I'm THRILLED to share with you all an excerpt from the book!
Scottish Court, 1503
English knight, Sir Liam de Wolfe, has been charged with
escorting Princess Margaret Tudor from England to the Scottish court where she
will marry King James IV of Scotland. The newfound peace between the countries
feels foreign, but he is bound by duty to honor the treaty, and his king's
wishes. Once on Scottish soil, his attention is caught by a fiery lady--one who
intrigues him with her witty banter, her passionate eyes, and admirable
resolve. But she is Scottish, born to be his natural enemy. As much as he tries
to walk away from her, he finds himself drawn to her beacon of light.
Scottish lady, Alexandra Maxwell, has been sent to the royal
court under the guise of serving the new queen. Her parents are against the new
treaty bringing peace between Scotland and England, and want her to commit
treason, acts which Alex adamantly opposes. But how can she naysay her mother
and father? They will toss her into a convent if she refuses, and yet if she's
caught certain death awaits her at the end of a hangman's noose. To make
matters worse, she seems to be falling for the English knight who has
completely captivated her attention, whose kisses are a sweet escape from the
torment in her mind. To fall for the enemy would most assuredly mean a fall
from grace.
If Liam were to find out why Alex was really at court, he'd
not only turn against her, but he'd see her tossed into the dungeon himself.
Can a relationship between English and Scottish go beyond
that of battle? Can they trust one another? Love one another? Solve centuries
worth of warring? Is it worth the risk?
EXCERPT:
“They come!”
someone shouted.
Beside her, and
she dared not look to see who, someone grumbled, “Damned Sassenachs.”
’Twould appear
that not everyone was pleased with the king’s choice of bride. Alex didn’t like
the English, either. They’d tormented her people, and when she was young, had
ruined much of her entertainment. But for now, she mostly disliked them because
they would make her false to Scotland.
Aye, ’twas the bloody English’s fault that she was here and about to commit treason by stealing something from the king’s bride. If only the ninny had stayed in England where she belonged, Alex wouldn’t even be in this position.
Aye, ’twas the bloody English’s fault that she was here and about to commit treason by stealing something from the king’s bride. If only the ninny had stayed in England where she belonged, Alex wouldn’t even be in this position.
“Move over.” The
mumbles and shoves started from behind as the crowd shifted, trying to get a
closer look.
Alex strained to
see above their heads. Tugging her skirts out of the way of her feet when she
tried to find her balance. English flags waved from long poles as knights
walked and others rode on horseback. The trumpets and drums grew louder.
A gilded litter
came into view, the sounds of ladies chirping from atop palfreys. They were
dressed in voluminous gowns of satin, lace and velvet. Every color of the
rainbow, with jeweled hoods to match, and gloves and boots of the finest
leather. Raised on her tiptoes, Alex could barely see beyond the fabric. She
desperately wanted to get a look at the woman she was going to rob in the name
of retribution for her parents.
Moving with the
shifting crowd, she strained to remain upright as well as to see.
And then her eyes
locked on the most fearsome sight.
A knight.
He was large. Thick
with muscle, and he sat his horse tall. How tall was he? Well over six feet if
she had to guess. Plated armor covered his chest, arms, legs, the sun hitting
the steel making it glint almost gold. Though his weapons were sheathed, there
was no mistaking his deadly force. He wore a helm that covered the entirety of
his face, leaving only slits where his eyes were. They had to be black. Black
as his fierce heart.
The helmet turned
and she could swear he was looking at her. But how could he see her through the
crowd?
The shifting of
the horde of Scottish aristocrats jerked forward suddenly, throwing Alex off
balance and through the front of the crowd. Eyes widened, she stretched out her
arms, feeling herself pitching forward.
“Oh!” she cried
out. Someone was stepping on the back of her dress, which didn’t help her to
gain her footing. And then she was, indeed, pitching forward.
Cold, gauntleted
hands caught her just before she fully hit the ground.
Alex stared up
into the metal face of the knight who’d been on his horse not a second before.
Reflexes of a Highland cat, he had. Pretty impressive for an Englishman. How could he move so swiftly in such heavy metal?
Reflexes of a Highland cat, he had. Pretty impressive for an Englishman. How could he move so swiftly in such heavy metal?
She had the
sudden irrational desire to see his eyes.
“Thank ye,” she
murmured.
He lifted the
front plate of his helmet, hazel eyes penetrating hers. “A lady should never
have to feel the crush of a crowd or the dust of the road on her face.”
Alex was at a
loss for words. How could a knight as fierce as he was speak such lovely words?
Furthermore, how could a man be so beautiful? High arched cheeks, a strong jaw. A mouth that curled softly into a subtle, teasing smile. Dark tendrils of hair touched his forehead. She could get lost in the way his eyes resembled the moors.
Furthermore, how could a man be so beautiful? High arched cheeks, a strong jaw. A mouth that curled softly into a subtle, teasing smile. Dark tendrils of hair touched his forehead. She could get lost in the way his eyes resembled the moors.
A little flutter
turned her belly and, just as quickly, soured it. Disgusting! Her family would
have her stoned if they could just see her now. Batting her lashes at a Sassenach!
Alex tried to
stand, but her dress was still caught.
“Move,” the
knight said, his voice deep and commanding to the lord standing behind her,
crushing the precious fabric of her new gown.
The Scot sneered
at the English knight and then stepped aside. “Apologies,” he muttered to Alex,
but it did not feel at all like an apology.
How was it that her
own countryman treated her so rudely?
“Savages,” the
knight proclaimed.
Alex pushed his
cold, metal hands away and rose to her feet. She was not a savage. Even if the
servants at Caerlaverock Castle had called her that often enough when she went
out to dance in the rain.
Then she noticed
that the entire caravan had stopped the moment the knight leapt from his horse.
At least a dozen metal-clad men stood at attention.
“I’m no longer in
need of yer assistance,” Alex said, raising her chin and hating that all eyes
were on her. As a second thought, she added, “And I shouldn’t like to keep His
Majesty’s bride waiting.”
The Countess of
Home was surely regretting her decision to help Alex now.
The knight bowed,
then returned to his horse, his faceplate still up, the way he watched her as
he rode on did not go unnoticed by her—or anyone else.
Just as she
suspected, a pinch on her arm alerted her to the Countess’ presence. “Stupid,
lass, have ye no decorum?”
Alex looked to
the ground, hoping to appear meek, but that only made her angry. When she’d
left Caerlaverock, she’d left the insults behind. Or so she’d hoped. She jerked
her gaze up at the Countess, and said, “I was pushed and not one of my own
countrymen came to my aid. Nay, I had to be lifted by a dreaded English
knight.
So dreaded that he’d made her belly flutter
and left her with thoughts of his lips and the slight curl of a smile she’d
seen on them as he’d ridden away.
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Want to read more? Buy it here!