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“My honor is you, and I would follow you wherever you led.”

“Lady Melite, come and take this daughter of yours away. I find her still to have no manners before her guests.”

Melite smiled from one to the other. “I fear I must defend her. She was ever a good and sweet child before she looked at your lordship.”

Lyonene giggled.

His eyes sparkling, Ranulf shook his head as he looked from his mother-in-law to his wife. He paused at the door for one last glimpse of Lyonene as she cooed at the child, smiled peacefully as he harkened to Brent’s demands and followed the boy.

Melite did not need to ask after her daughter’s happiness, for it showed on her face—her contentment and joy with her husband, her son, her home. Melite was glad to see the peace and harmony that reigned.

Chapter Seventeen

The news of Lyonene’s safe return spread quickly throughout the kingdom, and guests began arriving. She ran to Berengaria’s arms as they clasped one another, joyous to see each other again. Travers was followed by his son, a seventeen-month-old boy who looked exactly like his mother and thus was a pretty child. It was a contrast to see the angelic boy near the ugliness of his father.

“I know what you think,” Berengaria whispered, “and I am glad also he has the look of me. But come, I would see what that great black husband of yours has produced.”

Berengaria exclaimed over the green-eyed child with pleasure, as everyone did, and Montgomery already seemed to preen under their affection. “He has the look of his father already,” Berengaria sai

d, laughing.

When Ranulf returned to the castle with Brent, he walked beside Dacre and the two men laughed at some jest together.

“What have you done to him?” Berengaria asked of Lyonene. “He is changed and is not the same man I have seen for years.”

Lyonene shrugged. “He is always like that with Lord Dacre. They are no older than Brent when together.”

“Nay, you are wrong. I have seen Lord Ranulf and Lord Dacre wrestling with one another since I was a child, but never was there such a light in your husband’s eyes. You have tamed this Black Lion.”

“Nay, I hope I have not. If I remember correctly, there are some fierce ways about him that I enjoy overmuch.”

“Remember?” Berengaria questioned. “The boy is near a month old.”

Lyonene told her friend briefly of the months in Ireland.

Berengaria shuddered. “I do not think I wish to hear more of your time in Ireland. I would not like to be away from my family for so long. But I think you most fortunate in your husband. Had I been so stupid as you, I think Travers might have left me to them.”

Lyonene blinked a few times at the blunt words, but then agreed that the idea had plagued her a bit. Their words were halted by the entrance of Dacre and Ranulf.

“Here is that wife of yours and still as pretty as I remember. Do you draw a sword on me again if I touch her?” Dacre asked.

“If I challenged you, it would be the end of you,” Ranulf said quietly.

“We shall have time to test your words.” Dacre laughed and then turned and whirled Lyonene in his strong arms, tossing her into the air before pulling her close to lustily kiss her mouth. She cast one glance at Ranulf, and her suspicions were founded; her husband scowled blackly at them, his body held rigid in an attempt to control his emotions.

“You are a sweet little morsel, almost as fine as my Angharad.”

Lyonene pushed at Dacre’s shoulders; his hands were on her waist and her feet were high off the floor. “And how is your wife, Lord Dacre?” she said loudly. Then, in a quieter voice, she said, “Unhand me or I shall tell everyone something Lady Elizabeth told me of you.”

Dacre stared at her a moment, then set her to the floor and began to laugh. “Were not Angharad the size of my horse, I would have brought her here and you would be a fitting match for my hellion. Did you hear this bit of a girl your wife threaten me? Look at her.” Dacre stretched his arm above her head. “She dares much.”

Ranulf smiled at his wife, then looked back at his friend. “I would rather know what Lady Elizabeth says of you.”

Dacre’s face lost its smile. “Hmmm. Well, I think I might not like that known just yet.”

Ranulf threw back his head and laughed. “We will see my son and then my men wait for you. I believe there is a matter of some gold to be exchanged.”

Dacre thumped his friend’s back. “This is one debt I am willing to pay most eagerly, for in truth I did not think you man enough to do it.”


Tags: Jude Deveraux Montgomery/Taggert Historical