Chapter 451: Pride Comes Before the Fall
Sitting in Owain’s lap made the meal somewhat awkward, especially when a certain appendage made its presence not so subtly known. At a certain size, some things were simply impossible to ignore, and when Jocelynn realized that it wasn’t the hilt of Owain’s dagger that pressed up against her thigh, she had to suppress a deeply satisfied smile at the knowledge of the effect she was having on the man she would soon marry.
For now, however, she adjusted her position to face him more directly, one arm draped casually around his broad shoulders while she did her best to outline her plans to exploit the Hanrahan Barony’s weaknesses in order to entice the Guild Masters into accepting grants of land at the edges of the Barony.
"Baron Ian Hanrahan hasn’t expanded his holdings by more than a few fields of weat in all the years he’s been baron," Jocelynn explained, shifting slightly in Owains lap and drawing a shuddering breath from him in response as her thigh pressed up against what certainly wasn’t the hilt of his dagger.
"He’s been riding high on the gains from your father’s campaign against Airegead Mountain from before I was even born," she continued, pretending not to notice the effect she was having on him as she stretched to reach her own cup of wine, revealing the expanse of her pale bosom in the process. "But his treasury is dwindling every year, and he doesn’t have much to offer to his son Bastian beyond a lack of debts."
"You don’t have to look further than my Steward Hugo to understand that the Hanrahans are soft," Owain snorted, fighting to maintain his focus on the conversation while Jocelynn squirmed in his lap. "His brother barely survived falling off his own horse for light’s sake!"
"They get by because the cat demons rarely leave their mountain," Jocelynn said, sharing the opinion she’d formed after listening to the gossip from the other ladies of the Lothian court. Despite turning thirty, Bastian Hanrahan remained unmarried, and he wasn’t known to have collected any trophies from slaying the fiercely predatory cat-like demons who stalked the wilderness of Airgead Mountain as though it was their private hunting preserve.
Because he made for such a pathetic seeming heir, there were persistent rumors that the Hanrahan Barony would be stripped from their family after the next war in order to reward some new generation of heroes who would fight more aggressively to expand the march.
None of the other barons were willing to gamble their daughters, even if they were second or third daughters, on a house they felt was doomed to fall in the next few years. A few aging knights had made the attempt to offer their daughters, but Baron Hanrahan seemed offended at the notion of his heir ’marrying down’, creating a situation that was increasingly grim for the Hanrahan family. It was no wonder they tried hitching their cart to Owain’s horses, sending their bastard Hugo to serve as his Steward in the hopes that it would earn enough of the future Marquis’s favor to change their fate.
"The Hanrahans lack industry," Jocelynn explained, tracing a finger lightly along the lower edge of Owain’s pectoral muscle as though it marked the boundary of the Hanrahan’s terrain. "Even if Airgead Mountain is beyond their domain," she added, tracing her finger briefly across the firm nipple that crowned his powerful chest like a summit to be conquered.
"They still have opportunities to mine more common ores in the western hills," she said, tracing her hand back lower. "But they’re too frightened to do it. They clear-cut the lumber from the hills years ago, but ever since then, the land lays all but untouched," she said, resting her hand on his firm muscles as if to encompass all of the available lands.
"There’s a good reason to be frightened," Owain pointed out, tapping Jocelynn on the nose before his hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body up close against his chest as he lowered his head to whisper directly in her ear.