Her Irish Warrior Michelle Willingham (i read books .TXT) 📖

but before she did she cast one look back at Bevan. She could not forget the look of determination on his face when she’d refused to relinquish Rionallís. How could she trust a man who wanted to conquer the land that was hers? But her fear of Hugh was stronger, and so she had little choice.

She did not feel safe here, not yet. Despite all the soldiers, and the proud Irish warrior who had sworn to protect her, she could not let down her guard. Her heart heavy, she accompanied Ewan inside the donjon.

Bevan strode in the direction of the donjon, greeting friends as he passed. He located Patrick, commanding a group of soldiers.

‘You brought the woman, I see.’ Patrick dismissed the men, greeting his brother with a nod.

‘I told Ewan to find a place for her. She wishes to send word to her family, to return to England.’

‘Why do you not escort her yourself to Dun Laoghaire?’

Patrick’s query revived the anger he felt towards Genevieve. After her admonition that she did not believe him capable of protecting her, his first instinct had been to cast her out, to let her fend for herself against Marstowe. Or he could prove himself capable by escorting her to Dun Laoghaire, despite her desire to await her family.

Her doubts hardened his resolve to wash his hands of her. Let her remain here. Let her family come for her. She was no longer his responsibility, and his debt to her was paid.

‘I intend to renew the attack upon Rionallís,’ he said. ‘Keeping the woman here may prove to our advantage.’

‘You may be accused of kidnapping her,’ Patrick pointed out. ‘Their King Henry will demand compensation.’

‘Henry will not risk warring against us. He’s better off having us as allies.’

‘The Norman armies have already invaded Meath and Breifne. Henry will set his sights on Laochre next, should you draw his wrath upon us.’ Patrick met his gaze, and then he revealed what Bevan had already suspected. ‘Your men did not return from Rionallís. If they are not already dead, Sir Hugh Marstowe holds them captive. He may try to use them against us.’

‘If you grant me more fighters, I can free them.’ Bevan would not rest until he had atoned for his defeat. He hated the thought of his men in Marstowe’s custody.

‘You are needed here,’ Patrick said. ‘I will send Connor to free them. The Norman King is visiting Tara, holding court there with the High King. It may be that we can work out an agreement to avoid war between our people.’

‘What kind of agreement?’

Patrick changed his tack, not answering Bevan’s question. ‘Or we could exchange the lives of our men for Genevieve. You could return her to Rionallís and not trouble yourself with her further.’

‘She was beaten, Patrick. If I’d left her there, Marstowe would have killed her eventually.’

Patrick sobered, and accepted a goblet of wine from a servant. He handed another to Bevan. ‘And that is why you took her with you?’

‘Tá. The bastard hurt her, far worse than you can imagine. If any man had laid a hand on Isabel, you’d have done the same.’

The words came out before he’d intended them. He had never thought to compare his feelings towards Genevieve to the feelings Patrick had for his wife. He wanted to protect her; that was all. And he didn’t like seeing any woman in pain.

‘Have a care, brother,’ Patrick said. ‘I’ve no wish for you to lose your life over a woman.’

‘You needn’t worry that I would ever let a woman interfere with my life.’ Especially not one who stubbornly clung to the belief that Rionallís belonged to her family. It irritated him to think that Genevieve would continue to fight him for the land he had owned for years.

Bevan added, ‘I will free the men, regardless of how long it takes. Rionallís will be ours again.’

‘That may be,’ Patrick acceded. ‘Or the Norman King may agree to my offer of an exchange without bloodshed. I believe the prospect will please him. A bond between our family and Genevieve’s.’

Bevan suddenly understood his brother’s reasoning: an arranged marriage. ‘No.’

‘You are a fool if you believe Rionallís is yours for the taking. The Norman King will only send more of his men to recapture the land,’ Patrick said. ‘And our men are likely already dead. If you hope to keep the fortress, your only recourse is to wed Genevieve.’ His expression turned grim. ‘A match between you may assuage their king’s anger, for it will allow him to have a strong alliance with us.’

‘You’ve no right to ask such a thing of me.’ Bevan could not imagine the idea of taking another woman as his wife. He had sworn never to wed again, and he intended to keep that vow.

‘As your king and overlord, I can command it,’ Patrick said. The threat was thinly veiled.

Bevan refused to believe his brother would act upon it. ‘She will return to her parents’ home in England. In the meantime our men will go to Rionallís.’

‘If you will not wed her, perhaps Connor will.’

At the thought of another man laying hands on her, Bevan wanted to snarl. Genevieve had suffered enough. The best place for her was an abbey, where no man could touch her.

‘You care for her, don’t you?’ Patrick said quietly.

‘She risked her life for mine and Ewan’s. That is all there is between us.’

‘I have my doubts upon that, brother. Else you would not be so angry.’

Bevan took a long drink of wine, glaring at Patrick. ‘I brought her to safety, nothing more.’

His mood blackened as he thought of Marstowe’s abuse. It occurred to him that her family had arranged the betrothal. Even if Bevan sent her home, she might still be forced to wed Marstowe.

Though he did not want to wed Genevieve himself, he did not want to see her suffer again. He envisaged Fiona’s beautiful face, hearing her screams as the Normans took her from him. The reddish haze of