Ria Cantrell - Celtic Storm 03 Read Online Free Page A

She would still not marry him.
    Passing Andarra in a swirl of her skirts and with ire forcing her to react sharply, Rhianna stormed up to the battlements, where the captain of the du Montefort forces was stationed with the guards changing shift.
    “Tristan, may I have a word with you?”
    “Of course, m’lady. What may I do for you?”
    “It would seem the king has decided to arrange for my betrothal.”
    “That is wonderful news m’lady.”
    “Nay, it is not. I have no intention of marrying the odious lout who merely wants my lands and holdings. Therefore, I fully intend to make this fine suitor understand he has no place here at du Montefort Keep. I want you to double the guards and upon his approach, make him know he is most unwelcomed in our home. Am I understood?”
    Tristan nodded, but he did not think he agreed with the young mistress of the keep.
    “My lady, you know I am ever at your service but.…”
    “But what? If you are loyal to du Montefort, there is no question as to what is to be done. This usurper is not going to get my lands without a fight. At the very least, I would think your guards can send him a clear message that we are not a force to trifle with.”
    Tristan nodded sadly and his shaggy brows were knitted in dismay.
    “My lady, I have ever served your father and then your brother thereafter. I would serve you as well and never question your wisdom, but what you are asking me to do is to wage war on one of the king’s knights, which is as good as waging war on the king himself. The king will take it as an act of treason.”
    Rhianna frowned. She truly had not thought of that, but she was not going to just open her gates to the man who would insinuate himself into her home and for that matter, between her thighs! Rhianna was not usually prone to such rash and sour moods, but she was furious at the turn of events that would change not only her world but the world of her people in the course of a day. Stiffening her spine in defiance, Rhianna icily addressed the steward.
    “Tristan, then we are to bar the doors and refuse them entry. If they forcibly try to gain entry, then I authorize our bowmen to take aim. I know nothing about this man. I will not have my people suffer his dominance over them. He is one of those cursed Vikings and is no doubt, used to crushing people who defy him. He will learn that this demesne thrives because our villagers are treated well.”
    With head bowed and eyes lowered, Tristan said quietly, “Alright, my lady. I am your man.”
    Tristan was not used to seeing the mistress of the keep so upset. She was not usually a headstrong girl, but he was not sure she was thinking rationally this time. In truth, he did not want to go against the king, but his back was up against a wall. He was loyal to Rhianna and if that meant fighting the king’s man, Tristan reluctantly would oblige. He could not voice his thoughts that the local villagers would more than suffer because of Rhianna’s actions. The wrath of the king was not something Tristan wanted to bring down on the heads of his people. He found it hard to cross Rhianna, who was the daughter of his liege. It was true, his master had been dead a long time, but he had vowed to protect the daughter of the man he respected and sworn fealty to. He glanced at Rhianna. She had grown into a beautiful, independent and courageous woman. It was time she wed and settled down; more than time. Why, any man would be lucky to wed her. Tristan had watched her grow up without the guidance of her parents. She had blossomed despite the tragedy that had nearly destroyed her young heart. Rhianna had not let the ever present pain of so dear a loss bring her to her knees. Instead, she rallied to the cause, taking on the role of Mistress of du Montefort Keep. She had been a Godsend to the locals as she brought healing and help to all who had need of her. She had studied the properties of the plants and herbs and was often called to help a sick