Elinor’s Stronghold 2
Defending Rhyannon’s Inheritance
Hated and incompetent Lord Jeffrey wants to marry Rhyannon, and her bad-tempered cousin, Coll, wants to steal her jewels. She needs a good protector.
Alistair has loved her faithfully for years, but he has no assets and can’t support them both. Lord Devon is a suitable husband, but does he even like Rhyannon? It’s a big challenge, but maybe together Alistair and Lord Devon can protect her and her jewels from Lord Jeffrey and Cousin Coll.
Meanwhile, winter is settling on the stronghold and Lord Jeffrey is attacking the people once again. And Cousin Coll is determined to get her jewels any way he can. Surviving the winter is hard enough to do without all these other things happening as well. Everyone in the stronghold is living on a knife edge. Alistair and Lord Devon focus on Rhyannon. They’ll love her and protect her—and each other as well.
Note: This book contains double vaginal penetration.
Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 20,595 words
DEFENDING RHYANNON’S INHERITANCE
Elinor’s Stronghold 2
Berengaria Brown
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
DEFENDING RHYANNON’S INHERITANCE
Copyright © 2012 by Berengaria Brown
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-698-8
First E-book Publication: June 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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DEDICATION
For Nevil Shute, who demonstrated so well that ordinary men make superb heroes.
AUTHOR NOTE
Although this story is set in a medieval-type environment, it is not true historical fiction, and the land and time where the story takes place exists only in the pages of this series.
DEFENDING RHYANNON’S INHERITANCE
Elinor’s Stronghold 2
BERENGARIA BROWN
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Rhyannon was sitting cross-legged on the ground with Father Augustus and two serious young boys, practicing their writing by drawing with a stick in the dirt. At first, she’d decided to learn to read and write because it would give her great status. Few women could do either, just one or two nuns in large convents, and probably barely a handful of ladies at Court. With no land, no father to protect her, and only a box of jewels that had belonged to her mother, Rhyannon didn’t have a lot to bring to a marriage. Once she could read and write, her status would increase dramatically.
At first, she’d been worried the two children would understand everything much faster than her and make her look stupid for even attempting such a challenging task. She’d been determined to work her hardest to learn. Fortunately, she’d proven no slower than the boys at learning the letters and better than either of them at drawing them. She credited sewing for teaching her the skill to make the stick go where her eye directed it. Really, writing was similar to sewing embroidery or tapestry, only with the shapes being formed into letters instead of pictures.
Hastily, Rhyannon concentrated. Father Augustus was about to ask another question. Some of the words were very difficult to remember. The same four letters, rearranged in a changed order, could have a very different meaning. Some words logically developed from the same few letters, but with others, if there was a design behind them, she had not yet perceived it and simply had to memorize the letters in the correct order.
The first lesson they’d written was the Lord’s Prayer. It was a good beginning because they all knew what the words sounded like, having repeated it in church every Sunday of their lives. To see the words come alive in the dirt as Father Augustus wrote them was breathtaking and inspired Rhyannon with the desire to learn everything she could.
But today they were learning formal greetings to be used in a letter. Something essential to know, but much less exciting. Nevertheless, Rhyannon bent her head and practiced the words and shapes until she was sure she would remember them.
In some ways, Rhyannon was glad her father had not married her to anyone before he died. He’d been so focused on finding wives for himself, he’d had no energy left to search out an appropriate husband for her. Rhyannon’s mother had been Lord Bennet’s first wife. Rhyannon was their only child, and her mother had died when she was five. A year later, her father had married again. Lord Bennet had blamed his second wife for not conceiving a child, and at the time, Rhyannon had been much too young to understand anything other than that her father was always yelling at her new mother and sometimes hit her.
By the time her stepmother died, Rhyannon was old enough to see the pattern as her father married a third wife and, when she died, a fourth one. None of them ever had a child, and all of them seemed to grow thin, pale, sad, and to disappear into themselves when Lord Bennet was around. His temper w
as short, and he tended to hit people who didn’t get out of his way fast enough. He was negotiating for yet another bride when he caught a fever and died.
Lord Bennet’s older brother’s son had inherited his lands and properties, and Coll had crudely told Rhyannon he now owned everything, and she could marry him or leave.
Rhyannon had taken a long, hard look at her Cousin Coll, who was at least twenty years older than her and who reminded her a lot of her father. She’d loaded her storage chest of possessions onto the back of a mule, mounted her horse, and announced her intention to live with her Cousin Rhys. Lord Rhys was her mother’s brother’s son and lived a week’s ride from them.
Alistair had reminded everyone his liege-ship was to Bennet, not to Coll, and had accompanied her, as had one of the soldiers, Ebert. The three of them traveled to the valley, only to discover Lord Rhys’s demesne had been won in battle by Lord Jeffrey, but her cousin and his household now lived at the castle, as he’d married Lady Elinor.
Fortunately, Lord Rhys had recognized her instantly, and he and Lady Elinor had welcomed her into their stronghold. But the fact remained, apart from the little box of jewelry left her by her mother, Rhyannon had nothing.
She did have a secret. She loved Alistair with a passion and wanted to marry him even though he was not a lord. Alistair was a soldier and firstborn son of Lord Alistair of Green Mountain. But he was illegitimate, therefore no fit match for a lady. Besides, he had no property either, so he had to serve a lord, and she would have to marry one.
* * * *
At midmorning, the children on watch raced to tell the household that a man on a horse with a white banner, accompanied by six other men on horseback, approached.
Hammond, the Captain of the Guard, and Lord Rhys ran to the battlements to see for themselves.
“A white banner means peace,” said Hammond.
“You trust seven armed men to come in peace?” scoffed Lord Rhys.
“The man with the white banner is Lord Jeffrey,” announced a small girl.
“God’s blood, don’t say such things,” swore Albin, second in command of the soldiers.
“It is,” the child insisted.
Men began arguing, but Lord Rhys held up his hand for silence.
“Nerida, tell me how you know.”
“See how his horse has four black feet and yet a white tail?”
“Another man may ride the horse,” retorted Albin.
“Note then, how his helmet is dented just above his left ear,” the child replied challengingly.
“She is correct,” said Wade, a man with only one hand. “You have learned your lessons well, Nerida. Now that you say it, I remember that about his helmet, and a man’s helmet may not fit another man. There is one more thing also, is there not,” he added encouragingly.
“He doesn’t sit straight upon his horse, but leans a little to the left,” Nerida replied.
Another child spoke. “Now that he is closer, I agree with Nerida. And two of the other horsemen are soldiers we’ve seen before as well. One of them came with Lord Devon to the tourney, and the other rode to Lord Jeffrey’s right when he attacked the castle.”
“All you children have done well, but now you must go back to the keep. No one is to be in the courtyard except for soldiers and guards. Tell everyone,” ordered Lord Rhys.
The children nodded and ran off, eager to share their messages and proud of their ability to see things first, before the soldiers.
“I still think it’s a trap,” said Hammond.
“We will plan for that situation, but hope he does come in peace. What could he want with us? It’s not yet winter, so surely he doesn’t want to buy food. He could simply send his men out hunting.”
They watched as the soldiers approached. Lord Jeffrey stopped a little distance from the gate.
“I wish to talk to Lord Rhys, noble to noble,” he called out.
“What topic do you wish to discuss,” replied Lord Rhys.
“I am here to offer for the hand of the Lady Rhyannon in marriage. My home needs a chatelaine, and my estate needs heirs. She is young and comely, well-born, and a suitable match for me.”
“Very well, we’ll talk, but your men must leave their swords at the gate,” replied Lord Rhys.
“I accept.”
Hammond began muttering to the guards about their duties, and Lord Rhys turned to Wade. “Send for Father Augustus. He, Lady Elinor, Lady Rhyannon, and Aunt Heloise will join Lord Jeffrey and myself at the high table to discuss this. Ensure there are refreshments for the guards, but no strong ale.”
By the time Lord Rhys, Lord Jeffrey, and Hammond marched into the great hall, Father Augustus and Aunt Heloise were standing by the fire with the ladies Elinor and Rhyannon. Rhys hid a smile when he noticed Elinor was wearing her pretty blue gown, which she certainly hadn’t been doing half an hour ago. Rhyannon had a ribbon tied to her braid and a gold bracelet on her wrist. The ladies were taking this meeting seriously then, even though they didn’t know the topic under discussion.
Byram, the steward, brought in goblets of the best mead, and they all drank, and then Lord Rhys sat them all around the high table and said, “Lord Jeffrey, you are our guest. Please tell us your proposal.”
Lord Jeffrey waved at Byram for more mead then said exactly what he’d said before, almost as if it was a speech he’d learned by heart. “I am here to offer for the hand of the Lady Rhyannon in marriage. My home needs a chatelaine, and my estate needs heirs. She is young and comely, well-born, and a suitable match for me.”
“And what do you offer the Lady Rhyannon in return?”
Lord Jeffrey seemed a little surprised and thought for several heartbeats, running his hand over his chin. “I am landed now, with a fair estate. I’m young and healthy, a noble, a fitting husband for the lady.”
“Lady Rhyannon can tell her genealogy for four generations, all of them noble. What of you, Lord Jeffrey?” asked Father Augustus.
Rhys knew this was a trick question as Lord Jeffrey’s father had been knighted on the battlefield, which was why Lord Jeffrey himself, a second son, had been obliged to fight for land of his own.
“I spent three years at Court. I’m trained in all the knightly skills both as a warrior and as a noble. I’m young and strong. The Lady Rhyannon need not fear for her person or possessions once she marries me.”
Rhys tried hard to draw Lord Jeffrey out, to get to know the man behind the façade, but it was almost as if he had learned lines as a child recites a message, and there was no depth, no meaning, no person, behind the statements. It worried Rhys because it could only mean the man was hiding something important. That or he was a lackwit, and he most certainly hadn’t fought as a lackwit fights when he’d won Rhys’s demesne from him.
But what was he hiding? What was his real purpose? Did it have anything to do with the Lady Rhyannon at all, or was Lord Jeffrey plotting to steal the castle from them? And what made him stay at Court for three years? That was a very long time. Few people stayed longer than three or four months, unless they were in service to the King himself. But if he’d been serving the King, why wouldn’t he have boasted of it just now? God’s teeth, this is a tangle! He’s not marrying Rhyannon though, even if I have to let her marry Alistair tonight!
“I need to speak with my household first, and with the Lady Rhyannon herself. I will visit your demesne at noon tomorrow with my reply,” Rhys said.
Fortunately, Lord Jeffrey accepted that response. He’d evidently prepared himself not to receive an immediate yes or no.
Lord Rhys and his men accompanied Lord Jeffrey and his men to the gate then watched until they’d disappeared over the hill.
“Double the guards, and use our best lookouts,” snapped Hammond, hurrying up to the battlements.
“Ask Lord Devon to join Father Augustus and me as fast as he can. Then take over from Hammond and send him to me, too,” Rhys ordered Albin.
Rhys hurried back into the great hall the
n forced himself to walk slowly and breathe deeply so neither Elinor nor Rhyannon would be able to tell how confused and unsettled he felt.
“Rhyannon, tell me truly, do you wish to marry Lord Jeffrey? He is noble as he said, and the land is good. It’s a comfortable living, and he’s not old, nor does he dribble in his beard like your Cousin Coll.” Rhys tried to inject some humor into his question, but he noticed Elinor’s hazel gaze burning into his face. He may have hidden his feelings from his cousin, but his lady wife knew all was not well with him.
“I neither like Lord Jeffrey, nor trust him. It was almost as if he was acting a part, not as if he was being himself. He doesn’t care at all about me, or even particularly want me for myself. Rhys, it’s Alistair I love. I know he’s illegitimate and landless, but I still love him.”
Rhys felt as if he’d received a blow to the chest while jousting. She knew Alistair was illegitimate. He’d told her. Such a thing should never be mentioned to a lady, never spoken of out loud. All the more reason why he needed to talk with Lord Devon as soon as possible.
“Please go with Aunt Heloise to the solar, and stay there until Lady Elinor joins you. There are difficult decisions to be made here. Whatever path I take may lead the stronghold into disaster.”
Tears filled Rhyannon’s big, brown eyes. “Rhys, cousin, I would not have the stronghold and the people here harmed. I’ll go to a convent tonight, if you send some guards to escort me. I would much rather live there than with either Lord Jeffrey or my Cousin Coll. My mother’s jewelry will be dowry enough, I’m sure. I am noble after all, and I’m learning to read and write. I could be useful to the lady abbess.”
Defending Rhyannon's Inheritance [Elinor's Stronghold 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 1