Haunted Knights (Montbryce~The Next Generation Historical Romance) Read Online Free Page A

the long ago events.
    For Agnès too the daily diatribe was a penance she deserved for the part she had played in the unjust imprisonment of two young women. She prayed for God’s mercy on her soul as she coaxed her mistress to dress.
    ~~~
    Rosamunda threw her arms around her brother’s neck, then pummeled his chest with her fists.
    “She’s annoyed because you promised to come two days ago,” Paulina explained.
    Lucien suffered the blows with good humour. He shielded his chest, laughing. “Ouch! What a warrior my sister is!”
    Rosamunda pushed him away, her face flushing to the roots of her tangled hair. “Why did you not come?” she mouthed, trying to see what he had behind his back. “Rosemary?”
    Lucien produced the sprigs, waving them under her nose. “You and your rosemary baths. Little did I know the first time I brought it, you would insist on a regular supply.”
    Rosamunda grabbed the herb, rubbing a sprig or two between her thumb and forefinger. She rolled her eyes as she inhaled the aroma.
    Paulina explained. “She likes the way it perfumes the bath water and the scent it leaves in her hair. Thomas will only haul hot water up here once a sennight.”
    Lucien picked up Rosamunda, tickling her ribs as he twirled. She giggled breathlessly, then insisted he put her down and tickle her sister. Paulina would never ask, but Rosamunda knew she loved her brothers’ good natured teasing.
    It rankled that Paulina believed she had no place in the world, no right to a voice because she was tiny. Her sister squirmed in Lucien’s arms, pretending not to be enjoying the fun.
    Lucien bent to plant a kiss atop Paulina’s head. “Vincent and I have been away, renewing our acquaintance with Melton de Montbryce.”
    “What of his brother, Izzy?” Paulina asked.
    Rosamunda bit into her knuckles. The mention of the name brought on the urge to giggle.
    Lucien shrugged as Vincent entered the chamber with a fistful of roses. “Izzy stayed home in Domfort. He still suffers greatly from l’arthrite in his hands.”
    Vincent twisted one hand grotesquely, sticking out his tongue as he presented the roses to Paulina. “I managed to filch these from the garden without Maman knowing of it. She’d have my head.”
    Paulina beamed. Roses were guaranteed to draw out her beautiful smile. Ironically, Rosamunda had been named for the prickly shrub.
    Rosamunda clasped her hands together, the edges of her mouth turned down in a gesture of sympathy for this unknown warrior with the painful affliction.
    Paulina savoured the roses’ perfume and voiced her sister’s thoughts, as often happened between them. “How does he hold a sword?”
    Lucien frowned. “With great difficulty, I think. His hands were gnarled the last I saw him and Melton says it is getting worse.”
    Rosamunda took each brother by the hand and drew them to the comfortable upholstered chairs by the hearth. It was a ritual they understood. She wanted to hear about their travels.
    “Melton is well,” Vincent began.
    Rosamunda put a hand on his arm and touched her face and hair, arching her brows.
    Lucien chuckled. “Melton? He’s a handsome fellow. All the Montbryces are. He’s tall, strong looking, and has long dark hair.”
    Rosamunda pointed to her eyes.
    Vincent shrugged. “Not sure. Blue, perhaps. What say you brother?”
    “No idea!” Lucien replied. “I don’t pay attention to such things.”
    Rosamunda sighed with exasperation. Eye colour revealed a lot. Resignation darkened her sister’s warm brown eyes. When her brothers told of their adventures, their blue eyes lit up a room like the summer sky.
    The green of her own eyes deepened when she peered into the looking glass and ran her hands over her breasts.
    Lately she had been troubled with wanton urges to touch forbidden places on her body. Her thoughts and dreams wandered to images of handsome young knights, all bearing the face she had conjured many years ago from what she knew of the heroic