The Knight's Bride

The Knight's Bride
Lyn Stone

Sir Alan Of Strode Was A Man Of His WordBut when his promise to fulfill his dying friend's last wish saw him marriage-bound to the man's widow, Alan wished his own sense of duty not quite so strong. For the Lady Honor was not aptly named. And how could he, a man of truth, ever trust a bride who had already played him false?With a babe on the way and a rejected suitor in hot pursuit, Honor needed a protector she could control, not a Highland warrior. Alan was proving to be the most intractable of husbands, and what was worse, the rogue had somehow managed to scale her defenses, and lay siege to her heart… .

“He has commanded us to wed this day! (#u862c2b4b-856f-50d0-a083-0113d84a1a30)Letter to Reader (#u42f24b6d-4bfc-5472-a9cd-644044924dbe)Title Page (#u4bbd26d6-5f5c-56d9-8da7-f8190e383ee1)About the Author (#u06c8f30c-7547-563a-9c40-74182a62ee00)Dedication (#u864ef61a-3cc3-5be4-a2e8-35a5049a042e)Prologue (#ua2a6dfde-03fa-586f-9934-3ec7ff18d26d)Chapter One (#u717d91c1-941c-51da-9dd5-2b9064f1ab13)Chapter Two (#u29a6b8b8-55d4-56f5-877a-bf549cf61c00)Chapter Three (#u86b9f5ce-7e8a-577a-9151-7d66c3815dcc)Chapter Four (#u8ffbc428-3ea0-5f88-9ab1-14890df6607d)Chapter Five (#u889f1f70-2480-563b-94d8-a6f883a65b5e)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)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“He has commanded us to wed this day!

“He demands that I marry a—”

“A what?”

“A Highland savage,” she retorted, shaking a finger under his nose. “Mais oui, I can tell by your speech that is what you are, despite that fine mail you wear! And ignorant, as well, by your own admission!”

“Unlettered, Lady. ’Tis not the same as ignorant. And devil take ye with all yer plaguey French airs! Ye’re still a Scot yourself!”

“Praise God, only half!” she shouted.

“Then I wish to God ’twas the upper half with the mouth!”

She gaped. “Why would my late husband do this to me?” she demanded.

“Well, how d’ye think I feel?” Alan countered. “Trapped, is what! Bound by a stout chain of friendship reaching inta the very grave. I’d as lief fall on my dirk as surrender my freedom, but my word’s my word, by God!”

Dear Reader,

If you’ve never read a Harlequin Historical novel, you’re in for a treat. We offer compelling, richly developed stories that let you escape to the past—written by some of the best writers in the field!

Author Lyn Stone is one of those writers. Since her debut in March 1997 with The Wicked Truth, Lyn has sold five more romances. Her warm and entertaining writing style has captured the attention of many critics, including Publishers Weekly, which has reviewed all of her previous Harlequin Historical

novels, and claims that she “creates characters with a refreshing naturalness.” This month’s The Knight’s Bride is about a very true knight who puts his honorable reputation on the line when he’s forced to marry the beautiful widow of his best friend. It’s great!

Be sure to look for Burke’s Rules by the talented Pat Tracy. This is an adorable story about a Denver schoolmistress who falls for the “protective” banker who helps fund her school. Pride of Lions is the latest in Suzanne Barclay’s highly acclaimed SUTHERLAND SERIES. Two lovers are on opposite sides of a feud in this tale of danger and passion set in medieval Scotland.

Rounding out the month is The Heart of a Hero by Judith Stacy. Here, a bad boy turned rancher has thirty days to prove he’ll be a good father to his niece and nephew, and enlists the help of the new schoolmarm. Don’t miss it!

Whatever your tastes in reading, you’ll be sure to find a romantic journey back to the past between the covers of a Harlequin Historical

novel.

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell, Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Harlequin Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

The Knight’s Bride

Lyn Stone

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

LYN STONE

A painter of historical events, Lyn decided to write about them. A canvas, however detailed, limits characters to only one moment in time. “If a picture’s worth a thousand words, the other ninety thousand have to show up somewhere!”

An avid reader, she admits, “At thirteen, I fell in love with Brontë’s Heathcliff and became Catherine. Next year I fell for Rhett and became Scarlett. Then I fell for the hero I’d known most of my life and finally became myself.”

After living four years in Europe, Lyn and her husband, Allen, settled into a log house in north Alabama that is crammed to the rafters with antiques, artifacts and the stuff of future tales.

This book is for my Allen the True.

Thank you for all the promises kept

and for the happily ever after we share.

Prologue

Near Stirling, Scotland

June, 1314

Alan of Strode grimaced at the sickly sweet smell of impending death. Putrefaction. The fever raged now. Tavish would be damned lucky to see the morrow dawn. Alan’s own wound, superficial by comparison, ached with empathy.

“Four days,” Alan said, forcing the smile into his voice, “Five at most, and your lady can tend ye. We’ll make it, Tav.”

Carefully ignoring the groans Tavish struggled to suppress, Alan busied himself raking through one of the many English packs he had captured as spoils. He unfolded a crimson silk surcoat embellished with a yellow griffin. Rich stuff, he thought, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.

Another foray yielded an ornate silver cup, which he filled from his own humble flask of good Scots spirits. “See how much more of this ye can hold, Tav. Ye’ll still hurt, but ye won’t care.”

Tavish pushed it away. “Only numbs me from the chin up. Have you a quill in there?” he asked, his voice choked with pain.

Alan poked deeper into the hidebound pouch. “Aye,” he answered as cheerfully as he could manage, “parch and ink as well. Ye’ve a mind to write, then?”

Tavish nodded slightly and exhaled the words, “To Honor. Help me sit.”

A half hour later, Tavish Ellerby made a final, stronger scribble and let the feather fall from his hand. “Done.” His weary eyes rested a moment under their grime-crusted lids before he met Alan’s steady gaze. “See if you...agree.”

“To this?” Alan asked, biting his bottom lip. He touched the page of slanting marks that meant nothing to him.

“Orders for my lady,” Tavish explained through gritted teeth. His white-knuckled hands clutched the moth-chewed blanket as his breathing grew labored and irregular. “Good plan, eh?”

Alan followed the wavering lines of lampblack ink and came to rest on the larger, ornate loops at the bottom. “Well writ, Tav.” He tapped the parchment with the back of his fingers and smiled. “’Tis braw advice. She’ll be minding ye, too, if I’ve aught to say to it.” His friend’s peace of mind justified Alan’s small pretense. And the Lady Honor would take comfort in her husband’s last thoughts and wishes, no matter what they were.