Aoife MacNeill is a beauty and a prize, a former heiress who wants to marry for love, but her father has arranged her marriage to Nigel Armstrong, the oldest son and heir of the Hawk of Inverfyre. One look confirms that Nigel will never possess her heart—although his cousin, Ross of Kinfairlie, is another matter. Aoife knows she cannot escape her fate, but yearns for one last adventure: she will flee Inverfyre and hope that Ross will be sent in pursuit. She tells herself that one kiss will be sufficient...
Ross of Kinfairlie is a mercenary with a blade for hire; a knight without the coin to claim a bride. When his cousin’s betrothed flees, he lends chase, for the Hawk of Inverfyre trained him. Ross suspects that Aiofe plays a game, but her ploy is dangerous—the treacherous MacLaren clan, always seeking to undermine Inverfyre, take her captive. In the course of rescuing Aoife and ensuring her safety, Ross finds himself captivated by the fierce and beautiful maiden. How much will Ross surrender to guarantee Aoife’s safety? And how much will Aoife offer to protect the man who has captured her heart?
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Historical / MedievalThis is the tenth book set in this world and featuring this family. Please don't offer for it until the other nine are available, as the series has to be read in order.
Ross stood in the great hall of Inverfyre and considered how little the hall had changed since he had first arrived to train under the Hawk’s hand. ’Twas hard to believe twelve years had passed, yet almost impossible to accept that he had witnessed so much in those years. Once he had been convinced of his own inevitable success. Once he had believed he would gain a holding through his service, marry, and have children.
Now he stood in Inverfyre’s great hall, older, more skeptical, and perhaps wiser.
He took a steadying breath, hoping that the Hawk could aid in his quest.
Ross would not think of what he would do or where he would go if this request was denied. He had been to the holdings of nigh all of his siblings and none, thus far, had need of his blade. Malcolm had his former comrades aiding in the defense of Ravensmuir. Alexander had a loyal company of knights in his own service, as did the Hawk. Seton Manor had no need of more defenders.
Though his brother Alexander had told him that the Hawk had been ill this winter, the older man had always been so vital and hale that Ross had assumed the tidings received by Alexander were exaggerated. He wondered that he was kept waiting so long when his arrival had been anticipated.
Then the Hawk descended to the hall, leaning heavily upon his castellan. Ross was shocked by the change in his cousin’s appearance. There had been silver at the Hawk’s temples before, but his once-dark hair was heavily streaked with gray now, and he leaned upon a cane when he crossed the hall. He seemed smaller and less imposing than the knight who had terrified young Ross, though still there was a fierce glint in his eyes. He was followed by his son, Nigel, a handsome and competent man of three and twenty summers. The Hawk’s lady wife, Aileen, as slender and vigilant as ever, watched his progress with concern.
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Adele Contenti
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Spanish
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Unavailable for translation.
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