(Once Upon a Pillow #1) Once Upon A Pillow by Christina Dodd & Connie Brockway

Author:Christina Dodd & Connie Brockway [Dodd, Christina & Brockway, Connie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

She was gone.

Rion sat at the table in the great hall, stared at the goblet of ale in his hand, and brooded. Helwin had gone back to her uncle’s, and that was just as it should be. She shouldn’t be tied to a man who had nothing but a sagging castle and no prospects. She should remain safe under her uncle’s roof.

If she didn’t, Rion would marry her and lose even the sagging castle. He would once again travel the roads of Europe as a mercenary—and she would go with him.

He’d seen what happened to women who joined a mercenary troop to be with their man. They grew old before their time. They bore children in dirty tents and died of childbed fever. If they lived, eventually, their men died on the battlefield and they were forced to become camp followers.

He couldn’t bear to have Helwin suffer with such a life. He’d done the right thing by sending her away.

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And after all, she’d gone without a single expression of regret. She’d collected her cloak briskly, said goodbye to his men and the village women, and hurried— some might say bolted—out the door.

He glared around him, looking for someone to trounce. But the men had ridden out to exercise the horses, the cowards, and the maids worked cautiously around him, trying to avoid attracting his attention.

Damn Helwin. Couldn’t she just once have turned and gazed longingly at him?

He’d told her he loved her. Didn’t she realize how great an admission that was? He’d never said that to a woman in his life, but he told her because ... well ... he did. Feisty, intelligent, organized . . . luscious, wanton, giving . . . how could he not love a woman like that?

Couldn’t she have cried as she trudged down the road?

He could have cried. He was losing his companion, his lady, the one woman he could ever love, and in her place he would have to find an heiress. Ugly, old, meek, dreary—it made no difference. He had to wed an heiress, or his lands and his people would be forfeit. Surely Helwin understood that.

Couldn’t she at least have thrown him a kiss?

But better that she didn’t, for then he would have gone and swept her into his arms and refused to let her go.

No. No. He wouldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t give in, for if he didn’t marry an heiress, he would lose Castle Masterson. He would be damned if, after three hundred years of Masterson occupation, he became the one lord who couldn’t hang on to his land.

Lifting the goblet, he drained it. He was the most cursed of men, he, who had been the greatest warrior Europe had ever seen . . . he, whose very name had made the opposition tremble ... in peace, he had proved to be an unlucky failure.

The goblet clattered on the table as a thought struck him. Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps, with the help of his men and the villagers, he could bring prosperity to his people by .

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