Passion in the Blood

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Authors: Anna Markland

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PASSION IN THE BLOOD

by

Anna Markland

 

The Montbryce Legacy

Book IV

 

Kindle Edition

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anna Markland 2012

ISBN
978-0-9878673-9-1

 

 

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to kindle.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

All fictional characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

 

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Also available on Kindle

Book One of The Montbryce Legacy~Conquering Passion

Book Two of The Montbryce Legacy~A Man of Value

Book Three of The Montbryce Legacy~If Love Dares Enough

 
 

The strength of a family,

like the strength of an army,

is in its loyalty to each other.

~Mario Puzo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For my firstborn,

Bernard Anthony

CHAPTER ONE

 

Ellesmere, England, August 2nd 1100

 

Robert de Montbryce had never seen his brother so animated. Though born and raised together in Ellesmere castle in England, he and Baudoin saw each other infrequently. Robert now lived in Normandie, having assumed responsibility, as the eldest son, for the ancestral castle at Montbryce. He loved Normandie. Montbryce castle was where he belonged, but he enjoyed visiting his parents in England. He missed his family.

Robert had to admit his brother had grown up in his shadow, but Baudoin’s calm exterior belied his deeply held convictions. Robert could certainly see that passion now.

They were often mistaken for twins. As the only male offspring of their parents, the onus on them to provide heirs and to carry on the Montbryce name was heavy, and they were reminded of it more and more frequently nowadays. Their parents shared a deep passionate love. Without admitting it, both sons wanted the same for themselves.

Robert had never been in love, but he suspected Baudoin was enamoured with Carys, the castle’s Welsh healer. He chuckled inwardly at the thought of the hornet’s nest that might unleash. The Earl of Ellesmere’s son in love with the daughter of the Earl’s nemesis, Welsh rebel chieftain Rhodri ap Owain! He wouldn’t want to be in Baudoin’s boots when their parents found out!

Most noblemen of his acquaintance would scoff at the idea of loving their wives, but Robert wanted what his parents had. He sometimes despaired of ever finding a lifemate, a woman who would make a good
Comtesse
when he inherited his father’s Norman title, especially now, given the volatile political situation in Normandie.

This was the topic that had Baudoin holding forth animatedly as they relaxed in the Hall after a heavy midday meal. The air was still redolent with the aroma of roasted venison. Their parents had left as soon as they’d finished eating, making an excuse. Did they believe their children were fooled? They knew full well Ram and Mabelle de Montbryce would wile away the afternoon in their chamber. Their passion had never waned over thirty years.

Rhoni had shared her brothers’ amusement and then gone off to her solar. Their sister rarely showed any interest in politics.

“Papa is right,” Baudoin banged his fist on the wooden table. “We’d be much better off with one ruler for Normandie and England. Serving two masters is intolerable, like walking a tightrope. What’s the sentiment in Normandie?”

Things said within the confines of Ellesmere might be considered treason by many, but Montbryces didn’t betray each other. Family loyalty was paramount. Though they could hear the distant chatter of servants in the kitchens, Robert felt comfortable they were too far away to overhear. “Most of the Norman barons favour Curthose.”

Baudoin snorted. “Ah! Your namesake! The misbegotten Duke of the Normans for the past thirteen years. They’re afraid he’ll confiscate their lands if they don’t support him.”

Robert had been slouching in his chair, legs outstretched. Now he tensed and sat up. “Listen, I don’t support him because I was named for him. We in Normandie have to be mindful he has the power to take our lands.”

Baudoin nodded his understanding. “You’re right, but most Norman barons own lands in England as well, and here we have to please King William Rufus.”

Robert threw up his hands. “Who knows what the Conqueror had in mind when he divided up his empire the way he did? Normandie for Curthose, England for Rufus and gold for the scholarly Henry, who’ll no doubt be a bishop one day. If only they could get along as a family, like the Montbryces!”

Baudoin slapped his thigh and laughed at his brother’s jest. “
Oui
. At least you and I have never emptied chamberpots on each other’s heads!”

They enjoyed the humour, remembering their parents’ disgust when news of the royal prank had reached Ellesmere years ago. Their laughter died when their father unexpectedly entered the Hall, clad only in his bed robe, his face ashen. Steward Bonhomme accompanied him, jaw clenched.

Robert and Baudoin came to their feet immediately. Both spoke at once. “What’s amiss, Papa?”

Ram clutched a parchment which he thrust at Robert. “The King is dead.”

Baudoin read the message over his brother’s shoulder. His face betrayed his shock. “William Rufus?”

Robert gasped and made the Sign of the Cross. “I can’t believe this.”

Their father swore. “Believe it! As you see, he was killed yesterday in a hunting accident in the New Forest. Your mother and I were—well, never mind. Steward Bonhomme brought the message to me as soon as it arrived. The rider insisted we get the news immediately. Since he was from the court—”

He drew his bed robe more tightly around his body and sat down wearily in a chair near the hearth, rubbing his knees.

Robert rolled the parchment and gave it back to his father. “We should go to the Map Room to discuss this. Too many people come in and out of here. We need to make some decisions.”

Baudoin strode to the door. “I’ll fetch Rhoni.”

Bonhomme held up his hand. “I can see to that,
milord
Baudoin.”

***

For as long as he lived Ram,
Comte
de Montbryce and Earl of Ellesmere, would remember that when news of the cataclysmic event was brought to him he was making sweet love with his beautiful wife, Mabelle. They’d enjoyed each other for more than thirty years, and the passion and love they shared had never diminished. Rheumatism slowed him down a bit these days, but they still experienced dizzying heights of rapture when they lay together, their bodies joined in bliss.

They were spending the later years of their lives in Ellesmere, the comfortable castle they’d built together, and had fallen into the habit of wiling away pleasant afternoons playing with each other’s bodies. It was one of these passion filled trysts that had been rudely interrupted by loud insistent banging on the outer door of their chambers.

“A moment!” Ram had risen reluctantly from his bed and donned his robe, hoping it might adequately conceal his erection. “Wait for me”, he’d whispered to Mabelle, inhaling the scent of her. “This will take but a few minutes, I hope.”

She’d smiled and curled up in the linens. “Don’t be long.”

Ram’s hopes were cruelly dashed when he read the terse message handed to him by his steward, Martin Bonhomme. He’d gone immediately to find his sons without bothering to dress.

As they made their way now to the Map Room, his mind was in turmoil. His thoughts went back to the first time he’d seen this castle, a
reward
granted him by William the Conqueror in the year of our Lord One Thousand and Sixty-Six, thirty and four years before.

He’d fallen to his knees in dismay at the dilapidated condition of the crude Saxon earthwork. It had taken him and his family the intervening years to build the castle and the town and its environs into a prosperous and vibrant community. He was proud of his achievement.

He recalled happy scenes of Robert, Baudoin and Hylda Rhonwen growing up there, and the bitter memory of the lonely torture of his months-long separation from his family, kidnapped by the notorious Welsh rebel Rhodri ap Owain. How elated they’d been to return home after their ransom.

Now, here was a danger that might destroy everything his family had worked for. They could lose everything in England and Normandie. He again sought the chair nearest the hearth. “I’ve never had any great love for Rufus, as you know, but this could jeopardise Ellesmere, and your earldom, Baudoin.”

The colour drained from Baudoin’s face.

“Your inheritance in Normandie may also be at risk, Robert. We could lose Montbryce.”

Both sons stood in silence, absorbing the idea of this unthinkable possibility.

Robert spoke first. “I need to get back to Normandie. I’ll get a message to them when we leave here. Once we’ve made some decisions.”

Ram rubbed his knees. “I didn’t support Rufus as the third son of the Conqueror when he first came to the English throne, believing the eldest son, Curthose, should inherit. But the news of his sudden death means trouble ahead. Curthose and Henry will both want the throne of England.”

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