The Elusive Bride. Deborah Hale. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Deborah Hale
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Историческая литература
Год издания: 0
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      There was not enough rain in heaven to quench the heat of his desire for this woman.

      Rowan’s gaze rose to meet hers. To discover the answer to his question. What he saw confounded him.

      “Dear God, lass, don’t look at me so! Did I not say it would be your own choice? Cast me aside if you cannot love me, but don’t look on me with fear.”

      For a moment her body seemed to melt against him, eager to mingle her flesh with his. It stiffened again at his words. Had he said anything so terrible?

      Rowan gasped with shock and pain as her fingers twined in his hair and wrenched his head back.

      “Damn you, FitzCourtenay, you are a devil! Why could you not just take what you wanted? Why must you make me choose? Can you not see it will tear me apart…?

      Acclaim for Deborah Hale’s recent books

      The Bonny Bride

      “…high adventure!”

      —Romantic Times Magazine

      A Gentleman of Substance

      “This exceptional Regency-era romance includes all the best aspects of that genre…. Deborah Hale has outdone herself…”

      —Romantic Times Magazine

      “…a nearly flawless plot, well-dimensioned characters, and a flame that will set your heart ablaze with every emotion possible!”

      —Affaire de Coeur

      My Lord Protector

      “Invite yourself to this sweet, sensitive, moving and utterly wonderful tale of love from the heart.”

      —Affaire de Coeur

      The Elusive Bride

      Harlequin Historical #539

      #540 MAID OF MIDNIGHT

      Ana Seymour

      #541 THE LAST BRIDE IN TEXAS

      Judith Stacy

      #542 PROTECTING JENNIE

      Ann Collins

      The Elusive Bride

      Deborah Hale

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Available from Harlequin Historicals and DEBORAH HALE

      My Lord Protector #452

      A Gentleman of Substance #488

      The Bonny Bride #503

      The Elusive Bride #539

      For my daughter, Deidre Siobhan Hale,

      and my sister, Ivy Marion Moore. Their spirit inspired Cecily Tyrell and enriches my life.

      Contents

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Epilogue

      Chapter One

      A twig snapped under footfall.

      Its report shattered the golden hush of the glade. The girl jumped at the sound, a batch of freshly picked beans spilling from the lap of her gown. Why? she cursed herself. Why had she lagged behind the novices to steal a moment’s sweet summer solitude? Her father had sent her to the safety of this remote priory, out of the path of civil war. But in a land where every man’s hand was turned against his neighbor, safety was an illusion, and secluded places held their own special dangers.

      She willed herself to stillness, like an arrow nocked on a taut bowstring, aimed and ready for flight. By fierce concentration, she forced her breath to the pace of a reverent Ave: “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us…”

      A stirring of the underbrush drew her wary glance. Into the sun-dappled clearing stepped a man, leading a gray horse. Catching sight of the girl, he froze. For a moment they stood, each surveying the other. Her look and posture said clearly, Keep your distance. His pleaded, Don’t give me away.

      The girl saw a hard lean warrior, whose mail surcoat glinted beneath a well-worn, gray traveling cloak. His ruddy bronze complexion boldly proclaimed him a Crusader. He had the stance of a man proudly in his prime, belying the frets of silver in his dark hair and close-trimmed Norman beard.

      The man saw a lithesome, virginal figure, in a coarse-woven tunic and gown, a thick plait of lustrous chestnut hair falling over one shoulder. She reminded him of a young hind, with her delicate brown beauty and her wild, wary vulnerability.

      As the man obligingly held his ground, and the girl graciously held her tongue, each began to relax. The man’s gaze strayed hungrily to the tangles of ripe beans and vetch. He’d been traveling in haste and stealth, not sparing the time to hunt or gather food. He would grab a quick meal now, even if the lady should call an alarm.

      The girl stared greedily at the horse. How long had it been since she’d felt the firm, powerful barrel of a good mount beneath her, and the wind in her hair? She would brave any peril just to stroke the nose of that magnificent animal.

      She stooped and pulled a carrot from the ground. Carefully stepping over the rows of vegetables, she walked steadily toward the stranger