ He stroked back her hair, and she didn’t pull away.
‘I enjoyed it, too, Ronan.’ She braved a smile, but he could see the rise of emotion in her eyes.
‘I have been thinking...’ he began, feeling foolish. ‘About marriage, that is.’
She paused, her expression turning curious. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I know that you have no wish to wed,’ he said, ‘but—’
Before he could finish, she suddenly cut him off. ‘That isn’t true at all. I would very much like to be married.’ She drew back and stared into his eyes. ‘If I could break the curse, I would welcome a marriage and a family of my own.’
Before he could continue, Joan went on, ‘But if I become your betrothed, you could die. And I cannot let that happen. No matter how I might feel about you.’
Her words pierced him like a spear, at the realisation that she did care for him. It felt as if the ground had shifted beneath him. This woman was willing to give him up to save his life. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had treated him like a man of worth.
She stepped back, and he saw the devastation on her face. Without a word, she turned and fled.
Chapter Four
After she left the stables, Joan’s mind filled up with worry. She could not forget Ronan’s embrace or his kiss. The yearning made her feel uneasy, for she knew she should not develop feelings for this man.
But a part of her knew it was too late. If he were struck down at Clonagh, it would wound her heart. She liked Ronan, and his presence had pushed away the cloak of loneliness that she had worn for so many years. With him at her side, it felt like she had set aside the shell of herself, filling up the empty spaces within. Her brothers supported a match between them, and she had sensed that Ronan was going to ask her to reconsider a betrothal. She couldn’t answer that—not unless she could break the curse. And there was no way to know if that would ever happen.
Ronan had said they would leave on the morrow at dawn, and he would escort her to Killalough. The thought of facing her brothers was intimidating, for they would want to witness a betrothal on her behalf. Though she had told Ronan she would convince them to offer soldiers, she knew in her heart that they would not grant them—not without her promise to wed.
But even if she did find a way to lift the curse, Ronan had refused to sire a child. She could not understand why, for he was the sort of man whom she could easily imagine as a father. But whatever the reason, it was an invisible wall between them—one she could not ignore.
When she returned to the donjon, Queen Isabel invited her to join the other ladies in the solar. Young Liam and Rhiannon were seated at the far end of the chamber.
‘I am glad you could join us,’ Isabel greeted her. ‘The men are gathered together, discussing their strategy.’
Joan chose a seat beside Aileen. The dark-haired beauty smiled warmly at her, but she could not speak the Norman language. Isabel translated on her behalf.
‘Aileen said that your gown is beautiful,’ the queen remarked.
Joan thanked her and then mentioned Rhiannon. ‘Your daughter is beautiful as well. She helped Ronan choose a gift for me, and will you tell her that I loved it?’
Isabel translated for both mother and daughter, and the little girl brightened. Joan then turned back to the queen. In a low voice, she said in the Norman language, ‘I understand, if I cannot accept the filly.’
The queen dismissed her fears. ‘Ronan will compensate Patrick for the animal. You needn’t worry.’
They continued to talk while several of the women embroidered linen. Joan picked up some mending and occupied herself while they spoke in Irish. It didn’t bother her that she couldn’t understand them, for it allowed her thoughts to drift back over the day. She had truly enjoyed herself with Ronan, even if they were simply sharing a meal amid the ruins. And she could not deny that she was attracted to him. Each time he drew near, her heart beat faster, and she longed for his touch.
She was starting to care for this man and it would hurt to let him go. But her defences were crumbling, and she knew not how to reinforce them.
‘Joan, I am sorry we have been neglecting you,’ Queen Isabel said. ‘Aileen was telling us of how she and Connor were reunited after many years. I will translate as she tells us what happened.’
Joan did want to hear the story, but asked, ‘Is it true that he did not know of his daughter until recently?’
After the queen translated, Aileen nodded. Then she began her tale, and Isabel relayed it back to Joan.
‘At the feast of Bealtaine, I took my friend’s place as the goddess Dan
u in the Sacred Marriage,’ Aileen said. ‘I lay with Connor that night in the darkness, and we conceived Rhiannon. After he left, I did not tell him of the child, and I married an older man instead. He took care of me for a time until he died a few years later.’
Aileen’s face turned wistful. ‘Rhiannon is my only child thus far, and never do I regret how she came into my life. But I am so thankful that Connor became my husband.’ Her face shone with joy at the thought.
The young woman’s revelation struck Joan in a way she hadn’t thought of. Aileen had lain with Connor in secret, never revealing herself to him until years later. It made Joan wonder what sort of courage it took to reach for the man she wanted.
The idea was so forbidden, her mind could not relinquish it. Though it was sinful, she envisioned a night with Ronan in her arms, and her skin prickled with anticipation. She did desire him, and each kiss tempted her more than the last. When he had kissed her, he had responded with his own need.
The very idea of seducing him shook her to the bone.
‘You’re very quiet, Joan,’ the queen remarked. ‘Are you all right?’
She nodded. ‘I’ve just been feeling troubled, that’s all.’
‘If you are unwell, Aileen can help,’ the queen offered. ‘She is a skilled healer.’
They didn’t truly understand...but then, how could they? Joan’s face was burning, but she admitted, ‘It’s not truly a healing matter. It’s about a...a family curse. I need to find a way to break it, or else I can never marry.’
Instead of chiding her or accusing her of foolish beliefs, the queen seemed to consider the problem with all seriousness. ‘To break a curse, you may wish to consult a wise woman. Our healer, Annle, knows enough of the Norman tongue. She has served me for several years now, and I trust her.’
It might not do any good. And yet, what other choice did she have?
Joan murmured her thanks, though she was frustrated with herself for remaining passive all these years. Her previous efforts to avoid the curse had come to naught. Being a woman of virtue had done nothing to bring about her greatest desire, to conceive and bear a child.
Her gaze moved towards the children on the opposite side of the room. The look of utter joy on Liam’s face made her smile as he stacked a wooden block on top of another before he giggled and knocked it down. There was nothing more heartwarming than the laugh of a child.
And all she had was an abyss of loneliness stretching ahead. Her father was ill and dying, and soon he would be gone. Her brothers had moved away, leaving her to care for him, now that his wife Rowena had passed on. The stone walls of Montbrooke were closing in on her like a prison with no doorway. At least if she bore a child, she would have someone to love.
Today, she had glimpsed a very different life. She had laughed and enjoyed herself with Ronan. For one afternoon, she had put aside her fears and simply lived her life as she wanted to. God help her, she never wanted to go back to the isolated existence she had known. Here, she had freedom like she had never experienced before. And she didn’t want to lose that.
Somehow, she had to speak with this wise woman and learn if there was any way to break the curse.
* * *
It was later that evening when Joan found the elderly woman, Annle, in a small dwelling that smelled of rosemary and other dried herbs. The wise woman had white braided hair, and she was holding a mortar and pestle.
‘Queen Isabel said I could find you here,’ Joan began. ‘Do you understand the Norman language?’
The healer gave a nod. ‘I do, yes. Our queen believed everyone here should learn the language, because of the Norman invaders. It was safer for all of us.’
Joan was relieved to hear it. And yet, she had no idea how to ask the woman for what she wanted. She hardly knew the answer herself. The only clarity was her resolution to break the curse. Ronan had spent so much time with her, she was terrified that he would face death when he returned to Clonagh on the morrow. And if there was a charm or method to prevent it, she would not hesitate.
‘The queen thought...you might be able to help me,’ she began. ‘There is a curse upon me, one that prevents me from marrying. Every man I have been betrothed to has died.’
The healer set aside her mortar and pestle. Her expression held sympathy. ‘Many men die, my lady. But it does not mean there is a curse.’
Joan met the woman’s gaze evenly. ‘For me there is. And I have to end it tonight. I will pay any price if it can be done.’
Annle studied her for a moment. Her gnarled face was thoughtful, and she enquired, ‘Is there a man who has caught your interest? Someone you wish to marry?’
A flush of embarrassment spread over her cheeks, for Joan nearly admitted yes. She had grown to care for Ronan very much, and there was no question that she desired him. His kiss had left her breathless and wanting more.
Neither of them had wanted a marriage in the beginning. Now, she wondered if there was any hope of having a different life.
‘There is...someone,’ she confessed to Annle. ‘But if there is a curse, I don’t want to endanger him. He is leaving on the morrow, and there may be a battle. I am afraid of what could happen.’
The old woman waited for her to elaborate, but Joan couldn’t bring herself to say more. She already felt foolish enough in seeking help.
Finally, Annle spoke. ‘There are no herbs or remedies that will lift a curse. Yet, if he is the man you wish to wed, there are ways to bind him to you.’
Joan didn’t know what to think of Annle’s answer. ‘I do not want him to be harmed when he leaves. I cannot let it happen—not if there is a way I can protect him.’
‘Do you believe he will die if you do not lift the curse?’
Joan nodded. ‘I am certain of it.’ Somehow, she had to end this misfortune. Whether or not she was promised to Ronan, she did not want her curse to shadow him.
‘And how much would you sacrifice to save him?’ Annle asked quietly.
‘I will do whatever I must,’ Joan answered. He was a good man and did not deserve to die. ‘What must I do to ensure his safety?’
The healer set aside her mortar and pestle, her expression unreadable. ‘The sacrifice will be great. But it will bind him to you beyond this world. The only question is whether you want him badly enough for it to succeed.’
A sudden sense of foreboding slid within her veins, but she forced herself to ask, ‘What must I do?’
‘You must go to him this night, and surrender your innocence,’ Annle answered. ‘Take his body inside yours, and his spirit will be caught within you. Then the curse cannot touch him, because his essence will be bound to yours. And if he is a man of honour, he will wed you to save your virtue.’
For a moment, she could hardly breathe. I cannot.
How could she even imagine such a thing? She knew nothing of seduction, and the price was far too great. She wanted to break the curse, not force Ronan to lie with her.
Her mind spun with the implications. If she came to Ronan in the darkness, he would resent her for it. He might believe she was trying to steal a child from him against his will. This was wrong in so many ways.
Yet, earlier, he had started to speak of a betrothal once more. She had cut him off, believing it was impossible. But what if she was mistaken? What if she could find a way to break the curse and seize a life with Ronan? Was that not worth the risk?
The idea of seducing him was both terrifying and arousing. There could be no turning back if she did as the healer commanded.
‘What if he does not desire me?’ she asked the healer. ‘I know naught of men or how to offer myself.’
The old woman’s wrinkled face stretched into a smile. ‘I can brew a potion for you that will make you alluring to him. But it can only heighten arousal and any feelings he may already have. If he does not want you, there is nothing I can do.’
The very thought of using a potion to seduce a man terrified her. Joan could only imagine him refusing to drink it or refusing to lie with her. It would be humiliating.
‘Will he know what is happening?’ she asked. She didn’t like the thought of forcing herself upon him against his will. It needed to be his choice, despite the risks.
‘He will know, but if he has feelings towards you, he will not care.’
Joan closed her eyes, trying to decide what was right. ‘If I do this, it will make him furious.’ He might cast her out, ending the friendship between them. And she didn’t want to imagine losing him.
The healer reached for basil, chamomile, and lavender. ‘If you please him, he will forgive you.’ She added a few more unfamiliar herbs and began mixing them in a stone mortar. With the pestle, she ground them together. ‘You will need a strong wine. Soak this mixture in half a cup of wine until you are ready. Then add a heated wine to mask the flavours. He will still taste them.’
‘After he drinks it, will he need to lie down?’ She felt foolish for asking. ‘Will it cause him to sleep?’
Annle laughed lightly. ‘He will not be wanting to sleep, my lady. But you should go to him wearing only your cloak. The moon will be full tonight. Unclothe yourself and kiss him within his chamber. Do not speak, but offer your body to him, and touch him as you will.’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ she admitted, feeling ashamed.
But the healer grew serious. ‘Once you have aroused him, you will place his shaft within your womanhood and ride him. Take him swiftly, and you will find what you seek.’
‘And afterwards, the curse will be broken?’ Joan ventured.
The healer stared at her for a moment, a slight smile on her face. ‘Yes. I believe it will be.’
* * *
Ronan stared outside the window of his chamber later that night. The wagons were packed for Joan’s return to Killalough, but she had been acting strangely since he had seen her an hour ago. She seemed nervous and had been twisting at the iron cross around her neck. When he asked her what was wrong, she had insisted that it was nothing. But her face had flamed at the question, and he did not press for more answers.
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