Taming Her Irish Warrior Page 26

Laying her back upon the soft coverlet, he withdrew from her body and scattered the gem stones over her bare skin. ‘You’re beautiful, Honora.’

  ‘I love you, Ewan.’ She lifted her mouth up to his in a soft kiss.

  ‘And I love you,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘Now, and always, my warrior.’

  Epilogue

  John’s cousin Edward had taken possession of Ceredys, as the next heir in line. A soft-spoken man with a fair sense of justice, he had been appalled to learn of John’s doings. Within a matter of weeks, he had restored peace among the people, helping them to rebuild their lives and their homes.

  Though Honora would continue to own one-third of the estate, she was happy to let the new lord of Ceredys govern the property and collect the rents on her behalf. Once Honora was confident that the people were in good hands, she returned to Erin.

  True to his word, Ewan began building their castle. Their estate lay beyond the Norse settlement, further inland from the rest of the MacEgan tribe. Though she missed the sea, Honora loved the vast acres of land for riding. Several hundred sheep grazed in the north pasture, while cattle dotted the hillsides.

  Although he had initially agreed to use the jewels and gold to buy the land, as his profits increased, Ewan had repaid Honora beyond measure. Unlike most men, he did not gift her with useless earrings or torques. Instead, he’d given her an arsenal of swords, daggers and spears, each honed to razor sharpness. Embedded within each pommel, he’d placed a gemstone to replace those he’d used.

  But his greatest gift to her was an army, made up entirely of women. Though they numbered fewer than a dozen, the women trained hard and were an asset to their growing number of tribesmen. Honora watched as the women lifted stones, helping the men build the inner bailey wall. Though the castle was hardly more than a skeleton, her days were filled with directing the folk and overseeing the construction.

  Because she worked alongside them, learning their language, the people welcomed her. She didn’t feel at all intimidated, because Ewan consulted her and made her feel that her opinion was valued.

  Aileen and Connor had spent time with them over the past few weeks while Connor had helped Ewan build some of the interior walls. Though her grasp of the Irish language was still weak, Honora could now understand most of the woman’s words.

  ‘You’ll be able to live within the donjon by next winter,’ Aileen predicted.

  Honora stifled a yawn, nodding. ‘It won’t come soon enough for me.’ She’d been so tired lately, she didn’t understand what was wrong with her. Yestereve, she’d fallen asleep with her face in the trencher, to the amusement of the others.

  ‘And I should think it will be in time before your babe arrives,’ the healer added.

  Aileen’s prediction was like a bucket of frigid water upon Honora’s mood. She shook her head. ‘I am not having a baby, Aileen.’

  With a kind smile, Aileen patted her shoulder. ‘Few of us are ever prepared for it. But it will be fine.’

  ‘It’s not true.’ Honora shook her head. ‘There are too many things to be done.’

  ‘You haven’t had your courses in a few months, now, have you?’

  ‘Well, no, but so much has happened, I haven’t had time. I’ve missed them before, when I’ve been under a great deal of pressure.’

  ‘True, but you have the other signs as well. Most women are tired in the first part of the pregnancy.’

  Honora pressed her hands to her flat stomach, and the world seemed to pitch and toss. ‘No. It’s too soon for me to have a baby. I have to train the women,’ she insisted.

  Aileen gave a bemused smile. ‘You can still train them, so long as you do it while you’re sitting down.’

  Honora covered her mouth with her hands, shaking her head. Ewan and Connor joined them, and as soon as he saw her face, Ewan grew concerned. ‘What is the matter, a ghrá?’

  ‘She’s going to have a baby, but she doesn’t feel ready,’ Aileen explained, patting her hand.

  At her sister-in-law’s matter-of-fact tone, and Ewan’s incredulous delight, Honora started to weep. ‘I’ll make a terrible mother.’

  ‘No, you’ll be fine,’ Ewan reassured her, wiping a tear away.

  ‘There will be many tears in the next few months,’ Connor warned. ‘Childbearing women do cry quite often.’

  Aileen swatted him. ‘And so would you, if you had to carry a child within your womb, your belly growing as large as a pumpkin.’ She grimaced. ‘And mine were twins, to make it worse.’

  The very thought of two babes made Honora’s knees buckle. Ewan caught her and pulled her onto his lap. He leaned in and kissed her, framing her face with his hands.

  ‘I’m afraid of this, more than any sword I’ve ever faced,’ she admitted.

  Ewan held her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. ‘I have no doubt that you will love our child as much as I love you.’

  As he rested his hands upon her womb, Honora kissed him wholeheartedly, thankful beyond words that this man belonged to her.

  And always would.

  ISBN: 978-1-408-93173-8

  Taming Her Irish Warrior

  © Michelle Willingham 2009

  First Published in Great Britain in 2008

  Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited

  Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, including without limitation xerography, photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the prior consent of the publisher, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l.

  ® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

  www.millsandboon.co.uk