FOR LOVE OF GWYNNETH
Thank you for inviting me to post here, Miriam!
My new release, FOR LOVE OF GWYNNETH, is a Medieval romance with fantasy~paranormal elements.
Blurb: For Love of
Gwynneth:
It is 1135, and
everything Gwynneth and Richard thought they wanted is put to the crucible.
Gwynneth's innocent
desire to spy on her secret love, brother to the man her father says she will
wed, spirals out of control when Richard
captures her.
All Richard wanted
was a quick tryst with a Wood Nymph. He never imagined he would be forced into
a marriage. Richard is not pleased. Everything goes wrong, starting with his
plans to avenge the deaths of his father and uncle, not to mention that his brother
had planned to wed Gwynneth. A powerful baron from the north claims he has a
signed betrothal contract between his son and Lady Gwynneth, which the baron
intends to enforce. Then there is the matter of his new father-in-law and his
unceasing efforts to end Richard’s life. The only good to come from the
marriage, Richard finally realizes, is Gwynneth. Then she’s taken from him.
Richard's journey
begins to reclaim his wife. For love of Gwynneth.
Excerpt:
* * * *
Gwynneth
heard them coming and stopped to listen, at first cocking her head and
frowning, then smiling at the unmistakable sound of disgruntlement in Richard’s
voice.
"Gwynneth,"
Richard repeated for what seemed to him the ten hundredth time, he walking on
foot as Alden and Geoffrey trailed behind with the horses. "I'm sorry for
what I said. I’ll not put you away. Please come out and let me take you home.
Gwynneth, I'm sorry..." He said it over and over, repeating what Alden had
said he should say, but feeling very foolish.
It was
after Alden explained why Gwynneth had reacted as she had about being put to
convent that Richard reluctantly agreed to speak aloud to the wood.
As
Alden told the story, she’d been sent to convent as a child, but promptly ran
away. It had taken over ten days for her to make her way home, during which
time everyone was convinced she’d never be seen again, either having been
devoured by the wild beasts of the forest, or taken and sold. She’d been given
a beating upon her arrival home, but stubbornly insisted she’d do it again if
forced to return to the confining convent. Gwynneth was assured she’d be
returned the next day. When all awakened the next morning, she was gone.
“That’s
when you found her,” Alden said.
“I
found her?” Richard queried.
Alden
nodded. “She'd been hiding in a tree, but fell and broke her arm. You found her
and brought her home to Mother at Aven.”
He
screwed up his face in thought. “That
scrawny thing was Gwynneth?”
“Yea.
She recalls quite clearly how you rescued
her. How you teased she must be the clumsiest wood nymph in the wood.”
Wood nymph? Richard frowned.
“Was
she ever sent back to convent?” Geoffrey asked.
Alden
shook his head.
“Why’d
she run from convent?” Richard asked.
“She
fears being confined. When she said she’d die if you put her away, she spoke
true.”
Richard
had grunted and agreed to Alden’s way. But was greatly relieved his men weren't
there to hear him speaking, nay, pleading
aloud to the trees. He jumped when he felt a small hand settle on his arm, and
uttered an oath. He turned to face her. "You," he began darkly.
"You
won't put me away?" she asked softly.
Seeing
her fair countenance marred by one eye swollen shut, Richard softly growled.
He’d killed the baseborn dog too quickly. Should have made him suffer more,
suffer mightily, should have made him plead for a swift death. Next time, he
promised himself.
Now
he had Gwynneth to contend with, to ease her fears and strange notions. At the
sight of her face open and trusting, his angry words fled, although irritation
remained. "Nay, Gwynneth."
She
stared, waiting expectantly.
He
rolled his eyes at her loud silence. "Know this, I shall never put you
away. This I vow," he declared loudly.
“Or
leave me at another holding?”
He muttered
at such doubt. “Nay, you won’t be left behind.”
She
nodded. “You don’t want me.” Her tone of voice remained neutral.
He
growled, anxious to return, although he knew she was waiting for some assurance
concerning her future. “I don’t like being forced to do things. And I don’t like your father! Miserable
bastard,” he muttered as he looked away.
“I
can understand that,” she said softly. “I never set out to deceive you.”
“I
know.” He reached for her arm. “Come.”
She
pulled away from his hand. “I feared what my father would do if he knew I had
met with you. He never would have understood it was by chance we met. Well, the
first time. I didn't mean to deceive you.”
“I
understand,” he gritted. “We return now.”
She
stepped back. “You said you’d never forget what I did.”
“God’s
death, woman!”
Alden
and Geoffrey moved a little closer.
She
stared up at him, waiting.
“What?
Jesu, I said I wouldn’t put
you away! What? What more do you want?”
“You
only marry me because my father—”
“You
and I marry, Gwynneth,” he broke in impatiently. “‘Tis not what we want, but we
cannot always have what we want, can we?”
She
shook her head and frowned.
He
growled softly, seeing her apprehension. "'Twas you put us in this mess!
What'd you think would happen when that—when your father learned what had
happened? Hmmm?"
She
pulled herself up straighter, and looked him square in the eye. "'Twas you that brought me to Erlestoke. I told
you take me home!"
He
snorted. "But you didn't say why,
did you? Didn’t say aught about why it would be in my best interest to take you home, now did
you? Hmmm?”
“Nay.”
She looked down at the ground. "The words never came out. I know it sounds
a paltry excuse, but my throat seized whene’er I tried voicing my name or
identity."
He
wasn’t pleased at the sight of her woeful expression, and his frown increased
at the remembrance of her words spoken earlier.
“I
don’t kill my wives,” he said darkly. “They die on me. ‘Tis naught I do, just
their bad luck.”
She
pulled her mantle a little tighter, and again faced him. “I never believed you
capable of murdering a wife for gain.”
His
eyes narrowed. Gain? Where’d she hear that? “Then why shout it as you ran from
me?”
“I
didn’t,” she retorted indignantly. With a brief look at the wood, she turned
her eyes back to Richard. “If, as you say, ‘twas naught you did, just their bad
luck, then if I become your wife, then mayhap my luck will change. I don’t want
to die; all your wives die.”
He
shook his head at her stubbornness. “You won’t die, Gwynneth. You’re young,
strong, healthy; you won’t die.” His thoughts went back again to Renard’s
words.
“She
comes from good stock, FitzHugh. Her mother, the best of women, a great lady,
bore me one jewel of a daughter and five healthy sons; all still alive and
well,” he’d gloated. “Gwynneth is small, but she favors her mother, the Lady
Cinnia. She’ll beget you a dynasty, FitzHugh...if you can keep her.”
Her
face clouded at his impatient tone of voice. “How can you be sure?”
Because your bastard father will
decorate the trees with my entrails should aught happen to you. “I won’t let you die.” She looked unconvinced by his
declaration. “Your father will be angry
with you if you don’t come back with me—" slyly he ached a brow—"if
you don't marry me.”
She
looked again toward the wood. “You come after me only because you fear my
father’s wrath; but so did I.”
“Though
true, ‘tis neither here nor there; we wed.” He knew there must be kinder words to
say they had no choice in the matter, but he wasn’t of a mind to search for
them now. “Know you how long it would take you to walk to Penclyst?”
She
shrugged in reply and looked down at the ground.
“Have
food with you?” he asked roughly.
She
shook her head.
His
frown deepened. "Aren't you hungry? Maudie said you refused food all
day."
"I
had no appetite."
His
hands went to his hips. He could put a stop to this by grabbing her and forcing
her to return, but realized it would be a temporary solution, for he’d no doubt
she’d try this again. “‘Tis dangerous to sleep alone in the wood. Wolves,
boars, bears—”
“I
would sleep in a tree.”
“Fall
and break your arm again?”
She
looked up quickly.
He
saw her worried expression disappear, the near smile. He spoke in a gentler
tone. “I want you to come back with me.”
With
a sad sigh, she looked back down at the ground.
He
gritted his teeth and forced himself to patience. “I don’t want to have to
force you to come back with me. Should I have to force you, I shall have to
beat you, you know.” There. That’s a threat she understands.
She
snapped her head up and her gaze searched his face.
Now
that she recognized he wasn’t a man to be taken lightly, he silently
congratulated himself. “When we return you may do whatever you like to the hall
so it suits you. It does stink.”
Gwynneth
was amazed to hear such words come from him, and felt a surge of pleasure he’d
allow her such freedom. “I may?”
"Yea.
Should be pleasant for our wedding."
She
searched his face carefully, but saw no part of his smile touch his eyes.
“I
have spoken to Sheila,” he informed her. “She’s the one who… You’ll have no
cause for complaint from her,” he assured her, his tone of voice hinting at
dire, unpleasant consequences should Sheila ever cause Gwynneth to voice a
complaint.
Her
eye opened wide. Was that what she’d seen?
He
took her meat knife and dagger from his belt, and held them before her. When
she reached for them, he pulled back. "I trust you," he cautioned.
She
smiled. Foolish man! Did he think she would ever use her dagger on him?
He
glowered at her. “I warn you, should you ever brandish this before me, I shall have
to beat you.”
“Never,”
she promised softly.
“And
no more tears. I hate tears. Should I
see tears, I shall beat you. You understand?”
“Yea,”
she replied softly. “Is there aught else I needs do to avoid a beating?” She
bit her lip closed at his look of shock.
He
cleared his throat. “Yea.” He cleared his throat once again. “Yea. As my wife,
I’ll not tolerate mindless chatter from you, nor angry silences, nor witless
complaints.” He glared at her, as if daring her to whimper up a complaint,
grunting when she remained silent.
"Now
Gwynneth, you cannot be running off every time I raise my voice to you.”
Raise his voice? He’d threatened to put me
away! She arched her brows and opened
her mouth to protest.
“Gwynneth,”
he continued quickly, “I say things when I am angry. Things I don’t mean to
say. It…” He stopped and shrugged.
It
wasn’t an apology, but she was sure it was as close to one as she’d ever get
from him. It satisfied her. She nodded, and then rested her hand on his arm.
He
acknowledged her silent acquiescence with a grunt. “No running away
again," he warned darkly. “Know I would quickly find you, and then have to
beat you. ‘Tis best you understand I'm not a man who abides women running away
from him."
She
nodded meekly, and looked down as she bit her bottom lip to keep it closed.
Although she dearly wanted to inquire how many women in his life had felt the
need to run away from him, she didn't think that now was the time to task him
with such a question.
He
might threaten to beat her. It took all her willpower to keep from laughing
aloud.
Alden
stood silent at a distance.
Geoffrey’s
eyes looked from Alden to Richard and
back again. He knew protecting his lord was now going to be immensely more
difficult, and all because of Lady Gwynneth.
* * * *
I hope you enjoyed the blurb and excerpt. If you want to know more about the wild-blooded world I write about, please visit my website, listed below.
This book is to be the first in a series. Next comes THE WAY OF THINGS, next is DELLA, and then, THE LADY ANNE.
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