Montbryce Next Generation 01 - Dark Irish Knight Read Online Free

resumed their progress to the cloister. Suddenly the Countess of Ellesmere stood directly in front of him, her palm pressed to her breast, mouth agape.
     
    For a brief moment, Mabelle was back in the Great Hall of Cadair Berwyn, forcing down the fear in her throat as she faced her captor for the first time.
    Before her in the cloister stood Rhodri ap Owain, the man responsible for months of captivity and the near decapitation of her son. Rhoni had been born in the wilds of Wales because of him. Her husband’s indiscretion with Lady Ascha Woolgar had come about because of his injury at Rhodri’s hand.
    The Welsh prince looked as muscular and menacing as he did then, though the war braids were gone. The grey streaks in his thick hair made him seem even more distinguished. There were thousands of reasons why she should hate him, but it was simply good to see him! The years melted away.
    She held out her hand and smiled. “Prince Rhodri, you look well!”
    Rhodri bowed to kiss her hand. “My lady Countess, you are as beautiful now as you were then.”
    Rhonwen linked her arm in Rhodri’s, beaming. Mabelle had known in her heart that the two were destined for each other, as Rhodri had known it. She had always been glad she had persuaded Rhonwen to return to him.
    Myfanwy and Rhoni entered the cloister. Mabelle took her daughter’s hand. “Rhoni, may I present to you Lord Rhodri ap Owain, Prince of Powwydd.”
    Rhodri enfolded Rhoni’s hand with both of his. “You are Hylda Rhonwen de Montbryce, the tiny babe born in my fortress at Cadair Berwyn.”
    Rhoni grinned. “I am, my lord Prince. Rwy’n Cymraes !”
    Rhodri laughed heartily. “You are indeed a Welsh woman. Someone has been teaching you.”
    Rhoni blushed. “I deemed it important to learn the language of the land of my birth.”
    Mabelle was pleasantly surprised by the serious tone of her daughter’s statement. Rhoni had long boasted about being born in Wales, but Mabelle had thought it an affectation. She was further surprised when they carried on their conversation in Welsh.
    She turned to Rhonwen. “Have your other children arrived?”
    Rhonwen took her hand. “Yes, they came with Rhodri. They await us in the Refectory. First, I’ll show you to the cell the nuns have prepared for you. It’s not very grand I’m afraid.”
    Mabelle squeezed her friend’s hand. This gentle woman had come into her employ as a healer and was now married to the Prince of Powwydd. “Lead on, I did not expect a cell of my own.”
    She bent to whisper in Rhonwen’s ear. “I trust I am not sharing with Rhoni?”
    Rhonwen whispered back, a conspiratorial grin on her face. “No, she is with Carys.”
     
    On the morrow, Mabelle and Rhonwen could not hold back tears during the ceremony to install Myfanwy as Prioress. Rhoni noticed Rhodri rubbing his eyes. He would probably blame it on the clouds of incense.
    Carys grinned, Rhys smiled and Rhun and Rhydderch scowled at the Normans every chance they got. They were comical with their wild red hair and rude glances. Rhoni ignored them.
    The thirty or so nuns chanted as they processed up the narrow aisle of the tiny chapel, led by an elderly woman with the sourest face Rhoni had ever seen. She turned to Carys and grimaced, crossing her eyes.
    Carys pressed a knuckle to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Myfanwy will have her hands full with that one. Sister Aiweeda believes she should have been Prioress. Can you imagine!”
    All is not well in paradise!
    Smiling angelically, Myfanwy Mabelle walked at the end of the line with the Bishop.
    The rite went smoothly, except for the ill-concealed resentment of Sister Aiweeda when the bishop displayed the Papal Bull confirming Myfanwy’s appointment.
    Arrangements had been made to celebrate the momentous occasion with an excursion to the nearby sea coast at Prestetone. The younger nuns were atwitter with excitement at the prospect as they climbed into the carts waiting to transport them to