A Warrior's Passion. Margaret Moore

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СКАЧАТЬ that Diarmad MacMurdoch ever broke his word or harmed any ally. No, he was trustworthy as far as that went. But no one who made a bargain with him ever felt they got quite a fair deal, and in that, they were absolutely right.

      “Very well, Father,” Seona said, turning to leave. “I will insure that all is ready.”

      “There is more!”

      Seona turned back to face her stern parent again. “Yes, Father?”

      “You are to see that he is kept…happy…while he is with us.”

      Her eyes narrowed as she regarded her father with a shrewdness his allies would have recognized. It did not ease her suspicions that her father did not meet her gaze. “What is it you would have me do?”

      As the silence stretched between them, her instinct became a certainty and anger began to build in her breast.

      “What would you have me do?” she repeated.

      When he still did not answer, she squared her slender shoulders. “You would pander your own daughter for the sake of trade? I suppose I should be surprised that you have never made such a proposal before. However, I am not so ugly or desperate for a man’s touch that I will act a whore!”

      “Did I tell you to sleep with the man?” her father retorted. “What have I asked of you except to see that my guest is made welcome?”

      “I will see that his quarters are prepared as befits a valued ally,” she said firmly. “I will see that we have good food and drink to serve him—but no other needs will I fulfil.”

      Her father shrugged his shoulders, and the scowl on his face was suspiciously like a pout. “You are not getting any younger, Seona,” he remarked, “and you’ve never been a beauty. You could do a lot worse than Griffydd DeLanyea. His father’s a powerful man, part Norman, too. Maybe if you—”

      “Went to his bed, he would marry me?” She made no effort to hide her disgusted skepticism. “Father, who is it always says no man will buy what he can taste for free?” She wrapped her arms about herself. “Besides, I am not for sale, like furs or gold.”

      Diarmad MacMurdoch regarded his only daughter coldly. “What is every marriage but a bargain? This would be no different. I’ve fed you and clothed you all these years, letting you live like a leech on my skin. It is time someone else took you.”

      “You will offer me up like damaged goods?”

      “If I must.”

      “I am your daughter!”

      “So what of that? I have sons to succeed me and fight for me. What will you ever do? Even if you marry, you will need a dowry—and where is that to come from, eh, but my purse?”

      “I did not ask to be born!”

      “No, and I did not ask for you, either!”

      “I will not shame myself—”

      Her father suddenly rose up like a wrathful spirit. “Do not speak of shame to me, girl! Have I not lived in shame these twenty years, aye, since the day you were born? Shame to have a daughter first! Shame that she was a weak, skinny thing! Shame that she was ugly! Shame that no man would have her, no matter how much I offered!”

      Every word was like the sting of the lash to Seona, even if she had heard it all before.

      Except the last. That was something new, and devastating.

      “How much?” she asked in a whisper as cold as the wind from the hills in winter.

      Now it was his turn to look startled. “Eh?”

      “How much were you willing to pay someone to marry me?”

      Scowling, he wrapped his robe about him and shrugged one shoulder morosely. “It matters not.”

      “It does to me. I would know my worth.”

      “Five hundred pieces of silver.”

      And still no man wanted her! Dismay washed over her—and yet she would not give in to it, or to her father, either, just because no man of any wealth or consequence would take the bribe, for only to such would her father extend the offer. Otherwise, he would keep her by his side to run his household.

      So it did not matter that a man of his choosing would not take her, she thought as she lifted her too-pointed chin.

      “You should be glad I am here,” she said, “and that you have me to run your household. Am I not cheaper to keep than another wife would be? She might demand some notice from you, or lacking that, material goods to keep her happy.”

      She ran a scornful gaze over her father, the chieftain of his clan, the leader of his people, the trader all men respected. Then she slowly and deliberately untied the ring of keys from her belt and held them straight out. “I learned better than to ask you for anything long ago. Would you have these back?”

      “No!” her father growled.

      “Then I will do my duty—but no more, not for you or any man!”

      “Daughter—!”

      “Servant,” she interrupted. “Little more than slave.”

      “A servant would do her master’s bidding without an argument! A slave would know her place. By God, I should have drowned you like the runt of the litter.”

      She regarded him steadily. “Aye, Father, perhaps you should have, but it is too late for that now. And alas for you, I am not a servant.”

      With that, Seona turned on her heel and marched out.

      

      Holding to the curved prow to steady himself in the bow of Diarmad MacMurdoch’s vessel, Griffydd DeLanyea drew in a deep breath of the salty air and gazed at the craggy hills of this godforsaken country. While Wales had hills and mountains aplenty, it also contained trees and lush valleys. All he could see here in the north was rock touched with a bit of green. Perhaps when the ship drew closer, the land would not look so barren.

      Thank the Lord he didn’t have to live in the place, though. All he had to do was reach an agreement with Diarmad MacMurdoch, whose ships sailed all around Britain, the Isle of Man and Ireland, as well as north to the land of the Norsemen and Danes, and south to the Normans and even the Moors.

      Griffydd’s father’s sheep produced some of the finest wool in Wales, and a lot of it. The baron’s tenants had also discovered silver in the hills near their castle of Craig Fawr. These two commodities would bring the family much wealth, if they could get it to several markets. Baron DeLanyea knew almost nothing about the sea and ships; better, he had told his son, to strike a bargain with a man who did and pay for his expertise.

      “Yet have a care, my son,” his father had cautioned, “for a tricky man is Diarmad MacMurdoch. He will rant and rave and try to wear you down with his dramatics. That is why I send you, Griffydd. You have the patience to wear him down, with silence.”

      As СКАЧАТЬ