Hers To Desire
Cornwall, 1244
THE LORD OF TREGELLAS fidgeted on his carved oaken chair on the dais of his great hall. "God's wounds, does it always take so long?" he muttered under his breath.
Normally Lord Merrick was the most stoic of men, and the hall of Tregellas a place of ease and comfort. Today, however, his lordship's beloved wife was struggling to bring forth their first child in the lord's bedchamber above, so everyone was anxious. The servants moved with silent caution, and even the hounds lay still and quiet in the rushes that covered the floor.
Only Lord Merrick's bearded, red-haired friend seemed at ease as he sat on that same dais and took a sip of wine. "I've heard that two or even three days are not uncommon for a first birthing," Sir Ranulf remarked.
Merrick's eyes narrowed. "Is that supposed to comfort me?"
Ranulf's full lips curved up in a slightly sardonic smile. "Actually, yes."
As Merrick sniffed with derision, Ranulf set down his goblet. "It seems an age to us, and no doubt longer to your Constance, but I gather a lengthy labor is not unusual the first time, nor does it indicate any special danger f ... read full excerpt from Hers to Desire ebook
