Chapter One

      Yorkshire Coast, 1344

      Simon of Longford cursed the Fates as he began writing the missive he’d most hoped to avoid.

      “Send men and supplies for siege,” he began, his pen scrawling awkwardly across the parchment draped over his knee. He sat on a downed tree as the sun rose to its peak. This was a battle he could not afford, but he had no choice if he wanted to protect his daughter. He had to fight to regain the bride and the dowry that he’d been promised.

      His squire, a sulky boy of thirteen who sat beside him in a Yorkshire forest, threw dice while Simon balanced the writing implements on his thigh.

      “Do you hear that?” Will asked suddenly.

      “What?” Simon paused, unwilling to be caught by surprise in the land of his enemy.

      No sooner had he asked than a woman’s voice, lifted in song, answered.

      “For the maiden she said unto me...” A tune trilled along the spring breeze, the feminine notes just barely catching his ear from higher up the hill.

      They sat in thick woods outside Glen Rising Keep, a stronghold Simon had studied for the past three days in an effort to determine the fortress’s vulnerabilities. Simon did not trust the evaluation of any man save himself, so he’d dragged his squire into the forest surrounding the keep to scout the lands. He’d come to the conclusion that he would need at least twelve men to infiltrate the keep under cover of night and obtain what he wanted from it.

      One Lady Matilda of Glen Rising, his former betrothed. A woman now denied him, thanks to her greedy sire. Worse, Simon’s six-year-old daughter Rowena had been denied the mother that Simon had promised her. After losing his first wife three years ago, Simon was on a mission to give Rowena more than a nursemaid as a replacement. During the first year after his wife’s death, he’d been away from home on business for the king. By the time he’d understood the need to replace his wife, he’d been slowed by the politics of an appropriate match.

      His little girl’s slow development would put her at risk in a world where any defect was viewed as a form of idiocy, and an excuse for the king to seize the family’s assets. Henry III had created the law during his reign, and it allowed the crown to steal guardianship of people afflicted with insanity and make a predatory land grab along with it. Simon would protect Rowena from coming under royal scrutiny at any cost. No matter that Edward III now sat on the throne—one king was as greedy as the next in Simon’s eyes.

      “Never again will I hold thee...” The voice continued, animated and slightly louder, as if the songstress drew near.

      William straightened from his dice game, craning his neck toward the sound. “Perhaps it is a shepherdess up to mischief,” he guessed. “Or a washerwoman finding her way home for the day?”

      Simon set the quill and parchment aside, tucking the materials into a leather satchel to craft the missive later. This wandering female could be of use to his cause. No woman would be out here unaccompanied unless she came from Glen Rising.

      And Simon was ready to gamble since his time had run out to retrieve Lady Matilda. He had never met Matilda, but the earl had sworn an oath to him a year ago, giving Simon enough of a dowry to begin reinforcing his keep on lands nearby. In turn, Simon had sent his future bride a ruby necklace his grandfather had brought back from a long-ago Crusade. With the bargain struck, Simon had begun work on his stronghold, needing to create an impregnable fortress to deter any invaders that might discover his daughter’s condition. Unfortunately, the greedy earl had gotten the idea to offer his fair daughter to the highest bidder instead, leaving Simon with stonemasons he could not pay and a child more vulnerable than ever. Not to mention, he was not without his family’s most precious heirloom.

      Now, it was rumored that Lord Ulric entertained several nobles and an announcement of Lady Matilda’s new betrothal was imminent. Simon had to act quickly to stake an irrefutable claim to the maid.

      “Unless you prove your loyalty!” The songstress hit a high note with enthusiasm. And as she did, the sound of her tripping through the brush became more apparent.

      Simon put his finger to his lips to signal for quiet, then tugged on William’s arm before he whispered, “Take the horse to the south and wait for me at camp.”

      If young Will had been sulky before, he turned fully sullen now, his eyebrows swooping down in dark furrows. No doubt the boy wanted a glimpse of the mystery woman, as he’d reached the age when all females seemed exotic and enticing. Especially those who ventured too far from home.

      Alone.

      Still, the young man did as he was bade, moving silently thanks to hours of practice these past three days when they’d surveyed the perimeter of Glen Rising in search of breaks in the wall. Did the warbling maid know of an opening they had missed? Perhaps she would save Simon valuable resources in gaining access to Glen Rising.

      A few moments of softer humming helped orient him to her direction while Will disappeared with his horse.

      “And I said, won’t you have pity?” The high-pitched question rang out through the forest in simple melody, startling a rabbit that hopped over Simon’s foot. “Such pleasure you would ne`er forget.”

      The maid’s ballad took a decidedly bawdy turn, tugging an unexpected grin from his lips. When was the last time he had indulged himself? His quest for vengeance on the lord of Glen Rising had left little room for the pleasures the maid celebrated in questionable harmony.

      Now, creeping forward to position himself behind a craggy hawthorn tree, Simon prepared to snare his prey. He would not risk a chase through the brush and perhaps alert a sentinel on the walls of Glen Rising. Better to catch her cleanly. Quietly.

      The woman hummed as she walked, her tune increasing in volume with each step, alerting Simon to the exact moment he needed to reach out and...

      “Oh!” A startled squeak was the only sound she made before he clamped a hand over her mouth and an arm around her waist.

      She wore a long, hooded cloak that put her features in shadow and shrouded her body, but she felt wholly feminine beneath the supple wool garment as she twisted in vain against him.

      “The sooner you are still and quiet, the sooner I will release you,” he promised, speaking