The Virgin Spring

The Virgin Spring
Debra Lee Brown

Though scarred by fire and betrayal, Gilchrist Mackintosh was laird of Clan DavidsonDespite those who questioned his right. And to secure his position, he must wed a Davidson woman, quickly.Then he stumbled upon the mysterious Rachel by the virgin spring, half drowned, half dressed and unable to recall her own name. Who was she? Englishwoman? Witch? No matter who she was, Rachel had managed to see beyond his scars, right to his heart. But with Gilchrist bound to marry another and Rachel's identity a mystery, love between them was forbidden. Yet he would risk his position as laird in order to save her from a traitor in their very midst….

“Ye make me dare to hope I could be again the man I was.”

“Nay, Gilchrist, never again will you be that man. And I am glad of it,” Rachel whispered, leaning closer. “For this is the man I love.”

“But you see with your own eyes what I am.” He spread wide the fingers of his fire-ravaged hand.

“And you know in your heart what I am.”

“Aye,” he breathed against her hair. “Ye are like the spring after winter’s darkness, a rare elixir, everything virtuous and good. Aye, that and more.” He brushed his lips lightly across her temple. “Which is why I must go….”

Dear Reader,

In The Bonny Bride by award-winning author Deborah Hale, a poor young woman sets sail for Nova Scotia from England as a mail-order bride to a wealthy man, yet meets her true soul mate on board the ship. Will she choose love or money? Margaret Moore, who also writes mainstream historicals for Avon Books, returns with A Warrior’s Kiss, a passionate marriage-of-convenience story and the next in her ongoing medieval WARRIOR series. Theresa Michaels’s new Western, Once a Hero, is a gripping and emotion-filled story about a cowboy who rescues a female fugitive and unexpectedly falls in love with her as they go in search of a lost treasure. For readers who enjoy discovering new writers, The Virgin Spring by Golden Heart winner Debra Lee Brown is for you. Here, a Scottish laird finds an amnesiac woman beside a spring and must resist his desire for her, as he believes she is forbidden to him.

Whatever your tastes in reading, you’ll be sure to find a romantic journey back to the past between the covers of a Harlequin Historicals novel. We hope you’ll join us next month, too!

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell,

Senior Editor

The Virgin Spring

Debra Lee Brown

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

For Jeannie

Contents

Chapter One (#u9f7b4278-0e6c-5c57-8a2b-5b17b9f381ed)

Chapter Two (#ue0430895-7b9c-5920-828d-aea89c6b3a7d)

Chapter Three (#u81925be8-bdff-55dd-af49-5fc3c7246995)

Chapter Four (#ue3e4880b-1f4b-52da-8e00-592058077f5c)

Chapter Five (#u0c0ffef7-ae84-5228-91a1-4b7de26b6355)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

The Highlands of Scotland, 1208

The girl batted gold-tipped lashes in Gilchrist’s direction then spurred her mount ahead into the forest.

“Harlot,” he muttered under his breath.

Hugh snorted. “Christ, man! If ye willna be friendly to the lass, at the least ye can be civil.”

“And why must I be civil?” Gilchrist snapped.

“Because ye are laird, and can no afford this ill temper ye bear our women.”

“Hmph.” He ducked to avoid a low hanging branch as his steed quickened his pace. “Aye, I am laird—so the elders say. But I am a Mackintosh—the clan will never accept me.”

Hugh nudged his mount closer and cocked a tawny brow. “Ye are a Davidson, too. Your mother was born and bred on this land, and ’tis here ye were raised.”

He turned in the saddle and glanced back at the Davidson warriors who rode in a tight formation behind them. A few met his gaze, but most looked away or pretended to check their weapons.