“Maman is in bed, little one.” He choked on the words. “She’s not feeling well.”
Thank the saints the nursery was far enough removed from his chamber they couldn’t hear their mother’s torment. His heart heavy with dread that when he returned, it would be to tell them their mother had died, he said, “I’m going to see how she fares.”
He made his way to the chamber where Carys’s life was ebbing away and hesitated at the door. Had he heard a baby’s cry? Oui, there it was again, more insistent this time. A child had been born. Would it live? Carys? Fear gripped him in its thrall.
Suddenly the door opened, the apprentice healer stepped out furtively and closed the door quickly. Her eyes widened when she turned and saw him. She took a deep breath. “My lord Earl,” she murmured. “You have a daughter. She’s very small and frail, but the midwife believes she’ll survive.”
Baudoin’s emotions warred within him. The girl wouldn’t look him in the eyes. He couldn’t speak. “My wife? My countess?”
The girl burst into tears. “My lady is dying. Pray for her, my lord.”
She rushed back into the chamber. A wave of nausea washed over him and he ran, fighting to keep from retching until he was out in the stables. An anxious stable boy approached him, but Baudoin shook his head and motioned him away. He sank to his hands and knees in the straw and vomited until he could retch no more. The nervous boy ran to the courtyard at the sound of horses. He took the reins of the lead horse that bore the Prince of Powwydd, his broken leg still encased in the stiffened binding Glain had wrapped it in. The boy steadied the horse and steward Tristan Bonhomme rushed forward to help Rhys dismount.
***
Rhys was suddenly smothered in his sobbing wife’s arms, her head pressed against his chest. He enfolded her in his cloak. She was speaking in such rapid French he could barely understand a word. Warmth spread through his veins. He held a woman who was distraught and worried about a man she loved. Could it be his Annalise loved him?
His attention wandered to the door of the stable, where Baudoin stood, swaying. He looked like he’d been retching. His hair was dishevelled. He mumbled as he staggered towards Rhys. “You’re a Norman Earl—a Montbryce. You’ll survive this.”
Rhys was alarmed. He kept an arm around Annalise and hobbled to Baudoin. “What ails you?” he asked.
Baudoin’s despair was evident as he explained to Rhys that his sister had given birth to a girl and now lay dying in her chamber. Annalise keened again for Rhys and his impending loss. “I feel useless and inadequate,” she said to them. “What can I do?”
Rhys’s heart thudded in his ears. Carys couldn’t die. He enfolded his pregnant wife in his arms, recognizing the fear in her eyes, and spoke to Baudoin. “Have you seen her? The child? How does she fare?”
Baudoin looked sheepish. “No,” he whimpered. “I thought only of Carys.”
Rhys shook Baudoin’s shoulder. “We must go to Carys. She needs you, and perhaps she needs me. Remember, I’m the son of Rhonwen Dda. I may not be a great healer like my mother and sisters, but I know a thing or two. Help me to your chambers. Annalise, go ahead and tell the midwives we’re coming. Time may be of the essence.”
His wife sped off to do his bidding. Baudoin seemed to rally. “It may not be conventional for a man to help save my wife’s life, but you’re her brother.”
He helped Rhys limp to their chambers. When they entered the room, the apprentice brought the newborn to Baudoin. He took the child in his arms and held her to his chest, brushing a kiss across her tiny forehead. “She’s like a flower,” he sniffled. “We’ll baptise her Fleurie.”
Annalise assisted Rhys to Carys’s bedside. He looked at his sister. Her tangled hair was plastered to her ashen face. The bloodstained linens heightened her pallor. He raised his eyes in question to the midwives. They shook their heads. He would need God’s help and every bit of lore his mother had passed on. Had he paid close enough attention?
The midwife wrung her hands. “We can’t stop the bleeding, my lord. We’ve given her a tea of lady’s mantle. When that didn’t work we followed it with a sage tea.”
“Teas won’t help her.” He bent over to whisper something in Welsh to Carys. She seemed barely awake, but looked at him and nodded.
He took a deep breath. “Ladies, we’ll try one more tea. Prepare it with dried shepherd’s purse steeped in hot water.”
They looked at him enquiringly, as though dumbfounded, but he waved them out. They scurried off to find the herb in the still room, evidently relieved to be doing something productive.
How to explain to Baudoin what he and Carys believed was the only way to save her? Never had he been more keenly aware of the difference in their cultures. “Baudoin, Carys agrees with me that what we need to do is massage her.”
Baudoin, still holding the sleeping Fleurie, looked at his brother-by-marriage, incomprehension evident on his frowning face. “Massage? I don’t understand.”
If only Rhys could get the weight off his leg. He too was feeling light-headed. He took a deep breath. “I’ll explain what my mother passed on to us. To stop the bleeding, Carys’s womb needs to be forced to go back to its usual size. That can only be achieved by massage if the womb fails to contract naturally. Carys doesn’t have the strength to do it. May I speak to the apprentice and attempt it?”
Baudoin stood open-mouthed. Rhys could tell he still didn’t understand. “Anything, Rhys. If it will save Carys.”
Rhys nodded grimly. “It may not work, but it’s her only hope.”
He went to the apprentice and explained to her calmly what must be done. “You’re the only person here who can help her now until the midwives return. This may take some time. Are you willing to try, Bronwynn?”
“I’ll try,” she stammered, but her trembling lip betrayed her trepidation.
He took her trembling hand and cupped it in his own, then pressed her fingers into her lady’s belly. Slowly, he moved her hand in deep, penetrating circles, squeezing the flesh repetitively. “This will help strengthen the womb. Don’t be afraid to press hard. It may pain her.”
The apprentice nodded, her eyes wide. He willed her to be calm. When he felt she had grasped the idea he removed his own hand. Carys’s eyes flew open. She took hold of Rhys’s hand and placed it back on her belly. He continued to help Bronwynn massage his sister, his hand firmly atop the apprentice’s.
After a while he turned to Baudoin. “Give the child to me. You can see what we’re doing here. It’s soothing her, if nothing else. Help your wife.”
He took Fleurie. Baudoin knelt to assist with the massaging. Carys opened her eyes and smiled weakly. The midwives returned and were taken aback, but Rhys told them to make the tea and give it to Carys. He explained what they were doing and bade one of the woman take Bronwynn’s place.
All this time, Annalise had knelt in prayer at the foot of the bed, her head bowed, her hand massaging her own swollen belly, probably without knowing it. His amber beads glowed around her neck. His heart jumped into his throat. He hadn’t paid attention to the changes in her slim body. Love and lust washed over him, despite his pain and exhaustion.
He limped to her side and placed Fleurie in her arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she beheld the child then looked at him. She swallowed hard and a sob escaped her lips. “I love you, Rhys. I was devastated that you might be dead and I hadn’t told you I love you. I know you can’t love me—that you chose me to save your brothers—but—”
“Annalise,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Since the day we left here weeks ago I’ve been consumed with only one thought—of returning to your embrace. As I lay in the crevice I kept thinking how stupid it was of me to die without your knowing how much I love you.”
Her mouth fell open and she gasped. “You love me? I’ve never known love before.”
“I’ll love and cherish you for the rest of my life, Annalise—but for the moment I must get the weight off this cursed leg. Come,
we’ll try to make the child suckle. That will help Carys.”
The midwife held the child to Carys’s breast, but she squirmed and balked, and had to be taken to the wet-nurse.
Rhys would have to ask more of his brother-by-marriage. “Baudoin, I’m going to speak to you man to man. You know as well as I what happens to a woman when you touch her breasts.”
His own arousal hardened as his glance strayed to his wife’s copious globes. She returned his gaze and smiled. The other women looked away, their faces red.
“You must do that for Carys now. Touch her breasts lovingly. She’ll know it’s you. It will help to contract the womb.”
Rhys felt privileged to witness the heart-wrenching tableau that played out before him. Annalise prayed. Baudoin poured out his love into his wife’s body with his touch, murmuring words of comfort to her about Fleurie and how beautiful she was. Carys’s body responded. The midwives and Bronwynn took turns massaging her belly. Time seemed to stand still as they strove to save the life of their beloved.
Bronwynn had been carrying away the soiled linens and suddenly she cried, “The bleeding has stopped.”
Baudoin gasped and kissed his wife’s forehead. Annalise looked up at Rhys, her tear-filled eyes full of love—for him. The wet-nurse returned with Fleurie. The midwife placed the child in Carys’s arms. By now she was more alert. Baudoin bent to whisper in her ear. “Carys, I’ve named our daughter Fleurie because she looks like a little flower.”
“Baudoin—” It was the first time they’d heard her voice since the ordeal began. “I feared I might die—thank you for saving me—for bringing me back.”
Baudoin stroked his babe’s head. “It’s your brother you should thank. If he hadn’t been here—you Welsh are a strange lot with your mystical beliefs and practices, but praise be to the saints that you have a brother conversant with the ways of women’s wombs!”
Rhys smiled. “Well, Carys is the only other person here with the same knowledge, and since she couldn’t help herself, my doing so only honours the memory of our mother. And now, I’m afraid I’m in sore need of some nursing myself. With your permission I’m going to take my lovely wife to our chambers and have her see to my needs.”
Baudoin left his wife’s bedside and strode over to Rhys and Annalise as they approached the door. He clasped Rhys by the hand and embraced him.
“Thank you, Rhys. I’ll never be able to repay you.”
***
Messengers were sent to Baudoin’s half-brother, Caedmon and his wife, Agneta. They came with their children. Rhun and Rhydderch rode to Ellesmere to meet their new niece, Fleurie de Montbryce. This delayed their return to Glain’s village.
Carys healed quickly and Baudoin doted on her. He, Gallien and Etienne spent many happy hours with her and the new baby. He marvelled how Etienne’s hands dwarfed Fleurie’s and yet his had seemed such small hands a few days ago.
When Carys suckled Fleurie the boys asked what she was doing, and she explained how they’d suckled at her breast when they were tiny. Gallien refused to believe it. Their parents smiled indulgently. The boys wanted to hold their baby sister. Baudoin sat them both firmly on a chair propped up with cushions and placed his daughter on their lap. He resolved to find an artist who could capture these precious moments for him forever.
Her red haired uncles cooed at their niece and generally made fools of themselves.
“You’ll frighten the poor child,” Rhys exclaimed. His leg was slow to mend. He told anyone who would listen that he was looking forward to the day when Carys deemed the bindings could be removed. His ribs caused only the occasional twinge now and again. He and Annalise perfected what he considered some very creative methods of accommodating his broken bones and her swelling belly when they made love.
EPILOGUE
Despite Baudoin’s worries, Carys gave birth to another daughter, Isabelle, without any complications at all.
Rhys became as well known and loved as his father before him, though for different reasons. The Welsh people honoured him for the improvements he wrought in their lives—roads and bridges—of stone and of peace.
Five of the children he and his beloved Annalise bore 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.
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Will Rhun and Rhydderch solve the dilemma of their feud over the lovely Glain? They’ve always shared everything...can they share a woman? The Winds of the Heavens.
How did the tradition of the amber beads begin? Defiant Passion is Rhodri and Rhonwen’s story. He was her destiny...
Who are the Montbryces? The year is 1066 and the world is about to change forever. Ram and Mabelle struggle to establish a dynasty amid the turbulent dangers of the Norman Conquest. Can the chauvinistic and ambitious Ram find love with the wilful refugee brought to his bed in an arranged marriage? Conquering Passion.
About the Author
Anna Markland is a Canadian author with a keen interest in genealogy. She writes medieval romance about family honour, ancestry and roots. Her novels are intimate love stories filled with passion and adventure. Following a fruitful career in teaching, Anna transformed her love of writing and history into engaging works of fiction. Prior to becoming a fiction author, she published numerous family histories. One of the things she enjoys most about writing historical romance is the in-depth research required to provide the reader with an authentic medieval experience.
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GLOSSARY
A complete glossary for Ms. Markland’s novels.
CP=Conquering Passion (Montbryce Legacy, Book I) © Anna Markland 2011
AMOV=A Man of Value (Montbryce Legacy, Book II) © Anna Markland 2011
ILDE=If Love Dares Enough (Montbryce Legacy, Book III) © Anna Markland 2012
PIB=Passion in the Blood (Montbryce Legacy, Book IV) © Anna Markland 2012
DP=Defiant Passion (Sons of Rhodri, Book I) © Anna Markland 2012
DB=Dark and Bright (Sons of Rhodri, Book II) © Anna Markland 2012
WTH=The Winds of the Heavens (Sons of Rhodri, Book III) © Anna Markland 2012
CA=Carried Away (FitzRam Family, Book I) © Anna Markland 2012
Abbaye aux Dames—An abbey for women built in Caen by William the Conqueror ILDE, PIB
Abbaye aux Hommes—An abbey for men built in Caen by William the Conqueror ILDE, PIB
Abbey—Agneta’s mare in AMOV
Abbot—Caedmon’s roan stallion in AMOV
Adam de Montbryce—Son of Antoine and Sybilla PIB
Adelaide—Daughter of King Henry I; married Holy Roman Emperor, Henry V CA
Aediva Melton—Sister of the Saxon heroine in ILDE
Agnes—Norman scullery maid at Domfort Castle in ILDE
Agneta Kirkthwaite—English Heroine of Danish and Saxon descent in AMOV
Aidan Branton FitzRam—Son of Caedmon and Agneta, twin of Blythe; named for Agneta’s brothers who were slain at Bolton. AMOV, CA
Alexandre de Mont
bryce—Eldest son of Robert and Dorianne. Heir to the title Comte de Montbryce. Born in Caen during his father’s incarceration PIB
Alnwick—Located in Northumbria. Site of a battle in 1093 between Roger de Mowbray, Earl of Northumbria, and Malcolm, King of Scotland. Malcolm and his son were killed. Agneta rescues Caedmon from the battlefield and tends his injuries. AMOV
Andras ap Rhys—Welshman—Friend and comrade of Rhodri ap Owain in CP and DP
Aneurin ap Norweg—Welshman—Friend and comrade of Rhodri ap Owain in CP and DP
Angeline Hugo—Norman peasant, rape victim of Arnulf de Valtesse CP
Anjou—Geographic area of France south of Normandy. Its people are called Angevins. Normans and Angevins were traditional enemies. ILDE
Anna—Dieter’s housekeeper, CA
Annalise de Vymont—Heroine of DB. Niece of the Earl of Chester.
Antoine de Montbryce—Norman hero of ILDE; brother of Rambaud and Hugh
ap Owain—Welsh patronymic—son of Owain
Arnulf de Valtesse—Norman half brother of Mabelle de Montbryce, heroine of CP. Bastard son of Guillaume de Valtesse. Murdered in CP by Simon Hugo
Ascha (Bronson) Woolgar—Saxon mother of Caedmon; in CP and AMOV
Barat Cormant—Norman steward brought to England by the Montbryces for Sussex properties; ILDE; son of Michel, brother of Théo.
Baudoin de Montbryce—Norman born in England; second son of Ram and Mabelle de Montbryce; becomes 2nd Earl of Ellesmere; marries Carys verch Rhodri; appears in CP, AMOV, DP and PIB.
Bemia Melton—Saxon sister of heroine of ILDE
Bernard Chauvelin—Norman soldier at Montbryce Castle PIB
Bernard de Montbryce—Father of Ram, Antoine and Hugh. Dies in 1066 while his sons are fighting in England.
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