Norwyck's Lady. Margo Maguire

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Norwyck's Lady - Margo  Maguire


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      Norwyck stopped in his tracks and rubbed his eyes to clear them.

      A wave of dread overtook him as he looked upon a body lying prone in the sand. Long dark hair cloaked a narrow back, but did naught to hide pale, feminine buttocks.

      A woman.

      Anger was the first emotion he felt. A woman had been aboard that ship, and Bart’s conflicting emotions warred within him. The knight’s code had been deeply ingrained, so ’twas impossible to look upon her bruised and battered body without pity. No woman should meet such a violent and terrifying end.

      Yet he had experienced a woman’s treachery, and he would lay odds that she had somehow been responsible for the shipwreck.

      He crouched beside her and touched one shoulder, pushing her over. He did not know what he expected, but it was certainly not to cause a paroxysm of retching and coughing.

      God’s blood, she was alive!

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      Celtic Bride

      “A medieval lover’s delight!”

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      “Exquisitely detailed…an entrancing tale that will

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      “Packed with action…fast, humorous, and familiar…

      THE BRIDE OF WINDERMERE

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      #635 BOUNTY HUNTER’S BRIDE

      Carol Finch

      #636 BADLANDS HEART

      Ruth Langan

      #638 LORD SEBASTIAN’S WIFE

      Katy Cooper

      Norwyck’s Lady

      Margo Maguire

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Available from Harlequin Historicals and

      MARGO MAGUIRE

      The Bride of Windermere #453

      Dryden’s Bride #529

      Celtic Bride #572

      His Lady Fair #596

      Bride of the Isle #609

      Norwyck’s Lady #637

      This book is dedicated to Julia, Joe and Mike.

      No mother could be more proud.

      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

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       Chapter Twenty-Five

      Chapter One

      The north coast of Northumberland

      Late autumn, 1300

      The air was still, but the North Sea surf crashed violently upon the beach, as a result of the morning’s terrible storm. Dark clouds hovered over the northern cliffs and over Norwyck Keep, threatening another burst of rain.

      Bartholomew Holton, Earl of Norwyck, stalked up the beach, oblivious to the weather. His tall, powerful form was garbed in his usual dark tunic and hose, though he’d worn a cloak in deference to the harsh weather.

      He cared not for clothing, or fashion, especially not now, while circumstances at Norwyck weighed so heavily upon him. His elder brother William’s untimely death had made Bartholomew earl. His new responsibilities disconcerted him, and his wife’s treachery and subsequent death preyed upon his heart and mind.

      Felicia Holton had done the unthinkable. She had betrayed Bartholomew’s elder brother, delivering him to their Scottish neighbors to the north, the brutal and barbaric Armstrongs.

      ’Twas nearly a year now since William, Earl of Norwyck, had died at the hand of Lachann Armstrong, and Felicia herself had lost her own life soon thereafter in childbed, bearing an Armstrong bastard.

      Bartholomew continued down the beach, brooding, heedless of Norwyck’s massive walls looming above the shore. He sorely missed his brother. He had never dreamed of being lord of this place, for Norwyck had always been Will’s legacy. William, lighthearted and fair, who seemed always to know what was expected, how to handle every situation. He’d had the respect of every Norwyck knight, including their father’s old adviser, Sir Walter.

      Upon his return from the wars in Scotland, Bartholomew’s only wish was to retire to the demesne granted him by King Edward, enriched by the lands


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