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

forgotten that we are not rich, thanks to Connor? That we have little power, thanks to Connor? Or would you rather I found some rich and ancient Welsh knight who craves a young and beautiful bride? You are so lovely, Cordelia, I could have offered a pittance for your dowry, I’m sure, and then used your amobr to pay our debts.”
    She reared back as if he had struck her. Instantly, his heart wished he could take back those final words. Yet his mind rebelled against regret, for what he had said was a truth, albeit an ugly one. She was beautiful enough that he would have a fine profit between a small dowry and the amobr , the Welsh bride price.
    Cordelia’s nostrils flared as she sniffed with disgust, although not with the same vim. “How foolish of me not to be grateful that you did not sell me off to the first knight who came calling.”
    “You should be. And I think you are angry because you will no longer be the chatelaine here once I wed.”
    He immediately realized this was a mistake. The expression on her face declared that she had not thought of what this marriage would mean to her beyond the shame of being the sister of a man who would sell himself for money.
    She marched over to the window and looked out a moment, thinking—something she had not done prior to marching in here like an enraged shrew, he was sure—before she whirled around to face him again. “What of Lord Rhys? Do you think he will stand idly by afterwards? He will say you are betraying the Welsh, as many others will.”
    “What has Lord Rhys ever done for me? Or these other Welsh you speak of?” he countered as he leaned his hip against the table, Fiona’s argument coming easily to his lips. “They will not pay the taxes for us, will they? As for Rhys, he’s too busy weaving his own plans and nursing his grudge against Richard. Nor should King Richard care who I marry, as long as he gets his money. You see, little sister, I did not make this bargain without thought.”
    He waited for Cordelia to try to disagree with him.
    Her frown deepened and suddenly, he saw a hint of pity in her eyes.
    “Do you hear yourself?” she asked. “A bargain, you call it. A trade. You might as well be speaking of horses at the fair.”
    His anger spiked again. He didn’t need anyone’s pity. There had been a time he ached for a kind word, or praise for a lesson well done, but it had not come, and he had learned to live without it. “So what if it is? All marriages are business agreements.”
    “That’s a lie and you know it. Our parents’ marriage was not a bargain.”
    Lingering grief cooled his hot anger to practicality.
    “Our parents are dead and we are in danger of losing our home,” he said with more restraint. “Marrying Fiona will prevent that, and that’s what I intend to do, whether you approve or not.”
    Storm clouds gathered again on her brow and in her smoke gray eyes. “I know our parents are dead, and so you are the overlord here. I know full well that we are not rich anymore, and if you want to do this thing, I cannot stop you. So do what you will. Just don’t expect me to like it, or that brazen Scot.”
    “Fiona. Her name is Fiona.”
    Cordelia’s lip curled, barely perceptibly, but he saw it nonetheless. “If you say so.”
    She marched to the door, then looked back at him. “If you had to sell yourself, it’s too bad you couldn’t at least have been purchased by a pretty woman.”
    With that she went out and slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing through the solar.
    Caradoc ground his fist in his palm as he stared at the back of the door. What else had he expected? That she would welcome this news and gladly give up her position as chatelaine of Llanstephan to a stranger, and a Scottish one at that? That she would understand the problems he faced? That she would have a moment’s compassion for him?
    God save him, every time he tried to reason with his sister, he only made things worse. When he tried to talk to