Abbess Helen of Meizerling, widow of the Earl of Valcourt,
is reputed to be a witch. She sells her daughter to be wed
to Jason of Brennan, an evil young man. To avoid her
frightful marriage, Marianna de Luce de Mornay chooses to
flee disguised as a boy. Kidnapped as she sneaks from the
castle, Merry is rescued by Lord Garron, the new Earl of
Wareham, but she again escapes. Arriving at Wareham, Garron
finds total slaughter and only a handful of his people
alive. Following Garron and his men to the keep, Merry
receives help inside and poses as the slain priest's
bastard daughter.
Clever and ambitious Merry endeavors to set the castle to
rights and restore the morale of the survivors. Upon
learning that Merry is truly the Valcourt heiress, Garron
decides to take her to the king. Not being able to convince
Garron to marry her and keep her at Valcourt, Merry seduces
him to force him into marriage, thus avoiding her marriage
to Jason. Merry is abducted and kept prisoner by her mother
while she weaves her magical web of deceit. Miraculously,
Merry is returned and everyone in the keep sees that she is
different. Helen suddenly appears to bargain and win her
way using her daughter, who is now agreeing with her.
Garron cannot believe Merry has done a complete about face,
until the witch's secrets are uncovered.
This medieval story set in England has some surprises mixed
with a little magic and mystery. The ending is a complete
surprise when the twisted web of intrigue is finally
revealed. Merry is a warm, caring and resilient heroine who
falls in love with the handsome hero. Be prepared to
magically jump from one scenario to another with no idea of
how you got there. The suspense continues throughout the
entire story, page to page. This is a "do not miss" story
set in a unique time and place with an intriguing plot.
Set in medieval England, this lively historical romance
delivers the trademark wit that fans have come to know and
love from the #1 New York Times-bestselling
author.
When Garron of Kersey returns home from
the king's service to claim his title as Baron Wareham, he's
shocked to find Wareham Castle very nearly destroyed by a
man called the Black Demon.
According to the last
starving servants still clinging to life inside the castle
walls, the Black Demon was looking for gold belonging to
Garron's brother Arthur. Among his remaining servants is the
enigmatic Merry, the bastard child of the castle's priest.
Garron quickly realizes that she is much more than a
servant: She reads and writes and makes lists, just as he
does. Together they bring Wareham back to its former
splendor.
But this is only the beginning. Did
Arthur have a cache of gold? Who is the Black Demon? And the
biggest question of all: Who is Merry?
Excerpt
Wareham Castle
On the North Sea
Garron couldn't believe the pleasure it
gave him to ride across the drawbridge, horses' hooves loud
on the wood and iron. He looked up at the four large square
corner towers, the high stone walls. Wareham Castle, now
his.
But wait, where was everyone? Why were
there no soldiers lining the ramparts yelling down at him?
And why was the drawbridge down? With night coming quickly,
that wasn't wise. He threw back his head and yelled, "I am
Lord Garron, Earl of Wareham! Raise the portcullis!"
There was only silence.
Aleric yelled, "Raise the portcullis!
Your master is here!"
Still silence.
He felt sudden fear, cold and heavy.
Something was wrong, very wrong. The he heard a shaky old
voice call out, "Are you really the new Earl of Wareham? Are
you really young Garron?"
"Aye, I am Garron of Kersey. Who are
you?"
"I am Tupper, my lord."
By all the saints' hoary elbows, old
Tupper, Wareham's porter since long before Garron was born,
he was still alive? "Have men winch up the portcullis,
Tupper."
"There's no one save me here, my lord,
but I can do it!" Garron heard the sudden grit in that old
voice.
Hobbs said, "Is that old varmint as
ancient as he sounds, Garron?"
"Older." Tupper had been stooped with
years and worry and had very few teeth in his mouth when
Garron had seen him last eight years before.
No one was by the portcullis, save
Tupper? But that made no sense. What was going on here? His
fear grew. He and his men watched, amazed, as the old iron
portcullis slowly rose, the sound of the chain loud in the
still air. Somehow, Tupper had found the strength to turn
that huge winch. Tupper managed to winch the portcullis high
enough for Gilpin to crawl under. After a moment, the
portcullis winched up smoothly, the huge chain flying
upward. When Garron rode into the outer bailey, he saw
Tupper, scrawny as a dead chicken, staring hard at him. Then
he yelled, a lovely full-bodied yell that reached the North
Sea. "Young Lord Garron! Aye, 'tis you, my boy, ye're home
at last! Oh aye, 'tis a wonder! Bless all the saints' burned
bones!"
"Aye, 'tis I, Tupper." As he spoke,
Garron was searching the outer bailey for danger, but he saw
only what should be there -- the barren strip of land twenty
feet wide with rusted sharp spikes stuck up three feet into
the air, shredding an enemy if he managed to get over the
outer castle walls. If the enemy managed to get across those
twenty feet, he was faced with another high stone wall and
another iron portcullis.
Tupper cupped his mouth and yelled at the
top of his aged lungs, "Eller, winch up the portcullis! "Tis
Lord Garron home again! Aye, I know it's him! We're saved!"
Saved? It was nearly full dark
now, dark clouds thick overhead, hiding the stars. Garron
saw nothing but shadows. His fear fair to choked to him now.
Damocles felt his tension, snorted and
reared. Garron leaned forward to pat his neck. "We're home,
lad. Go easy, we'll find out what's happened quickly now."
They waited for Eller, the armorer, Garron remembered, to
winch up the smaller portcullis, then rode single file into
the inner bailey, a vast space, ringed with soldiers'
barracks set into the walls, apple and pear orchard fenced
in to the side, a large space for the kitchen garden, pens
and byres for the animals, stables for the horses, all
dominated by the huge stone keep that rose forty feet into
the evening air. His keep.
But there were no people in the inner
bailey, an area that should be mad with activity any time of
day. There were no lights pouring from the keep, no sounds
of voices, no screaming children, no bands of chickens
squawking and flying about, no dogs barking their heads off,
no cattle mooing in their sheds, no pigs rutting and
snorting about in their byre.
He didn't see a single soldier. He didn't
see any sign of life at all.
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