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  Birthright

  Anna Markland

  BIRTHRIGHT

  By

  ANNA MARKLAND

  ©Copyright Anna Markland 2013, 2018

  COVER ART BY DAR ALBERT

  BIRTHRIGHT by Anna Markland

  Book V, The Montbryce Legacy, Anniversary Edition

  © 2013, 2018 Anna Markland

  www.annamarkland.com

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

  For permissions contact: [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Portions of this story appeared originally in Haunted Knights.

  “Two loyal brothers must cope with afflictions that render them unmarriageable and, in their minds, unfit for love. Two sisters, also afflicted and locked in the attic of a manor home their entire lives, cope with freedom and, in their minds, the undeserved love offered them by these noble men. The story takes an unusual and heart-touching approach to the stories of these four people, then weaves it with a tale of court intrigue and malicious intentions that has readers sitting on the edge of their seats in fear for the lives of these endearing characters.” Connie Flynn, author of The Dragon Hour.

  In honor of my grandson Adam,

  already a handsome young man.

  And in memory of my beloved Topaz.

  Hear no evil

  Speak no evil

  See no evil

  ~Ancient Wisdom

  Contents

  More Anna Markland

  The Dwarf And The Giant

  Impediments

  Birthright Renounced

  A Troubled Household

  East Preston

  Never Seen A Dwarf Before?

  The Checkered Field

  They Are Hiding Something

  Send Him To Hell

  We Will Die Together

  The Pain Of Rejection

  An Ancient Gargoyle

  Free At Last

  Nox

  The Narrow Sea

  A Comical Sight

  Crossing The Threshold

  The Hand Of Destiny

  Undeniable Attraction

  Instant Dislike

  Harlot

  Letyce's Chamber

  The Stable

  Naming Cats

  Revelations

  An Invitation

  I Have Told Her

  Indecision

  A Difficult Ride

  Arundel

  King Henry

  All Shapes And Sizes

  Le Manio

  Limited Facilities

  Betrayals

  Argument

  Missing

  Earnest Prayers

  Miracle And Catastrophe

  The Wedding Is Off

  Long Night At Sea

  Desperate Flight

  Quiberon

  Twist Of Fate

  Evil Intent

  Pray We Are In Time

  Atop The Monolith

  Into The Void

  Reconciliation

  Just Deserts

  Belisle

  Pilgrimage

  Let's Make A Baby

  Epilogue

  About Anna

  More Anna Markland

  The Montbryce Legacy Anniversary Edition (2018)

  I Conquest—Ram & Mabelle, Rhodri & Rhonwen

  II Defiance—Hugh & Devona, Antoine & Sybilla

  III Redemption—Caedmon & Agneta

  IV Vengeance—Ronan & Rhoni

  The Montbryce Legacy First Edition (2011-2014)

  Conquering Passion—Ram & Mabelle, Rhodri & Rhonwen (audiobook available)

  If Love Dares Enough—Hugh & Devona, Antoine & Sybilla

  Defiant Passion-Rhodri & Rhonwen

  A Man of Value—Caedmon & Agneta

  Dark Irish Knight—Ronan & Rhoni

  Haunted Knights—Adam & Rosamunda, Denis & Paulina

  Passion in the Blood—Robert & Dorianne, Baudoin & Carys

  Dark and Bright—Rhys & Annalise

  The Winds of the Heavens—Rhun & Glain, Rhydderch & Isolda

  Dance of Love—Izzy & Farah

  Carried Away—Blythe & Dieter

  Sweet Taste of Love—Aidan & Nolana

  Wild Viking Princess—Ragna & Reider

  Hearts and Crowns—Gallien & Peridotte

  Fatal Truths—Alex & Elayne

  Sinful Passions—Bronson & Grace; Rodrick & Swan

  Series featuring the stories of the Viking ancestors of my Norman families

  The Rover Bold—Bryk & Cathryn

  The Rover Defiant—Torstein & Sonja

  The Rover Betrayed—Magnus & Judith

  Novellas

  Maknab’s Revenge—Ingram & Ruby

  Passion’s Fire—Matthew & Brigandine

  Banished—Sigmar & Audra

  Hungry Like De Wolfe—Blaise & Anne

  Unkissable Knight—Dervenn & Victorine

  Caledonia Chronicles (Scotland)

  Book I Pride of the Clan—Rheade & Margaret

  Book II Highland Tides—Braden & Charlotte

  Book 2.5 Highland Dawn—Keith & Aurora

  Book III Roses Among the Heather—Blair &Susanna, Craig & Timothea

  The Von Wolfenberg Dynasty (medieval Europe)

  Book 1 Loyal Heart—Sophia & Brandt

  Book 2 Courageous Heart—Luther & Francesca

  Book 3 Faithful Heart—Kon & Zara

  Myth & Mystery

  The Taking of Ireland —Sibràn & Aislinn

  The Pendray Papers

  Highland Betrayal—Morgan & Hannah (audiobook available)

  Clash of the Tartans

  Kilty Secrets—Ewan & Shona

  Kilted at the Altar—Darroch & Isabel

  Kilty Pleasures—Broderick & Kyla

  The Dwarf And The Giant

  Belisle Castle, Normandie, 1100 AD.

  “At my birth, the midwife believed it her sacred duty to murder me.”

  Standing proudly in the gallery of Belisle Castle—the only home he had ever known—Denis de Sancerre paused in his oft-told tale, enjoying the warmth of the flames from the hearty fire at his back. The heat chased away the early autumn chill creeping into his aching bones.

  Eyeing the familiar banners wafting in the warmed air in the rafters, he adopted his usual story-telling stance—hands on hips, legs braced—and took a moment to relish the predictable open-mouthed stares. The faces of his listeners and almost imperceptible nods unwittingly betrayed their understanding of the midwife’s intentions. He always wondered who among his rapt audiences would have led the mob gathered to dispatch him to Hell.

  When he deemed enough time had passed, he continued. “Imagine. A babe not only dark and twisted, but a hated Angevin to boot. Only the strident entreaties of my mother’s maid and the intervention of Antoine de Montbryce ensured I survived more than a sennight.”

  This was the cue for Denis to furrow his bushy black eyebrows and gesture towards his stepfather. All eyes predictably followed. Though Antoine had lived three score years, he never failed to pick up the story
they had told visitors to Belisle Castle since Denis had reached an age where he took delight in mocking his own deformity.

  Antoine cleared his throat. “They came armed with pitchforks and scythes—ignorant peasants.”

  The family made light of that terrifying time a score and five years before, but Denis recognised Antoine’s enormous courage in quelling the murderous mob. He smiled and continued the story. “Struck as you are by my mother’s rare beauty, you understand why Antoine fell in love with such a stunning woman.”

  Sybilla de Montbryce blushed to the roots of her hair, still fiery red despite her age. “You embarrass me, my son.”

  “Nonsense,” he teased, knowing she loved his flattery. “Your marriage blessed me with membership in one of the most powerful families in Normandie.”

  Antoine coughed. “I might add it also protected Sybilla from execution as the widow of an enemy of William the Conqueror.”

  Denis took a deep breath. Next came the most difficult part of the tale to tell without his voice betraying his emotion. “Antoine raised me as his own son. Growing up in the bosom of a loving family formed me into the good-natured fellow you see before you today.”

  His half-brother snorted. “Not to mention the life and soul of any social gathering.”

  Antoine protested. “I disagree, Mathieu. It was God gave Denis his kindness and sense of humor, not I.”

  The guests from Caen chuckled. Some applauded politely, as he expected. Noblewomen especially enjoyed his ready wit and courtly manners. He was a curiosity, and thus no threat. They would recoil in horror if he were ever foolish enough to suggest a relationship. Women of consequence did not marry one such as he.

  Truth be told, no female of his acquaintance had ever touched his heart, and no requirement existed for him to provide heirs. The risks of procreating another deformed creature were too great, and the Sancerre estate in Anjou had been confiscated by the Conqueror years ago. Antoine’s eldest son, Adam, was the heir to Belisle.

  Antoine puffed out his chest. “Denis is too modest. His courage and valor have only added to the military renown of this family. He’s a respected warrior who has never flinched from combat alongside his brothers. His skill in a cavalry charge is well known.”

  Denis felt heat rise in his face. “Is there a woman here who would not wish for a husband like my stepfather?”

  Antoine grinned. “And I’ll wager I am the envy of every man present when they look at my beautiful wife.”

  Denis felt a familiar pang of loneliness and was relieved when Mathieu, seven years younger, took up the tale, recalling light-hearted stories from their youth.

  Maidservants entered to offer more refreshments. Denis looked expectantly at Adam. The moment had come for him to make his usual contribution of Indeed, we love our ‘little’ brother.

  The eldest of his half-brothers remained strangely silent, slumped in a chair.

  A log shifted in the hearth, giving up its life to the flames with a reluctant hiss. The visitors glanced from Denis to Adam and back again.

  Denis frowned. He loved all his siblings, but Adam was his best friend. A mere five years separated them. Adam the Giant and Denis the Dwarf were recognized and welcomed wherever they went.

  Denis left his favorite story-telling spot before the massive stone hearth and walked to Adam’s chair, reaching up to lay a hand on his shoulder. He immediately missed the warmth of the flames on his misshapen hips. “Are you ill, big brother?”

  Adam raised his head slowly.

  A chill of alarm surged through Denis. His brother’s neck was grotesquely swollen, his eyes glazed. Drool trickled from one corner of his mouth.

  Denis grasped Adam’s arm and beckoned his stepfather. “Papa, mon frère is ill.”

  Antoine came to his feet with difficulty. “What ails you, my son?”

  Their guests withdrew. Sudden illness tended to clear a room quickly. Sybilla de Montbryce made hasty apologies and summoned servants to light the visitors to their chambers. Then she knelt before her son, putting her hand over his. “He has a fever. Send for the physician, vite.”

  Adam pressed his fingers to his neck. “My throat,” he rasped, swallowing with difficulty.

  Mathieu’s face showed his concern. “I recall this happening to me years ago, when Adam was away at Domfort, visiting Oncle Hugh.”

  Their mother remembered. “Oui, you are right, les oreillons. You had recovered by the time Adam returned.”

  Antoine took hold of his son’s hand. “Let’s get him to bed.”

  Denis chafed he did not have the stature to lift his brother and carry him to his chamber.

  Mathieu cradled Adam and bore him away.

  * * *

  Adam could not swallow or speak. Fear gripped his innards. His neck and ears pained him greatly, but the agony between his legs was infinitely more worrisome. His throbbing couilles were painfully swollen. Thankfully, Mathieu had carried him, but his younger brother’s voice seemed distant, muffled.

  He must conceal his beleaguered male parts, keep secret that Adam de Montbryce, heir to Belisle Castle, had a problem with his testicles. “Merci, mon frère. I will tend to my own needs. I fear I must seek my bed. It’s but a passing malady.”

  He thought he had spoken out loud, but the drumming in his aching ears drowned out the sound.

  Mathieu placed him on the bed.

  Their mother’s face swam before his eyes. She was speaking, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. Oblivion released him only temporarily. Intensifying pain woke him some time later. The smell of burnt rosemary made him cough, adding to his agony. He must be in the infirmary—the only place in the castle with a fumitory. He threw the linens off his body and cupped his couilles to ease the discomfort. His clothes had been removed. He licked his lips. Someone gave him water that he guzzled like a man delivered from the desert. His father’s face floated into his blurred vision. His hand was eased away from his groin. “Non, please, it helps.”

  His mother leaned over him, shaking her head. Dieu! He must cover his nakedness.

  She spoke.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “What?”

  Take away the pain.

  His sister Bernadine should not be tending him either. She might be a married woman now, but still—

  The swelling had worsened. He longed for sleep. “Where is Mathieu? Denis?” he rasped.

  His father shook his head. Adam had never seen him so bereft. His brothers must have fallen ill too. He swallowed hard, pain shooting into his ears. “Am I dying?”

  His mother’s face reappeared, her red-rimmed eyes swollen, saying something.

  His throat was a dried-up well. “Je m’excuse, maman—”

  He reached for his groin again, groaning when a warm hand moved it away. “Leave me be,” he shouted. The words echoed in his ears. “Let me die,” he murmured.

  * * *

  Denis seethed for a sennight that he was not allowed to keep vigil over Adam. Mathieu was deemed safe from contagion because he had apparently had the same malady. Denis had suffered so many ailments as a child, no one recalled if he had been afflicted or not.

  As Adam’s illness worsened, Denis felt his own life slipping away. What was a Dwarf without his Giant?

  Their mother was bereft, her puffy eyes red when she returned from the infirmary. He noticed for the first time the streaks of grey at her temples. He marveled again that he was the child of such a woman, whose dignified beauty shone, despite her agony.

  He hated to increase her burden but was desperate for news. He took her hand. “How does he fare?”

  She inhaled deeply and sniffled. “The physician believes he will live. The swelling has improved.”

  Relief swept over Denis. “We must give thanks then.”

  His mother withdrew her hand and let out a long wail. “He is not whole.”

  Denis had often suffered the bitter humiliation of being looked upon as half a man. Dread coiled in his gut. His
tall, handsome, well-muscled brother not whole? “What do you mean?”

  Sybilla slumped into a chair, her hands clasped in her lap. “He cannot hear.”

  Denis was dumbfounded. “You are telling me he will not listen.”

  His mother shook her head. “Non, mon fils, he is deaf.”

  Denis pressed his fingertips to his forehead. His heart broke for Adam and for his parents. A castle such as Belisle demanded much of a Seigneur who was in possession of all his faculties.

  He resolved to help Adam with this burden. “I will be his ears until he recovers his hearing.”

  Mathieu entered the room. His pallor and grim expression alarmed Denis.

  Their mother whimpered.

  Mathieu put his arm around her shoulders. “There is more, but Maman cannot speak of it.”

  Denis ground his teeth, glaring at them. “Tell me!”

  Mathieu averted his eyes. “Our brother’s illness has wrought havoc on other parts of his body.”

  Denis frowned in confusion. Was Adam blind, lame, what? “I do not understand.”