She covered her eyes with balled fists. “You know nothing of what I suffer. I wish I had died of the plague. My life is a living death.”
He went quickly to embrace her, to comfort her in her despair, but she remained rigid in his arms, lost in her misery. He suddenly remembered something Rhys had said to him earlier, something he had not agreed with at the time. He did too much for Isolda. He wondered if Rhys might be right. He did everything for her.
“Isolda,” he said quietly after several minutes of silence, broken only by her sobs, “I’m going away for a few days.”
She flinched. “You would leave me alone?”
This would be difficult. “You won’t be alone. Rhun and Glain are here, as are Rhys and Annalise. You have your maids. You don’t need me.”
“But where are you going? How far?”
He took her dismay as a good sign. “Not far. I’ll be back before you know I’m gone. It’s to do with food supplies for Cadair Berwyn.”
She hesitated. “You’ll return?”
“Do you care if I come back?”
Tears welled in her eyes and she struggled to contain them. Were they tears of fear or did she still love him?
She stiffened her spine. “I’ll miss you, but, as you say, I won’t be alone.”
He determined not to kiss her. “Goodbye then.”
He glanced back before he left. She came to her feet, shoulders drooped, fidgeting with the belt of her surcoat dress, listening for the sound of the door closing. Her air of utter vulnerability tempted him to abandon his plan, but they couldn’t go on the way they were.
He located his brothers in the neuadd. There would be no turning back if he told them. He cleared his throat. “Rhys, I’ve come to the reluctant conclusion you’re right about Isolda. I’ve told her I’m leaving for a few days.”
Rhun seemed surprised. “Where are you going?”
Rhys understood. “He’s not going anywhere. He’ll withdraw from Isolda and she’ll be forced to depend on herself. We’ll assist her of course, but only with what’s absolutely necessary.”
Rhun rubbed his chin. “Glain will never go along with such a plan.”
Rhys took firm hold of his elbow. “You must convince her it’s for Isolda’s own good. Her self pity is destroying her soul and her marriage.”
Rhun looked at them both curiously.
Rhydderch struggled to maintain his composure. “I envy your happiness, Rhun. Isolda hasn’t yet shared my bed. I must do something or I’ll go mad.”
Rhun’s mouth fell open. “I’m sorry, brother, I’ve been caught up in my own delirious happiness and failed to recognize your torment. I’ve likely made it worse, have I not?” He banged his fist on the table. “We’ll help. Where is she now?”
“In the little chamber, where she always is.”
Rhun came to his feet. “I’ll find Glain, and explain things to her. We’ll leave Isolda there for a while to dwell on your absence. She’s not used to being alone. It will be hard for her.”
Rhydderch slumped into a chair. “It will be more difficult for me. I’ll want to rush to her aid.”
* * *
Sweating, Rhydderch leaned his forehead against the cold stone wall of the passageway. Isolda had been alone for two hours. He had never stood in one place for such a long period of time. How agitated she must be, no doubt cursing him for leaving her.
He startled when the door of the little chamber opened. Isolda stood on the threshold, clinging nervously to the frame. “Hello. Is anyone there? I need help to get to my chamber.”
She strained to listen. He held his breath. She must not discover he stood watch. Her face betrayed her anger and frustration, and her fear. His heart went out to her. Be strong, he wanted to say, to himself as much as to her.
She went back into the room, slamming the door. Perhaps a good sign?
Rhun and Glain walked by him a short time later. His brother winked as they entered the little chamber, leaving the door ajar. Isolda sternly berated them for leaving her alone. Rhydderch was relieved at Glain’s reply. “Isolda, you’ll manage. Your husband will be back in a few days, and there is usually someone nearby who can help.”
She continued to rail. “I’ve been here for at least two hours.”
Rhun’s voice. “Why didn’t you call for someone?”
Isolda’s snappy retort. “I did. No one came.”
Rhun persevered. “Your chamber isn’t far from here. Come, I’ll show you. Then, if it happens again, you’ll be able to make your own way there.”
Isolda protested. “I can’t—”
Glain glanced at her husband, who winked back. “Rhun is right. You must learn to do some things for yourself.”
It broke Rhydderch’s heart to watch his wife grope her way along the walls as she followed Rhun’s voice to her chamber. Wrenching sobs shook her once she got inside. She had probably collapsed on the bed. He sent her maids in to tend to her needs, with strict instructions not to reveal his presence.
* * *
For a fortnight he watched, a silent sentinel. Isolda struggled with her demons, but he noticed an increased confidence in the way she made her way round the llys. One day, she sought out Glain in the Still Room, and his sister-by-marriage later told him Isolda had touched and smelled several of the herbs and salves. Glain showed her a path in the herb garden where she might walk to a tree and sit on a bench. A few days later, she ventured there alone, smiling as she raised her face to the sun. He was surprised she couldn’t hear the thudding of his heart. If Rhydderch couldn’t watch her, Rhun took his place. No injury would befall her.
Naked and alone in his bed every night, Rhydderch dreamed Isolda came to him and pressed her lithe, warm body against his. The evidence of his erotic dreams was only too plain on the soiled linens each morning. He fell into a fitful sleep on the last night of his supposed journey. Rhun had told Isolda he would return on the morrow.
He hoped she would welcome him back. Mayhap she hadn’t missed him.
Again, he dreamed Isolda came to him and pressed her naked body to his. In his dream he cupped her bottom in his big hands and pulled her to his arousal.
She moaned. Her delicate hands played across his chest, grazing his male nipples, and her soft lips brushed his mouth. He opened to her inviting tongue and kissed her back, longingly.
“If only this wasn’t a dream,” he groaned, half awake now, his hand clamped on his tarse.
“You’re not dreaming, Rhydderch.”
His eyes flew open. Moonlight flooded the chamber, reflecting on the flaxen hair of a maiden cuddled into him. Was he still dreaming or had Isolda come naked to his bed? Her slender legs were entwined around his. He eased away to look at her. The moon’s rays illuminated her beautiful breasts, the pink nipples begging to be suckled. His heart raced wildly and his tarse turned to granite.
“Isolda!”
She nuzzled her head into his chest. “Make love to me, husband. I need you.”
* * *
Rhydderch drew her face to his and kissed her deeply. She arched her body and opened her mouth in response to his coaxing. He sucked her tongue into his mouth. She raked her fingers through his long hair and felt his hard maleness grow more insistent against her. She longed for him to fill her, to rid her of the emptiness she had endured. His lips moved to her breasts and he suckled her with a hard rhythm, like a thirst-crazed man delivered from the desert. She arched her back again and a strangled shout emerged from her throat as the aching need built. She pulled away and traced her hands slowly down his taut belly to where they found what they timidly sought. He groaned.
“I’ve longed to touch you, Rhydderch. You’re silken, and heavy.”
He took one hand and guided it to cup his ceilliau. “Feel all of me, Isolda.”
His throaty growl intensified the ache in her loins and echoed in her womb. She breathed his name.
He rose above her. “I’ve often dreamt of our first time together and planned
it to be slow and beautiful for you, but I’m about to lose control. I need to be one with you.”
She opened her legs. “Come inside me.”
Still he hesitated, his voice full of need. “But if you’re not ready it will be painful for you.”
She moved her hands on his manhood, urging him to her. “It can’t be any more painful than the ache driving me now.”
* * *
Rhydderch groaned and touched his finger to Isolda’s female centre. She was wet and inviting, her bud swollen. “Isolda, forgive me, I have to come inside you.” He knelt, positioned the engorged tip of his shaft at her entry then plunged through the barrier.
She cried out but rocked against him, matching his strokes, pulling his hips towards her. He felt the pulsating heat of her sheath as delirious rapture surged through his loins and his seed entered her body. He cried out her name, straining to hold on to his wits as the chamber spun around him.
When his racing heart slowed, he held her close and sat on the edge of the bed, fastening her legs around his hips, burying her head against his neck, supporting her back with his hands. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders and his chest. He breathed in the enticing scent of rosemary. They were one at last.
Gradually, their breathing steadied. He kissed the top of her head. “I want to stay inside you forever. Next time will be better. I’ll be more in control and will give you more pleasure. You took me by surprise.”
She laughed and stroked his cheek. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Hearing her laughter made him want to cry with joy. He licked her fingertips. “How did you discover I had returned?”
“You never left.”
It was as well she couldn’t see the sheepish look on his face. “When did you know?”
“A blind person comes to rely on other senses. After my two hours of fuming, I detected a note of conspiracy in Glain’s voice. When I opened the door a few minutes before her arrival with Rhun, you were in the hallway. I was angry with you and slammed the door.”
“How did you discern my presence? I held my breath.”
She pressed her nose to his chest and inhaled deeply. “Rhydderch, my love, before I lost my sight I recognized your scent anywhere. I can tell the moment you enter a room, even if you don’t make a sound. As soon as your scent fills my nostrils I want to wrestle you to the ground and make love to you.”
He had been softening, but her words renewed his interest. “Now that’s more like the saucy Isolda I love.”
She rested her forehead against his. “I’ve been such a fool. I couldn’t let go of my anger. I wanted to drive you away, but I would die if you left me.”
He untangled her legs from around his and gathered her up in his arms, cradling her tightly. “You’ve suffered a devastating loss, but you are courageous. I was convinced your courage would overcome your anger. I’m sorry I lost my temper. I’m too much in love with you.”
She twirled her fingers in his hair. “I suspect I have Rhys to thank for this plan to force me out of myself?”
He chuckled. “It was a conspiracy. Now, we can sleep for a while, and then we might wake and surprise each other again—and again.”
He left her to find a wet cloth. “I’m going to wash you. Don’t be alarmed.”
He dabbed away the proof he was the first to possess her body, planting kisses on her thighs. “On the morrow, I’ll run these linens up the flagpole.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You will not, Rhydderch ap Rhodri. I won’t have the whole llys know I’ve tortured my husband.”
He laughed. “I spoke in jest. Don’t worry. People will guess by looking at your face we’ve made love.”
She smiled. “Is it obvious?”
Her beauty took his breath away. “You were a beautiful girl. Now you’re a radiant woman, and I’m a satisfied man. I’ve bedded my first virgin. You were tight. I hope you’re not sore.”
She shook her head and felt for his tarse. “Was I too tight?”
He kissed her forehead. “It can never be too tight.”
He climbed back into bed and curled his body around her, one hand on her thigh, the other cupping a breast, her neck resting on his arm. She fell asleep and he watched her for a long while, elated he had wrestled some of her demons to submission, but aware there would be many challenges ahead.
Now they would face them together. Life was complete.
Epilogue
Despite Baudoin’s worries, Carys gave birth two years later to another daughter, Isabelle, without any complications.
Rhys became as well known and loved as his father before him, though for different reasons. The Welsh people honored him for the improvements he wrought in their lives; as well as roads, he built bridges—of stone and of peace.
Five of his and Annalise’s children survived to adulthood, their firstborn, Gertrude Rhonwen, sons Cynan, Gareth, and Trystan, and lastly, another daughter, Lyneth.
Rhys walked with a slight limp for the rest of his life. Wherever he travelled in Wales, people nodded in recognition and whispered the oft-told story of his tumble into the abyss, and his rescue by those other Welsh patriots, Rhun and Rhydderch. It all added to his stature and became part of the legend of the Sons of Rhodri.
Isolda never regained her sight, but visitors rarely suspected she was blind until informed of it. Her skill as a healer was often compared to Rhonwen’s. Her word in the household was law.
She bore eight children to Rhydderch—two sets of red-haired twins, Rhodri and Rhonwen, Gwilym and Isolda, sons Rhun and Morgan and daughters Megan and Catrin. All of their offspring grew to be adults and had families of their own.
Rhun sired ten children, including one set of twins whom they naturally christened Rhodri and Rhonwen. They, along with daughters Glain, Carys and Gwyneth and sons Rhun, Rhydderch and Daffyd, survived into adulthood, married and had children. Osian and Blodwen were born too early and did not live long enough to celebrate their first birthday.
The redheaded twins spent the summer months with their families in Cadair Berwyn, the mountain fortress their father had built, where their parents had first met, and where they had been born. The children preferred life there. Their absence left more room at Powwydd for Rhys and Annalise’s five.
Rhodri and Rhonwen’s firstborn, Myfanwy Mabelle, the Prioress of Llansanfraid, came occasionally to visit the llys. She was fond of remarking how fortunate the family was she had borne no children and that Carys and Baudoin lived elsewhere with their brood. She complained good-naturedly that the place resembled a rabbit warren when all Rhodri’s grandchildren were in residence, especially when they were difficult to tell apart and bore the same names.
The notorious twosome did not abandon their fight for Welsh freedom from Norman domination, but weren’t as reckless as before. Their families depended on them. They would always share the bond of being born together. Now spaces defined their togetherness.
* * *
The first four volumes of The Montbryce Legacy Anniversary Edition are now available in a boxed set at a considerable saving. Read it for FREE on KindleUnlimited. Grab it today.
Watch for CRESCENDO, Book 8 of the Legacy coming soon.
About Anna
Thank you for reading Allegiance. If you’d like to leave a review where you purchased the book, and/or on Goodreads, I would appreciate your taking the time to do so. Reviews contribute greatly to an author’s success.
I’d love you to visit my website and my Facebook page, Anna Markland Novels.
Tweet me @annamarkland, join me on Pinterest, or sign up for my newsletter.
Follow me on BookBub and be the first to know when my next book is released.
I was born in England, but I’ve lived most of my life in Canada.
Education, business and disaster relief provided three interesting careers before I became a published writer.
I have a keen interest in genealogy. This hobby has had a tremendous influence on my stories. My
medieval romances are tales of family honor, ancestry, and roots.
For me, novels are an escape into another world and time where I lose myself in the characters’ lives, confident they will triumph in the end and find love. I love ferreting out bits of historical trivia in order to provide the reader with an authentic historical experience.
I hope you come to know and love my cast of characters as much as I do and enjoy getting intimate with history.
I would like to acknowledge the invaluable assistance of Maria McIntyre, beta reader extraordinaire.
Allegiance Page 13
