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Bride Of The Tower. Sharon Schulze
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Автор произведения Sharon Schulze
Издательство HarperCollins
More warrior than woman, Lady Julianna D’Arcy had sworn to defend her home against all enemies. She knew not if her unexpected guest was friend or foe, but infinitely more dangerous than any adversary was the way the mere sight of William stirred her blood unlike any man she’d ever seen before!
“Have a care who you call traitor, milady, else I’ll be forced to judge you traitor instead.”
“With what reason?” she asked. “I am a true loyal subject of our king—”
“Are you? I now nothing of you, lady—not so much as who you are, or the name of this place. A lady dressed in warrior’s garb. ’Tis uncommon, you must admit—rare enough to raise questions in a curious man’s mind.”
He cupped her chin, then slid his fingers down along her neck and over her shoulder before stopping just above her breast.
“A puzzle to entice a man,” he murmured. “Or a siren meant to lure a man to your bed and render him your slave?”
Bride of the Tower
Harlequin Historical #650
Praise for SHARON SCHULZE’s recent titles
Lady of the Keep
“A warmhearted tale where love mends old wounds and broken dreams.”
—Romantic Times
The Hidden Heart
“…a medieval romance bound to break your heart, then mend it good as new.”
—Affaire de Coeur
The Shielded Heart
“A fine addition to the author’s L’Eau Clair Chronicles, and one that will make readers look forward to more!”
—Romantic Times
#647 TEMPTING A TEXAN
Carolyn Davidson
#648 THE SILVER LORD
Miranda Jarrett
#649 THE ANGEL OF DEVIL’S CAMP
Lynna Banning
Bride of the Tower
Sharon Schulze
Available from Harlequin Historicals and SHARON SCHULZE
*Heart of the Dragon #356
*To Tame a Warrior’s Heart #386
*The Shielded Heart #442
*The Hidden Heart #484
*Lady of the Keep #510
*Bride of the Tower #650
To Linda Harmon, Leslie O’Grady and Joyce C. Ware—critique partners and friends extraordinaire.
And to my wonderful editor, Melissa Endlich, with many thanks for her patience and encouragement.
Contents
Chapter One
Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire, 1217
Sir William Bowman glanced back at the big black gelding lagging along behind him. Bran had come up lame soon after they’d entered the forest, but they couldn’t stop yet. Pausing to stroke the horse’s swollen fetlock, Will murmured soothing words rather than the curses echoing through his head, gave a gentle tug on the reins and picked up his stride.
The sun disappeared behind the tall trees, leaving naught but an eerie yellow glow that made specters of the branches overhanging the narrow path. Will peered into the deepening gloom. Not true night, but close enough to warn him he’d best find shelter soon. Like a fool, he’d allowed his anger to distract him; he’d already wandered so deep into the dense forest he wondered if he’d e’er find his way out again.
He and Bran had roamed far in Lord Rannulf’s service these past weeks, a long journey nowhere near finished. What he wouldn’t give for a flask of usquebaugh and the company of a warm and willing maid at the end of this part of it! Yet thanks to Sir Richard Belleville’s overcautious nature, Will now found himself lost in Nottingham forest with an injured mount instead of lodged comfortably at the next keep along his way, where he’d planned to spend the night.
Damn Sir Richard! He’d kept Will so occupied with trivialities that he’d had no chance to leave Birkland—surely the least important of Lord Rannulf’s keeps—until well after the midday meal. Yet when Will had suggested he wait until the next morn to resume his travels, the slippery knave