Her Irish Warrior by Michelle Willingham (best novels of all time .txt) 📕

Bevan’s hand went automatically to his sword, but it was not there, as the King would not allow weapons in his presence. His fists curled, fury rising. Knowing that Hugh had struck Genevieve, hurt her, made him long to sheathe his blade in the knight’s heart.

‘Kidnapping is a punishable crime,’ Henry said.

‘I am not subject to your laws,’ Bevan responded.

The Norman King’s face darkened with anger. Rory Ó Connor intervened. ‘But you are subject to the laws of your king and to the laws of our land.’ With a nod towards Henry, Ó Connor continued. ‘We will find a solution to satisfy both parties.’

It was then that the chief poet Ailfred spoke up. ‘The penalty for abduction must be made. You may pay the cumals to Sir Hugh Marstowe, her betrothed.’

‘She came willingly,’ Bevan argued. ‘And she suffered beatings from Sir Hugh. He must pay restitution for his crimes against her.’

‘If she came of her own free will, then you must pay to her family her body price and her honour price,’ Ailfred said.

Bevan sensed where the conversation was heading. ‘I want my property returned to me,’ Bevan said, barely keeping his temper in check. ‘The Lady Genevieve has asked to return to her parents. She awaits them at my brother’s fortress.’

Ó Connor directed his gaze to Henry, and the King’s expression tightened. ‘It seems that our Irish warrior refuses to compromise,’ Henry remarked. ‘Since he is unwilling to pay the penalties, we should simply remove the Lady Genevieve from his custody. And we would not advise returning Rionallís to him, since he has already shown himself incapable of defending it.’

Bevan took a sip of the wine, his hand gripping the goblet so hard the metal bent. Hugh sent Bevan a slow, knowing smile. Bevan returned it with a hardened gaze.

The fermented beverage did naught to appease his anger. A knot coiled in his stomach at the thought of Marstowe possessing his home. Worse was the prospect of Genevieve falling beneath Marstowe’s fists. If he did nothing to prevent it, he would be responsible for any harm that befell her.

The invisible noose of duty tightened about his throat. He had no choice but to offer for her.

‘What if Lady Genevieve wed me instead?’ Bevan asked softly.

‘If she were to become your bride, then Rionallís would be returned to you,’ Ailfred admitted. ‘This could be a fitting solution. Though you would still owe a fine to her family, and to Marstowe.’

‘Her father would never permit such an alliance,’ the Norman King argued.

If it meant recapturing Rionallís and keeping Genevieve out of Marstowe’s grasp, Bevan would do it, despite his misgivings.

‘Bring Lady Genevieve to Tara,’ Bevan suggested. ‘And let her choose between Marstowe and myself. Whomsoever she chooses shall have Rionallís.’

The High King turned to King Henry. ‘Would this be a suitable compromise?’

Henry shook his head. ‘The Earl of Longford has the right to choose a husband for his daughter. But we have no objection to either suitor, so long as the Earl grants his consent.’ With a nod towards Bevan, he added, ‘If her father agrees, she may choose her husband. But MacEgan must pay restitution for his actions. His fines must be heavy for attacking the fortress and kidnapping the Earl’s daughter.’

Sir Hugh looked displeased, but to Bevan’s surprise he voiced no objection. ‘She may choose.’

Bevan was immediately suspicious. Surely Marstowe knew Genevieve would never choose him? His quick agreement made Bevan grow cautious.

Everything about the man made Bevan tense. His richly-embroidered clothes, the golden hair, and the way he sent a mocking smile towards the women of Henry’s court—it made Bevan all the more determined to keep Genevieve away from him.

‘MacEgan,’ Sir Hugh said, by way of greeting, ‘I shall look forward to emptying your coffers.’

Bevan’s eyes burned with fury as he met Marstowe’s gaze. ‘And I look forward to the day my sword will end your life.’

Hugh folded his arms across his chest. Beneath his breath, he murmured, ‘Do you really believe I will allow you to take her from me?’

Bevan stepped forward, using his height to look down upon Hugh.

Anger flashed across the knight’s face, but Hugh centred his attention upon the King, bowing. ‘I propose another alternative, Your Majesty. I would challenge this Irishman to face my sword.’

‘And I would accept that challenge,’ Bevan replied, watching the man as though he were a deadly serpent.

‘Stand down, Sir Hugh,’ King Henry said. ‘The matter is yet to be settled.’ The King sent a nod towards a group of soldiers, and two stepped forward to prevent the fight. Bevan did not struggle against the guards, but he kept his attention fixed upon Marstowe.

‘We have already passed judgement, Sir Hugh,’ the King said. ‘You will respect it, as a loyal subject of the crown.’

The warning was clear. To defy the King meant treason. With great reluctance, Marstowe stepped back. Bevan never took his gaze off his enemy.

Ó Connor turned to Henry. ‘Inform the Earl of Longford to join us.’

‘He is here now?’ Bevan questioned.

‘Tá,’ the High King replied. ‘He has come at your brother Patrick’s bequest.’

King Henry signalled a servant, who exited the chamber. Within moments the man returned with Lord Thomas de Renalt, the Earl of Longford.

The Earl was a sturdy man, with greying hair and a beard. Although he stood a full head shorter than Bevan, there was no denying the man’s strength, nor the corded muscles in his forearms.

Bevan took a measure of satisfaction as the colour drained from Marstowe’s face. Hugh bowed to Genevieve’s father while Bevan remained standing.

‘Your Majesty,’ Longford greeted the King. He bowed before his gaze fell upon Sir Hugh. Bevan sensed a bridled fury towards the knight.

‘An agreement has been made,’ King Henry informed the Earl. ‘We have granted your daughter the right to decide between Sir Hugh Marstowe and Bevan MacEgan for a husband. The disputed property rights to Rionallís will go to the man she chooses.’ The King smiled, his