Chosen for the Marriage Bed
Anne O'Brien
Language: English
Pages: 288
ISBN: 0373296223
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Elizabeth de Lacy is told she must wed her family's sworn enemy! Lord Richard Malinder must produce an heir, and a union with the de Lacy family could prove advantageous...Elizabeth has not expected to feel such intense attraction and the heat of anticipation rises as they make their way to the bridal chamber...
Conquering Knight, Captive Lady
Do with his. More satisfying even than scrying. Jane Bringsty had never warned her of that. And she drifted into unconsciousness. Richard found himself far from sleep. His attention was thoroughly caught and his mind would not let his new knowledge go. Life had not been easy for her, as Lewis had intimated, and his hatred of John de Lacy deepened. Dispassionately, he considered his impressions of her. Yes, she was slender—thin, he supposed—but not unattractive. Her skin was firm yet soft. Not at.
Hope, some measure of understanding with Elizabeth, from the cold ashes of his marriage. She had resurrected the fire and now sat in its warmth, waiting, as she had waited for him earlier that night before death had struck to tear and divide. To shatter her heart in grief. Dead. Murdered. My brother is dead. Her mind simply could not accept what her eyes had seen. Her cloak was still round her shoulders. She had not lit the candles so the room was dark and intimately shadowed, but there was no.
Lewis. ‘Perhaps. But I wish I knew…’ ‘You wish you knew whose hand was on the blade, or whose gold bought the deed. You wish you knew whether it was mine.’ Uncomfortable, embarrassed, Elizabeth frowned down at her clenched fingers, astonished at how intuitively Richard could follow her train of thought. ‘And I can do nothing to help you,’ he continued as he stretched his hand to turn her face to his. ‘Except perhaps this…’ Surprising her, he leaned forwards, his hand sliding around the nape.
Nothing more to say. I’ll leave you to your destruction of my morals, my family and my character. To your squeamish morality. I’m not in a mood for repentance.’ And, then on a final thought, ‘No one has bothered to enquire about my state of health, after being dragged to the floor!’ ‘You deserved it.’ Sympathy was entirely absent from her husband’s reply. If it was possible to flounce in tunic, hose and boots, Elizabeth did. It could not be put off longer. Giving her temper time to cool, and.
The tiniest flame, began to flutter in her breast. Richard was fighting with a disciplined rage now perfectly channelled, waging a tireless and implacable assault driven by a need for revenge, his face a graven mask. His sword beat at Sir Gilbert’s, the dagger flashed, lured and tasted blood. Elizabeth knew there would be no forgiveness here, no final mercy for the defeated. Yet the contest continued for what seemed an eternity, unreal and macabre in the cloister of Llanwardine Priory with an.