Tempt Me With Kisses by Margaret Moore Read Free Book Online Page A

worked for.
    He did not realize that his hands had balled into fists so tight, his knuckles whitened.
    Looking out the window, he surveyed his castle and forced himself to consider the dowry and all that it could do.
    He could see at once to the repairs of the roofs and walls. He could purchase new shears for his shepherds and new weapons for his garrison. New horses, too, and cows from the south.
    He began to make a mental list of all that he would do with his newfound wealth, and his desire slipped away. Once more, he was Caradoc, the lord of Llanstephan, and master of himself.
    Then Cordelia rode into the courtyard. As always, she was alone, and must have escaped her escort. The two men detailed to ride with her would undoubtedly return some time later and complain of having to chase her all over the hills.
    She would smile and shrug, vastly amused and proud of her prowess as a rider and the speed of her fiery mount, Icarus.
    She stared at the wagons, then jumped from her horse and hurried into the hall.
    He could imagine how she would react to the news surely flying around Llanstephan. A few moments later, he had his confirmation. Her booted steps sounded on the stairs, for she was taking them two at a time.
    He sat behind his table and prepared for war.
    The door to his solar crashed open and Cordelia burst into the chamber like an irate whirlwind.
    “Have you gone mad ?” she demanded. “Utterly, totally mad?”
    Her gray eyes snapping, she faced him with feet planted and arms akimbo, her cloak flaring. “What’s this I hear about you getting married ? To a Scot . A redheaded creature who just appeared out of nowhere with three carts like some kind of brownie. And the day after tomorrow! I told Jon-Bron he must be making it up, and a very poor jest it was.”
    In her anger, she was the female image of Connor in one of his rages, and Caradoc’s ire burned the hotter for it. Always Connor had gotten his way because he could make life a misery when he was thus enraged.
    Caradoc forced away the past and faced the angry present. “Then you owe Jon-Bron an apology, for it’s true. I am getting married the day after tomorrow to a Scot who appeared as if by magic in the courtyard, with three carts and three thousand marks for her dowry.”
    Cordelia’s jaw dropped. Then it just as quickly snapped shut before she spoke. “So that’s it? Three thousand marks and the lord of Llanstephan is sold?”
    “Watch your tongue, little sister,” he growled as he rose. “I don’t recall asking your opinion, and I don’t have to ask your permission to marry—but you will have to ask mine.”
    “Why should I?” she demanded, crossing her arms, like Connor in that, too. “Surely I will choose better than some Scot who arrives unannounced and unlooked for and convinces my brother to sell himself!”
    Her angry denunciation cut Caradoc like a dagger’s thrust. He had worked and worried for her sake, yet she would stand there and hurl such words at him.
    He strode toward her until he was nearly nose to nose with her, for she was tall for seventeen. “I am the lord of Llanstephan and no one tells me what to do, or how, or when. I have made my decision, and you will simply have to abide by it.”
    She didn’t back away. Cordelia never backed away.
    “Oh, yes, Caradoc, the mighty lord of Llanstephan Fawr, who sells his title for some Scots coin,” she retorted, her fists on her hips. “How could you do something so shameful? Have you no pride? No honor? Do you forget you are Welsh?”
    Glaring at her, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and fought to keep from shouting. “Listen to me, little sister, and listen to me well. I have sense, and pride, and honor, and we are but half Welsh. You would do well to remember that before you use that sharp tongue of yours to upbraid me again. What I do, I do for the good of Llanstephan, and you, and everyone who depends upon me for their safety and their livelihood. Have you