Enchantress Mine Read Free

missed her since she had married Ciaran St. Ronan. Though he never lacked for companions, no woman had ever aroused him as did Blanche. Reaching up he stroked her soft cheek, and said in a pious tone, “My doors will be open to you, dearest niece, should you desire to make your confession to me later on this evening.”
    “I shall welcome any penance you impose upon me, uncle, ” she returned demurely. Then she was gone from the tiny private room. As she exited there was a triumphant smile upon her face, and she was certain of her total success. She had learned quickly, and early that a woman’s body was a potent weapon in the war between the sexes! The brat, Mairin, would be disposed of and dispossessed. Blanche’s child would inherit the St. Ronan lands! She thanked God and the Blessed Mother for her lustful uncle, else she and her baby might have been forced to accept their very bread from that little bastard. Of course, Blanche decided, she would have to get rid of the wench as quickly as possible. Once it became known what had been arranged, the tongues would wag, but they would wag less if Mairin were not around to remind everyone of what Blanche had done. Besides, who would take the brat’s part against her father’s legal widow? The lady of St. Ronan cared little what people might think as long as she and her child were victorious. Blanche St. Ronan smiled broadly, but the smile never reached her cold blue eyes.

Part One
    THE SAXON’S
DAUGHTER
    England, 1056–1063

Chapter 1

    W ithin the Forest of the Argoat all was silent, but for the occasional trill of a bird, or a soft whisper of a breeze. The beeches and the oaks soared skyward, reaching with strong green fingers toward the life-giving warmth of the sun above them. Great mossy boulders that had been contoured by the passage of time and worn into strange, almost mysterious shapes by centuries of wind and rain littered the forest floor. Following the almost invisible path that wound its way through those huge rocks, one came upon a stream that tumbled breathlessly over the large stones in its wake, only to disappear around a sharp curve and slip silently off into the deep woods.
    Somehow the warm late-summer sun managed to break through the thick stands of trees casting a pale green light over everything it touched; skimming across the dark pool within the sudden clearing where a great antlered stag had stopped to drink. A shaft of light touched the dark chestnut velvet of his flank, but so secure was the beast within this magical realm that he barely raised his head to gaze with liquid eyes as with the faintest rustle the underbrush gave way for but a moment to allow a small figure to enter within the charmed circle. It was a child. A little girl of such delicate structure and beauty that it seemed as if the faintest puff of wind would blow her away.
    Seeing the stag, Mairin St. Ronan stopped to greet the beast. “Hail, Hearn!” came her soft childish voice, and the stag lowered his head to once again drink, knowing instinctively that this was no enemy.
    The child’s skin was snow-white and of such translucent quality that it contrasted sharply with the soft light within the clearing. The sunlight touching the crown of her head lit a flame of red-gold so intense that many seeing the little girl’s mass of fiery hair for the first time were amazed by the beautiful color. Some fingered the great cloud of softness as if unable to believe the evidence of their own sight. It was unusual for a child so young to be so beautiful, and there was speculation as to what she would look like when she was grown. She was strangely adult for one so young, and this coupled with her rare beauty made many uncomfortable. There were even rumors that she visited old Catell, the witch woman, and because the child’s knowledge of healing was beyond her years, many believed her to be a young enchantress. After all, had not Brittany been the home of the Great Sorcerer,