Was that someone at the door of her bedchamber? She forced herself to lie still and listen. Had Sir Walter come at last? Nothing. She released her breath—it made a white puff in the chill air. It was very late and still he hadn’t come. The covers felt rough against her naked skin and she suddenly...
Lady Yolanda heard the words but not the voice that sang them; she looked into space at the past, not at the man who sang in the present. Her thoughts were with her husband, who’d died on Crusade and now lay buried under a hot sky while Yolanda gazed out at the English rain. &nb...
It was afternoon and growing dark already; the days were short now. She’d been out gathering berries and digging in the snow for green leaves, anything fresh, that could be used in this bleak part of the Northern English winter when the household seemed to exist on salted or cured meats and last ...
Some days he was in hell, on fire, and on others he shivered as if he was in the frozen wastes of the north. Some days, like this one, he felt better. The injury to his head had been so bad that he despaired of surviving at all, and they still didn’t know if he would live or die. &nbs...
Her days at the London royal court had been hectic and it was always nice to see friends, but now she felt rather low. That was because Rowena had loved Lord Wulfrich for what seemed forever and now, finally, it was over. Wolf had found another woman to love, one who obviously loved him, and Rowe...
She looked at the empty space in the bed beside her and smiled. It had been over two years since Hamon had died and she still counted her blessings every day. As with most marriages, theirs had been arranged, for her father’s convenience, to merge their two adjoining estat...
Her heart began to beat a little faster. He was handsome, and his smile drew her like a moth to a candle, but she reminded herself to take care. Not to underestimate him. Lord Fitzallen was a clever man, and he had been King Stephen’s man for many years now, since his fami...