His Rebel Bride (Brothers in Arms Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

warn Flynn. We’ll not be invaded by the English again, particularly not one who thinks overmuch of himself and has a penchant with the ladies.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Whistling a merry tune, Kieran guided his horse toward the bog. Aye, mayhap life at Langmore Castle would not be as disagreeable as he had once thought. The lovely peasant Maeve would be a most pleasing diversion after he had chosen a wife from among the four long-toothed O’Shea sisters.
    All in all, he was glad both that he had been a tad lost and that he’d worn one of his best tunics. He was not usually one for much decoration, but in this case, he suspected the gold braiding and rich fabric had been worth the extra expense.
    Sighing, he urged his mount up a hill, searching for the path. When he found none, he descended into the valley below, hooves skimming through the cold stream. Bogbean grew up from the soil beneath the water, crowned with tiny white blossoms. And the gentle trickle of water over mossy rock somehow soothed him, despite his upcoming task.
    Odd, he could still find no path, despite the fact that Langmore’s visitors had used this for nearly a year. He frowned. Mayhap the castle received few visitors.
    Shrugging, he pressed on, making a path of his own. Of a sudden, the water began swirling higher and higher, until it nearly reached his horse’s chest. Lancelot neighed in protest, whether from the cold or rising water, Kieran knew not.
    But the stubborn animal made one thing very clear: he would not take another step.
    Heaving an angry sigh, Kieran dismounted. A February day had turned the water to something scant warmer than freezing. It rushed about his waist, sank into his boots, and thoroughly soaked his hose and braies.
    “Addle-pated beast!”
    If the animal heard his curse, he cared not. Instead, he stared at the water, eyes wide, and shook his long head in agitation.
    “Stubborn horse,” he said again through gritted teeth as he began to lead Lancelot forward.
    After a moment’s hesitation, the stallion took a ginger step toward the opposite bank. Kieran damned the cold water and wondered if his feet would see the land upon yon bank before he froze to death.
    They took another step forward, and the water rushed up around Kieran’s chest, dousing his emerald tunic. “Ballocks!”
    Though he had no real wish to meet the O’Shea wenches, he wanted to do so looking every inch their lord. He would be hard-pressed to appear an authority whilst looking like a rat half drowned in a vat of ale.
    Cursing again, Kieran bolted around the horse from side to front, certain he would persuade the beast to move on before his teeth chattered any more.
    He stepped on a rock hidden beneath the water, slick with slippery moss.
    Before he could catch his balance, he fell beneath the water’s surface, the icy river closing over his head, sluicing down the skin of his back. His buttocks landed squarely on the offending rock with a jarring thud.
    “Damnation!”
    Kieran moved to rise, but Lancelot pranced nervously around him, rearing up. He saw the beast’s hooves looming above his midsection and tried to roll out of the way, but the horse was faster. Closer those hooves came to his stomach—and lower.
    “Nay!” he shouted, his voice echoing in his ears.
    Scrambling away from the descending hooves, Kieran felt alarm tear through him. He had little time to ponder the fact that he was about to become a eunuch, courtesy of a four-legged beast.
    He stared at the horse in horror.
    The animal’s foot landed just between his thighs, a safe enough distance away from harming the part that made him male.
    Kieran sighed, relief thick in his blood. His mind slowed with it, registered that he was unharmed.
    With that came anger.
    He came out of the water, sputtering curses.
    “You old codswallop!” he shouted, staring into the stallion’s face.
    In response, Lancelot lowered his head for a drink, thoroughly ignoring Kieran’s dressing down.
    Which