What is a Highlander to do when he falls for the daughter of
his enemy?
Highland warrior, Blane Sutherland, has
one mission: disguise himself as an Englishman, cross the border and retrieve
Lady Aliah de Mowbray. Always up for a challenge, he agrees, pursuing his
conquest with vigor—and trying to deny the powerful desire that eclipses him
each time he touches his charge. A rogue of the highest order and a younger
son, he has nothing to offer a lady but a broken heart.
And what is a lady to do when she cannot trust her heart?
Aliah is skeptical of the English noble
who has come to take her to her father and sister in Scotland, but she pushes
her doubts aside. Without word in months, she must make certain her family is
safe, then she can return to England to join the convent to which she has sworn
to pledge her life. But then her escort reveals his true self—he’s a Highlander
and his kisses are more seductive than the sweetest of wines.
Surrender never tasted so sweet…
“An author with a natural gift for story telling…” ―Victoria
Roberts, acclaimed author of Temptation
in a Kilt
"Sweet, funny, sensual and deliciously intriguing! You don't
want to miss another of Ms. Knights HOT adventures through the Highlands!" -- Andrea Snider, Reader Review
Here's an excerpt from Chapter One:
Late Fall
Northern England, 1297
A violent banging at the manor door startled
Aliah from her studies and set Frosty, the family’s monstrous Irish wolfhound,
to barking ferociously. Aliah jerked backward against the oak chair she sat in,
hitting her head against the ancient wood and stifling a harsh word beneath her
breath.
Her father, Baron de Mowbray, had
left a small contingent of men to protect her while he escorted her older sister
Arbella to her bridegroom in Scotland. These men would fight to keep her safe
until their very last breaths.
But who was to say they hadn’t
already taken that last shuddering inhale?
Aliah glanced around the room,
filled with memories, but not with people. Today, her maid Glenda was her only
companion. Well, Frosty as well—who in fact was a far superior protector than
her maid. Swallowing her fear, she rubbed the ache from the back of her head
and squared her shoulders. Strength. That was what she needed, even if the
sound of someone knocking made her want to run to the opposite end of the manor
and hide.
Her father should have returned a
month ago. The only news she’d managed to garner was that a battle took place
at Stirling Bridge in Scotland—the very place her sister was to marry.
Had the battle now come to her own
door?
Aliah jumped as a strong fist once
again slammed the door.
“Glenda, would you answer the door?”
Aliah asked.
’Twas Saturday morning and most of
the servants had gone to tend family or to enjoy themselves in whatever way
they did, leaving Aliah quite alone—and at the mercy of whoever stood outside
her door. Could they have dispensed of her father’s guards so quickly?
Glenda, afraid of her own shadow,
started to shake her head, but Aliah gave her a stern look. The woman had been
driving her mad since she was a babe and ever since Arbella left, Aliah had
little patience for the older woman’s nonsense.
Aliah set down the book of Gaelic
she’d been studying—she was determined to learn the language because she
secretly believed the Scots would soon invade. Understanding their barbaric
conversations was crucial. Aliah smoothed her gown and stood tall.
Glenda scurried toward the door,
Frosty a foot ahead of her.
Aliah tried to find comfort in the
fact that perhaps the guards had allowed whoever came knocking through the
manor gates. She’d heard no clanging of metal or yells of pain. Aye, the only
conclusion that made sense was, they were not enemies, but friends.
She could use a good friend. The
comfort of someone she knew. Aliah frowned. She had few friends, and seldom was
it that they dropped by.
So who had the audacity to
practically beat down her door?
“Wait!” Aliah shouted just as Glenda
touched the wooden plank barring the door.
She hurried to retrieve her bow and
an arrow from beneath her chair. As swiftly as possible, she cocked an arrow
and aimed it at the door. Taking a deep breath, she nodded for her maid to open
it. If her father’s enemies dared to come after her, they were in for a big
surprise, she wouldn’t surrender so easily.
An interminable amount of time
seemed to pass before the door was fully open. Aliah stepped back, speechless.
Standing before her was the most staggeringly handsome man she’d ever seen—and
he was quite alone. Frosty growled for only a moment, quickly silenced by a
motion the stranger made with his hand. What? How had he done that? Aliah struggled
to keep her mouth from falling open at the man’s effortless command of the dog.
The animal had favored her sister, but since Arbella had left, Frosty refused
to leave Aliah’s side.
She felt a certain amount of
betrayal at Frosty’s easy acceptance of this stranger. Who in the name of God was
he? And why didn’t one of her father’s men escort him? She’d have to speak with
them about that later.
The visitor wore an intriguing cap of
deep burgundy, a dark feather jutting from the side, held on by some sort of
medallion. A thick black wool cloak lay open to reveal a matching tunic, and leather
studded armor. White hose outlined the shape of his legs in a way that drew her
eyes from his intense dark green gaze. His boots were made of soft, expensive-looking
leather, and the gilded belt at his waist held a gleaming, sharp sword that was
hard to miss.
Aliah allowed her gaze to travel
over the length and breadth of his solid form, before getting ahold of herself.
“Will you shoot me, my lady?” His
voice was deep, raspy, and stroked along the ends of her nerves in a way that
made her want to run away and kiss him at the same time.
Where had that thought come from?
She’d never kissed a man. And she never would. She’d pledged her life and
future to God. Shame crawled through her making her cheeks heat with
embarrassment. Even her toes felt the blush of such a carnal thought.
Aliah had to gain some control of
her wayward mind. Her life belonged to the church—penance for having caused her
mother’s death. There was no room for kissing or men in her life. Not even for
a thought.
“Apologies, sir, but one can never
be too careful. I am Lady Aliah.” She kept her arrow pointed at his heart,
taking note of how his tunic and leather studded armor strained over what
appeared to be a very broad, taut chest.
“Sir Blane of Yorkshire.” He doffed
his cap and bowed low, then returned upright, settling his cap back in place.
She tilted her head, studying the
angles and lines of his face, taking in the pleasant smile of his wide, full
lips. He didn’t appear to be someone she should be wary of, but as she’d
learned over the years, looks could oft be deceiving. Aliah flicked her gaze
toward her maid who wrung her hands and looked ready to bolt from the room.
Deciding that for the moment he did
not have any designs to harm her, Aliah disarmed her arrow and lowered the bow.
“Welcome to Mowbray Manor, Sir Blane. Have you any men with you?”
“Aye, I’ve left them by the stables.
I assure you, we come on friendly terms.”
Aliah nodded, making her lips thin
so as to keep them from trembling. Did he come with news of her father, of
Arbella? She shivered. The news must not be good. If her father were able, he
would announce his return himself. Her spirits lowered, replaced by a dull,
cold pulse.
He smiled, disarming her, his lips
curving in a rascally way that set her to shivering and then to quickly
reciting a Hail Mary in her mind for penance.
“I come with a message, my lady. If
I may?” He swept out his hand, asking permission to fully enter their great
hall.
She nodded again, not sure she could
trust her voice.
Glenda backed away, but Aliah
quickly caught her gaze. “Fetch our guest some refreshment.” She motioned for
Sir Blane to sit at the long trestle table. “There is no need to wait, please
tell me what news you bring.”
Sir Blane pulled out her chair
before taking his own seat, and she disliked how that chivalrous move made her
feel warm and tingly inside.
“I come from Scotland, my lady.”
She felt the blood rush from her
face, but quickly recovered. There could only be one thing he needed to relay
and she was positive she was not ready to hear it. Just then, Glenda returned
setting down a pitcher of watered wine and two glasses. She left again, coming
back several moments later with a trencher of hard cheese, a few apples and day
old brown bread. After setting down the food, Glenda made a hasty retreat from
the room.
Aliah
poured his wine and pushed the goblet towards him, then snatched an apple from
the trencher. Slicing a
piece, she bit into it, hoping the man would eat and forget that she’d asked to
hear the news.
But alas, that was not to be. After
a hearty bite of cheese and bread, Sir Blane’s green eyes met hers. “My lady, I
come with a message from your father. He and your sister are well and wish you
to accompany them in Scotland for a spell.”
“They are well?” Her voice sounded
weak to her own ears and her heart pounded against her ribs.
“Aye, heartily so.”
Aliah released a shuddering breath. “And
Arbella, is she married then?”
A strange expression briefly crossed
his face before disappearing. “Aye.”
What did that expression mean? “Is
she happy?”
“I believe so.”
But would the man say otherwise?
’Twas really none of his business whether or not her sister was happy, and if
he were truly just the messenger then he wouldn’t know anyway.
“How can I know you speak the
truth?”
As if the sting of Frosty’s earlier
betrayal was not enough, the great wolfhound sidled up to Sir Blane and nuzzled
him in the ribs. Absently, the man rubbed Frosty behind his ears.
“My lady, I come with direct orders
from your sister. Arbella told me herself to tell you that it pained her not to
have you at the wedding with her, and that she hoped you’d help her to settle
into her new home.”
Aliah frowned. Was he telling her
the truth? It made no sense. Hadn’t Arbella told her not to come before she
left? So what changed her mind? Why would Arbella say such a thing? Aliah had
agreed for her own personal reasons. Reasons no one knew about. If Blane were
telling the truth, this would surely hinder her plans. There were only a few
short months before spring and Aliah was due to present herself to Mother Superior,
never to leave the convent again. Although her sister wasn’t aware of that,
going to Scotland to be with her sure did put a glitch in her arrangements if
it meant Aliah couldn’t return in time.
“Your father sent this.” Sir Blane
reached into his pocket and pulled out a rolled scroll.
The seal was plain wax. “My father’s
seal is not on this missive.” Aliah handed it back, intent now on figuring out
a way to escape. Who was this man and why was he trying to lure her away from
her home? A sense of unease made her suspicious.
Sir Blane didn’t even bat an eye.
“Ah, yes. Your father knows you well. As I told you, there was a battle. He
lost his seal during the encounter and bid you forgive him for such.”
“Was he injured?”
The knight shook his head. “Not overly
so. A few scrapes and bruises.”
“And Arbella—”She sucked in a breath
and held it, regaining her composure. “Was she near the skirmish?”
Again that odd look crossed Sir
Blane’s face. “No, she was perfectly protected.”
Aliah broke the seal and read the short,
two-lined note stating her presence was requested in Scotland. It was signed by
her father. His script appeared shaky, but that was not alarming as he’d just
been in a battle. After rolling up the parchment, she set it aside and returned
her attention to her guest.
Should she trust him? Could she
trust him? Her father may have been forced to sign the missive. But why? What
could Sir Blane possibly want with her? If the knight had her father and her
sister, taking her wouldn’t further his cause. Aliah’s instincts were failing
her. Saints preserve me!
He tore off a hunk of bread, bit
into it and chewed as his eyes roved over the room. She took the opportunity to
study his features. His skin was darkened from the sun, and a brush of stubble
covered his cheeks and chin. Aliah fought the urge to reach out and brush her
fingers over it to see how rough it was. She would be doing penance for a month
if Mother Superior knew the thoughts going through her mind. Pledging herself
to God meant she should not care about the texture of his face. It meant that
the way he smiled should not make her melt.
Aliah watched in utter fascination
as his throat bobbed after taking a swallow of wine. “’Tis a homey place you
have here,” he murmured.
Aliah glanced away from him and stared
at the walls covered in tapestries her mother, grandmother and several other
generations of Mowbray women had woven. Some depicted battle scenes, victories,
while others showed glorious moments in their family’s history, like a man
being knighted, or the birth of an heir. A few even depicted warm moments that
she missed the most—especially the one that embodied her mother, with Aliah,
Arbella and their brother Samuel as small children, playing at her feet—a
moment that had never come to pass. The latter was sewn by her aunt some years after
Aliah’s mother’s death as a comfort to the family. But to Aliah it was a
constant reminder of what she didn’t have. She still felt an empty void where
the love of a mother should be.
“Aye, I suppose it is.” She glanced
back at him. “Is your home not so?”
He shook his head, his eyes
saddening. She wanted to ask why, what made his mood change, but didn’t. That
would have been awkward coming from someone he barely knew. And she didn’t want
to offer him the chance to get more personal, even if it were only on a basic
level.
His face cleared and Sir Blane
pushed back from the table. “I hate to rush you, my lady, but we must be going
now. ’Tis a long journey to our destination and the weather will soon be
turning surly.”
Glenda gasped. Aliah had not
realized her maid had returned, and she threw a disgusted look in Glenda’s
direction. She knew what Glenda was thinking—that if Aliah were to leave she
would surely die of the cold—and Aliah was also aware that it was utter rubbish.
Glenda had been filling the girls’ ears with rumors and terrors of the Scots
since they were babes, and while Arbella had taken them to heart, Aliah knew
better—but only by accident. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but one evening
after Glenda had consumed too much wine, Aliah heard her confess to another
maid that her own mother had told her those things. And everyone knew that
Glenda’s mother was mad.
Aliah had only ever met a Scot once
—a woman in fact, who’d been married to a neighboring lord, and she’d been the
epitome of grace and calm. If it weren’t for her Scottish burr, Aliah would
have thought she was an English noblewoman. She’d begged to go with her father
when he made the trek to congratulate them on their wedding and he’d acquiesced
since Arbella and Samuel were both busy with their studies.
Ever since meeting the Scottish
Woman, Aliah never paid much attention to Glenda’s rantings. And so, she didn’t
mind the journey to Scotland for the cold, she minded it for another reason
entirely.
“I shall need an escort.”
“Aye, indeed, my lady, I shall
provide you escort.”
She shook her head. “No, that won’t
do.”
He gazed at her quizzically. “Why
not?”
“I’ll need a female companion.”
He pointed to her maid. “This one
shall do.”
Aliah rolled eyes at the choking
noise that Glenda made. “Glenda does not travel.”
A hint of knowledge glowed in his
green eyes. “That is Glenda?” He nodded. “Makes sense now.”
“You’ve heard of her?”
“Oh, aye. Your sister speaks of her
often.” His smile was catching and she found herself returning it.
“What did she say?”
“What manner of horrid things we—I
mean the Scots—would do to her.”
What did he mean by we?
He picked up his glass of wine and
chugged it. Perhaps the slip of his tongue was the wine, or lack of sleep. If
he knew of Glenda from her sister—and she could only imagine what Arbella had
said—she could trust him, couldn’t she?
“Where is it exactly that we shall
travel to?” she asked.
“The Highlands, my lady.”
A chill caught her and she tried to
downplay the gooseflesh rising on her arms. “And what is my family doing there?
I thought their destination was Stirling?”
“’Tis where they are seeking
shelter. Stirling is in a bit of unrest.” He waved his hand, dismissing the
topic. “We must depart, my lady. Pack a satchel or two. That is all. We can
send for more things if they are needed. But we must ride quickly and too much
baggage will hold us back.”
Aliah sensed urgency in his tone,
which made her wary. But all the same, this man knew her father and sister and
said he would take her to them. She needed to see that they were safe, before
she was cut off from the world by entering into the church where she would take
a vow of silence for a year. She hesitated for a moment. He had to be telling
the truth, didn’t he? She had her doubts but she didn’t have any other choice
but to trust him. Her father and Arbella might need her help. How could she
give herself over to the church if she gave into her fears and didn’t help her
father and Arbella in their time of need? Reluctantly she stepped forward,
tilted her chin and met his gaze.
“I will be ready within a half-hour.
Would you care for a bath or some other comfort while you wait?”
He shook his head. “I thank you, my
lady, for the generous offer, and while I would relish a bath, there is simply
not enough time. I will see to my men and procure a mount for you.”
Aliah nodded for Glenda to follow as
she made her way upstairs to her chamber. Once inside, her maid broke into a
terrified litany, chewing her fingernails to the quick. “My lady, you cannot go
with him. You don’t know who he is, and he could be a barbarian himself for all
you know. He will cook you up for dinner. He could have done the same to your
sister and your father—absorbed their souls—and that is the only way he knew you
were here.”
Rolling her eyes heavenward, Aliah
threw open her wardrobe and pulled out a leather satchel that her father had
given her. “Glenda, stop your blubbering. You saw yourself he was English and
he had a letter from my father.”
“Oh, I… Oh…” Glenda rushed around
the room, doing nothing productive whatsoever. The woman opened the wardrobe
wider, banging the door into Aliah’s shoulder before shutting it again. She
rushed to poke at the non-existent fire, then turned to mess with the coverlet
on Aliah’s bed. “You will at least pack your bow?”
“And my arrows,” Aliah said
sarcastically. She pulled a couple gowns, shifts and hose from the wardrobe and
tucked them into the satchel. “Help me change into a more suitable riding
gown.”
Glenda clucked and tugged at Aliah’s
gown until she shoved the maid’s hands away and finished the job herself. The
woman was completely useless.
“Be cautious, my lady.”
“I assure you, Glenda, I will not
let any man put my bones in his beard, nor shall I succumb to death from the cold.”
She’d almost forgotten to get her cloak. She pulled out the black wool,
fur-lined cloak, and then switched from slippers to her sturdy leather boots.
“Oh, I do hope that is the case, my
lady. Arbella seems to have made it alive. Which leads me to believe you might
also.”
“Your encouragement overwhelms me.”
Aliah bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Fare thee well,
Glenda.”
Tears brimmed in the older woman’s
eyes. Despite her fear of the Scots and all the crazy notions she’d filled their
heads with, Glenda meant well, and had been the only motherly figure Aliah had ever
known. Dropping her satchel, she pulled her maid in for a hug, breathing in the
scent of bread and rosemary that always seemed to cling to her. She would miss
her.
“I shall return soon, Glenda.” She
wished to tell her maid of her promise to the church and that she intended to
grace the sanctuary’s threshold come the first day of spring, but word would
get to her father who was certain not to agree. As much as she wanted to tell
Glenda, she couldn’t take the chance.
Glenda nodded, wiping a tear with
her sleeve. “I shall pray for your safety.”
“I thank you.” Before she lost the
courage she’d summoned to embark on this sudden journey, Aliah quit the room
and the only home she’d ever known.
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Did you miss The Highlander's Reward, BOOK ONE: The Stolen Bride Series?
She belonged to
another… But was destined to be his…
Lady Arbella de Mowbray abhors the idea of marrying an English
noble occupying Scotland. When she arrives in Stirling, she is thrown into the midst
of a full battle between the Scots and the English. Besieged by rebels, she is
whisked from her horse by a Highland warrior who promises her safety. But when
he kisses her she fears she's more in danger of losing herself.
The last thing Magnus Sutherland wants is to marry the beautiful
English lass he saved. As the laird of his clan, he has a responsibility to his
clan and allies. But when Arbella is attacked by one of his own men, he
determines the only way to keep her safe is to make her his. A decision that
promises to be extremely satisfying.
Magnus brings Arbella to his home of Dunrobin Castle in the
Highlands. And that’s where the trouble begins… Their countries are at war
and they should be each other’s enemy. Neither one considered their mock
marriage would grow into a deeply passionate love. What’s more, they were both
unhappily betrothed and those who've been scorned are out for
revenge. Can their new found love keep them together or will
their enemies tear them apart?
“Eliza Knight has crafted a wonderfully entertaining,
emotional and sensual read. I loved the sizzling romance and the exciting
adventures. Magnus, the hot Highland hero, stole my heart just as he did
Arbella’s.” Vonda Sinclair, Award-Winning author of Scottish romance
Visit me at...
Twitter @ElizaKnight
3 comments:
I just finished book1 and very much enjoyed it. I will purchase book 2
Dear Eliza, you are only the second author I have ever wrote to. I more then enjoyed book 1. Thank you for the hours of enjoyment.
Thank you Suzanne!! You're welcome, I'm so glad you're enjoying the series!!!
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