Bound to Her Blood
Enemy
by
Tora Williams
Norman heiress, Matilda Comyn is desperate to escape her grasping
guardian and reclaim her inheritance.
After a lifetime of being let down by men, she wants to rule
her lands on her own terms. She can’t escape without help and battles her mistrust
when compelled to join forces with a Welsh spy.
Huw Ap Goronwy has a rival claim to Matilda’s castle and has sworn
a blood oath against the Comyns. When his king rules they must marry, he struggles
to reconcile his attraction with his need for revenge. But they must form a
truce if they are to seize their castle.
Risking capture and death, they will only succeed if Matilda learns
to trust, and Huw allows his love for Matilda to overcome his need for revenge.
Excerpt
Bound to Her Blood Enemy
She reached for the
ointment, only to gasp when Huw gripped her wrist.
“Hold—you’re Reginald
Fitzjohn’s ward?” There was an odd look in his eyes that she couldn’t
“Yes. What—?”
He let her go.
“You’re Matilda Comyn.”
A shiver of unease
trickled down her spine. “How do you know my name?”
“I keep my eyes and
ears open.”
“That’s no answer.”
Suddenly she was afraid. Not the same fear she held for Sir Reginald, but the
fear that came when standing on a precipice, knowing one misstep would send her
plunging into the unknown. She moistened her lips which had grown dry. “You
still haven’t told me why you’re here. Give me a reason why I shouldn’t turn
you in.”
“Even if I tell you,
what guarantee do I have that you won’t turn me in anyway?”
“Because I’m no…” She
stopped. This wasn’t how the conversation should be going. So far, she’d
learned his name, and that he was Welsh. She’d as good as told him her life
story. Trying to get information from Huw ap Goronwy was like wrestling with
eels.
“There’s no
guarantee. You’ll just have to trust me.”
“I trust no one.”
This was getting them
nowhere. “You’re right. I could turn you in.” She stabbed a finger up toward
the main body of the keep. “There’s any number of men up there who would be
very interested to know why a Welshman is here, disguised as a beggar.”
“What’s stopping
you?”
“In case you hadn’t
noticed, Sir Reginald and I are not on the best of terms. If he caught you and
found out I’d spoken to you, he’d punish me. So, believe me, I want you to stay
hidden.”
Huw’s face darkened.
“He beats you?” It gave her a thrill to hear the concern in his voice. It
wasn’t something she was used to from a man.
“Only when…” She
caught herself. She was doing it again. Giving him information when he
volunteered none. “That’s not your concern.”
Huw shifted on the
bench as she was speaking, and his cloak parted. The tunic underneath was just
as ragged, but a glint caught her eye. Before he pulled the cloak closed again,
she caught a glimpse of a dagger at his hip. Although its ornamentation was
simple, the quality of the workmanship was clear. No ordinary man would bear
such a weapon. A suspicion of the truth formed in her mind, and she grasped it.
Anything to break through this man’s reserve.
“You’re Owain
Gwynedd’s man, aren’t you?”
She’d heard rumors
that the King of Gwynedd was seeking to reclaim the lands taken by the Normans,
taking advantage of the chaos in England.
A muscle jumped in
his jaw, betraying him.
“That’s it.” Her
voice, which she had kept pitched low, now rose in excitement. “You’re here as
his sp—”
“Quiet!” He clamped a
hand over her mouth and spoke in an undertone. “Do you want to get me killed?”
He glanced over his shoulder toward the open doorway, his body tense. Matilda
forced her breathing to calm. If he’d wanted to kill her, he would have done so
by now.
The sound of the
armorer whistling, accompanied by the rasp of whetstone upon iron, drifted into
the room. Huw relaxed and loosened his grip. “Promise to keep your voice down,
and I’ll let you go.”
She nodded. His
reaction had dispelled any doubt about the rightness of her guess. The plan
that she had been turning over in her mind was looking ever more possible.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head.
She picked up the jar of ointment and fumbled with the stopper, fighting the
urge to speak. Two could play at this game. This time he was going to talk, and
she was going to listen.
One corner of his
mouth tilted up. “Very well,” he said. “You’re right. I am the King of
Gwynedd’s man.”
“And you’re”—she
dropped her voice to a murmur—“spying out the Norman strongholds for him?”
He nodded.
“Is that why you’re
here at Redcliff?” She frowned. Redcliff was a few miles east of Shrewsbury.
Not far from the Welsh border, but surely not close enough for the Welsh to
have a claim.
“Not in this
instance, no.”
“Then why are you
here?”
“I came to find you.”
~~~
Tora Williams lives in Shropshire in the United Kingdom.
On childhood holidays her interest in history was fired by exploring castles in Wales and the Welsh borders, and she would make up stories about characters living there. When she started writing, it seemed only natural to turn to the settings that inspired her as a child.
In her free time, when she can drag herself away from reading, she enjoys walking and cycling.
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