Authors: The Mistress of Rosecliffe
Rexanne Becnel (31 page)
WHITLING CASTLE, ENGLAND
SEPTEMBER, A.D. 1153
RHYS AP OWAIN HAD THREE GOALS.
The first was to depart English soil forever and return to his beloved homeland of Wales. The second was to lay waste to the English who continued to encroach onto those lands—especially the FitzHughs—and thereby preserve Wales for the Welsh.
The third, and most urgent, was to unhorse the huge knight charging him at a thunderous pace.
He set his lance, aiming at the man’s shield, a little left of center. His destrier gathered momentum. The tournament crowd roared. Another second only. Brace. Twist—
The shock of the collision was ferocious and almost unseated him. But he angled his body, and with a screech the man’s lance slid past across his shield. He felt the solid contact of his own lance, though. Hard, solid contact. A jarring thud.
The other man’s horse shied to the side. Then it was abruptly over.
Clouds of dust obscured the outcome of the joust. But Rhys knew the feel of victory. He knew the smell. He breathed deep of dust and sweat and horseflesh. Twenty-nine tournaments he’d competed in during the last three years, and he’d been unhorsed only four times—and not once during the past season.
Even his warhorse sensed their victory, for the big animal’s pace changed to almost a prance. The earth trembled beneath his heavy hooves, while behind them the other destrier came to a riderless halt.
Rhys circled the demarcated jousting ring, his lance held at a high angle while the fallen knight’s men ran to help him. He knew what people said of him, the names that had begun to echo about him in recent years. He was known as Rhys the Ruthless, and Rhys the Wroth, and sometimes as Rhys the Enraged. It was because he fought not merely to win, but to crush his foe. To vanquish him.
To annihilate him.
Whether in the practice yard, at sanctioned tournaments—and unsanctioned ones—or on the field of battle, his purpose remained ever the same. It was always Englishmen he faced, and Englishmen he despised. So he fought them wherever he found them, and in England there were an infinite number of them willing to test their mettle against an upstart Welshman, a knight errant eager to sell his battle prowess to the highest bidder.
Along the way he’d become wealthy beyond his wildest childhood imaginings. But it was still not enough, not for what he had planned.
Across the yard, in the lord’s pavilion, he saw a woman rise, but through the narrow slits of his helmet he could not be sure of her identity. Wife to Lord Whitling, or daughter? He could not tell. But she held out a length of red silk woven with white flowers and ribbons, and he rode to collect it. Silk and roses might symbolize the tournament champion, but the gold and silver coins that the defeated knights would pay him for the return of their horses and armor mattered far more to Rhys.
A good day’s work, he decided as he paused before the elaborately draped and furnished viewing stand. He would collect a trunkful of riches for his work here.
He lowered the lance and the noblewoman wound the bauble around its tip. She smiled at him—it was the buxom mother, not the fair-faced daughter.
Rhys removed his helmet and the crowd of onlookers went wild, shouting, clapping, and stomping their approval. As four men fetched the last fallen knight away on a stretcher, their cheers for Rhys became whistles, and hoots of derision for the unmoving knight.
“I proclaim thee Champion of the Whitling Games, Sir
Rhys,” the woman said. Behind her Lord Whitling lifted his goblet and drank, then belched. But she ignored her husband and stared steadily at Rhys. “You will join us at the high table this evening.”
And in my bed later
, her half-lidded eyes silently added.
Rhys,” the woman said. Behind her Lord Whitling lifted his goblet and drank, then belched. But she ignored her husband and stared steadily at Rhys. “You will join us at the high table this evening.”
And in my bed later
, her half-lidded eyes silently added.
Rhys nodded. The daughter was prettier, but she would be a virgin and closely watched. The mother, meanwhile, was clearly eager and far more experienced. He’d bested seven English knights in this tourney. Tonight he would cuckold another—Lady Whitling’s husband.
He grinned at the woman. Then he raised the lance and let her silken confection slide slowly down the long shaft of his weapon. Her small, greedy eyes widened at that, and a hot glow lit them.
Yes, she would give him a good ride, he decided. Then come the dawn, he would leave for the tournament at Gilling. Word circulated that King Stephen had come to terms with his youthful challenger, Henry, Duke of Normandy. Change was in the air in England, and with change came opportunity, if a man was ready to seize it.
He’d achieved one of his goals today. The time was fast coming when he would accomplish the other two.
BY REXANNE BECNEL
Heart of the Storm
The Maiden Bride
Dangerous to Love
The Maiden Bride
Dangerous to Love
THE ROSECLIFFE TRILOGY
The Bride of Rosecliffe
The Knight of Rosecliffe
The Mistress of Rosecliffe
The Knight of Rosecliffe
The Mistress of Rosecliffe
THE KNIGHT OF ROSECLIFFE
“Ms. Becnel portrays medieval England excellently. There is plenty of passion and just the right amount of sexual tension. I am eagerly awaiting book 3.”
—Rendezvous
“Becnel … brings the Middle Ages to life with an elaborate plot, daring adventures and satisfyingly complex characters.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Ms. Becnel has crafted a wonderful, authentic look into 12
th
-century Wales, and along the way has created many primary and secondary characters to know and love. I can’t wait for the next installment in the series!”
th
-century Wales, and along the way has created many primary and secondary characters to know and love. I can’t wait for the next installment in the series!”
—Interludes
“I did have a wonderful journey while reading this well-written book and I’m looking forward to reading book three.”
—The Belles and Beaux of Romance
“Ms. Becnel’s story is a fast-paced read of love and loyalties, choices and courage.”
—Old Book Barn Gazette
“The second novel in Rexanne Becnel’s wonderful ‘Rosecliffe’ trilogy is an exciting, non-stop Medieval romance that features characters from the previous tale …
The Knight of Rosecliffe
will have readers anxiously awaiting the third tale from the magical Ms. Becnel.”
The Knight of Rosecliffe
will have readers anxiously awaiting the third tale from the magical Ms. Becnel.”
—Painted Rock Reviews
more …
“A stunning novel of taut suspense, sensual romance, and intriguing characters … Snuggle down for an evening of cozy reading that will leave a smile on your lips, a glow in your heart, and a hunger to read the third book.”
—Under the Covers
THE BRIDE OF ROSECLIFFE
“Rexanne Becnel creates a magical love story that compels the reader to stay up reading all night. Her three-dimensional characters and exquisitely detailed backdrop only add to the wonder of her lyrically told story.”
—Romantic Times
“Ms. Becnel creates the most intriguing characters and infuses them with fiery personalities and quick minds!”
—The Literary Times
DANGEROUS TO LOVE
“Rexanne Becnel writes stories dripping with rich, passionate characters and a sensual wallop that will have you reeling!”
—The Belles and Beaux of Romance
THE MAIDEN BRIDE
“A master medieval writer, Ms. Becnel writes emotional stories with a deft hand.”
—The Time Machine
HEART OF THE STORM
“Great characters, a riveting plot and loads of sensuality … A fabulous book. I couldn’t put it down!”
—Joan Johnston
“Rexanne Becnel combines heartfelt emotions with a romance that touches readers with the magic and joy of falling in love. Destined to be a bestseller from a star of the genre!”
—Romantic Times
“Tempestuous and seductive, this winner from Rexanne Becnel will enthrall from the first page to the last.”
—Deborah Martin, author of
Stormswept
Stormswept
WHERE MAGIC DWELLS
“A passionate, compelling story filled with engaging characters.”
—Library Journal
“Rich settings always bring Becnel’s medieval novels to life.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Enthralling … Another irresistible medieval romance from one of the best.”
—The Medieval Chronicle
DOVE AT MIDNIGHT
“A master medieval writer. Ms. Becnel writes emotional stories with a deft hand.”
—The Time Machine
“A non-stop read. Rexanne Becnel understands the medieval mind-set, and her beguiling characters’ passions and adventures will hold you enthralled. Once more, Ms. Becnel demonstrates that she is a master of her craft.”
—Romantic Times
THE MISTRESS OF ROSECLIFFE
Copyright © 2000 by Rexanne Becnel.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
eISBN 9781250011152
First eBook Edition : September 2011
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / March 2000
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