Medieval 01 - Untamed by authors_sort Read Free Book Online Page B

over Meg, his voice as dry and withered as his body; and like his eyes, his voice burned with the intense flame of an obsession that was little short of madness.
    â€œThere will be confusion among the Normans when you refuse the match,” John said. “Duncan will strike and the Normans will die. Then you will marry Duncan before blood dries in the aisle.”
    â€œYou cannot mean that,” whispered Meg.
    Stricken, she looked at Duncan. His hazel eyes were as hard as agates. There would be no help from that quarter.
    â€œThe Church refused our marriage six years ago,” she said urgently. “For good reason, Duncan. You are my half brother!”
    For a long time there was only silence barely disturbed by the quick, frail breaths of a man who clung to life.
    Duncan looked at John.
    â€œTell her,” the old man said.
    Reluctantly, Duncan turned back to confront the intense green eyes of the woman who had little real blood relationship to the men in the room.
    â€œAt most, sweet Meggie, I’m your stepcousin.”
    â€œNonsense,” she retorted. “You are John of Blackthorne’s bastard. Anyone with eyes to see knows it.”
    â€œAye. I am his son. But you are not his daughter .”
    Meg took a step backward before she controlled her shock. She straightened her spine and stood proudly.
    â€œWhat are you saying?” she asked.
    Before Duncan could speak, John did.
    â€œYour mother was breeding when we married,” he said bluntly. “You might be my stepbrother’s bastard. And you might be a groom’s spawn, for all I know. The bitch is dead and it matters not to me, for I will die soon.”
    â€œI don’t believe you,” Meg said tightly. “You may be able to blind priests with lies and offers of gold, and lure Duncan with promises you can’t keep, but not me. I am the daughter of Blackthorne Keep. I know it the way I know plants will lift their faces to the sun!”
    John struggled to sit up, but had to be content with turning onto his side to confront the girl whose birth had been the greatest affront ever suffered by the proud Saxon thane.
    â€œLook at me, Glendruid witch,” he said roughly. “Know my dying truth. You aren’t of my blood. Duncan is. Despite the meddling of English kings and the perfidy of Glendruid women, my son shall inherit my land .”
    Meg sensed that Lord John wasn’t lying.
    For a moment she couldn’t breathe. She fought the ice condensing just beneath her skin, chilling her until she shuddered. She had always known that her father could barely suffer the sight of her.
    Now she knew why.
    â€œYour son will inherit only death,” Meg said in a low, clear voice.
    â€œI’ll nae listen to your curses, witch!” John hissed.
    â€œCurses? What nonsense,” Meg said harshly. “’Tis only common sense.”
    She turned to Duncan, who was watching her unhappily.
    â€œI’m sorry, lass,” he said. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”
    â€œMy bastardy or lack of it matters not one bit right now. Listen to me, for John is too far into death’s embrace to care what happens to the living.”
    â€œMeggie—”
    She put her hands on her hips and interrupted sharply.
    â€œDon’t you ‘Meggie’ me, Duncan of Maxwell. I vow we must be close in blood, for I am immune to your Scots charm!”
    A crooked smile crossed Duncan’s face. “That you are. ’Tis why I like you so well. We will do nicely as man and wife.”
    â€œGod blind me,” Meg said through her teeth, shocking both men. “John has the excuse of grave illness to explain his lack of wit. What is your excuse, Duncan? Does ambition cloud your mind as much as death clouds his?”
    Duncan opened his mouth to answer, but Meg kept on talking, her voice both angry and pleading.
    â€œKing Henry won’t accept the treacherous murder of