Book Lover Mama

What foul devilry is this? They told her he was dead. After six long years without a word, her knight falls onto his knees and sings poetry. Then he denies their son? Heed this well. She's no longer an innocent who'll giggle and tarry on his every word. The sharp edge of her tongue and knife is the only welcome he'll get. She'll not marry him. Besides, the pain would be too much to bear should he ever leave again.

In the light of the early dawn, Lady Fay traverses her parapet wall and waits with bow drawn taut. Only when she realizes the group of men who exit the Saxon rowboat are tonsured does she allow herself to breathe. She need not shoot another of King Alexander's suitors. At least not today. With a wicked grin, she lets go the bowstring, and the arrow makes a perfect arc to land directly in front of the one in the lead. She isn't so fond of priests, either.

In the hours just before dawn, blasphemous curses echo throughout the stone manor. A knife clatters to the floor, and a feisty young widow is bound, blindfolded, and led to the marriage altar. The king couldn't possibly have sanctioned this farce of a marriage, could he? After all, she alone transformed a few mud huts and starving serfs into a flourishing town, never once hesitating to pay generous taxes to his royal kingdom.