Susan Wiggs - The Mistress of Normandy

#1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs transports readers to the lush French countryside of Normandy in a tale of love, family honor and true knights in shining armor…

www.SusanWiggs.com

Praise for Contents Cover Back Cover Text Praise Title Page Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One Twenty-Two Twenty-Three Twenty-Four Afterword Copyright

“Wiggs adds humor, brains and a certain cultivation

that will leave readers anticipating her next romance.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Drifter

“Susan Wiggs delves deeply into her characters’ hearts

and motivations to touch our own.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Mistress

“[Wiggs] has created a quiet page-turner

that will hold readers spellbound as the relationships,

characters and story unfold. Fans of historical romances

will naturally flock to this skillfully executed

[Chicago Fire] trilogy.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Firebrand

“Susan Wiggs masterfully combines real historical events

with a powerful captive/captor romance and…

draws readers in with her strong writing style….”

—RT Book Reviews on The Hostage

Also by SUSAN WIGGS

Contemporary Romances

Home Before Dark

The Ocean Between Us

Summer by the Sea

Table for Five

Lakeside Cottage

Just Breathe

The Goodbye Quilt

The Lakeshore Chronicles

Summer at Willow Lake

The Winter Lodge

Dockside

Snowfall at Willow Lake

Fireside

Lakeshore Christmas

The Summer Hideaway

Marrying Daisy Bellamy

Return to Willow Lake

Candlelight Christmas

The Bella Vista Chronicles

The Apple Orchard

The Beekeeper’s Ball

Historical Romances

The Lightkeeper

The Drifter

The Tudor Rose Trilogy

At the King’s Command

The Maiden’s Hand

At the Queen’s Summons

Chicago Fire Trilogy

The Hostage

The Mistress

The Firebrand

Calhoun Chronicles

The Charm School

The Horsemaster’s Daughter

Halfway to Heaven

Enchanted Afternoon

A Summer Affair

Look for Susan Wiggs’s next novel

THE MAIDEN OF IRELAND

available soon from Harlequin MIRA

The Mistress of Normandy

Susan Wiggs

Refreshed version of THE LILY AND THE LEOPARD,

newly revised by author

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text #1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs transports readers to the lush French countryside of Normandy in a tale of love, family honor and true knights in shining armor… www.SusanWiggs.com

Praise Praise for Contents Cover Back Cover Text Praise Title Page Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One Twenty-Two Twenty-Three Twenty-Four Afterword Copyright “Wiggs adds humor, brains and a certain cultivation that will leave readers anticipating her next romance.” —Publishers Weekly on The Drifter “Susan Wiggs delves deeply into her characters’ hearts and motivations to touch our own.” —RT Book Reviews on The Mistress “[Wiggs] has created a quiet page-turner that will hold readers spellbound as the relationships, characters and story unfold. Fans of historical romances will naturally flock to this skillfully executed [Chicago Fire] trilogy.” —Publishers Weekly on The Firebrand “Susan Wiggs masterfully combines real historical events with a powerful captive/captor romance and… draws readers in with her strong writing style….” —RT Book Reviews on The Hostage

Title Page The Mistress of Normandy Susan Wiggs Refreshed version of THE LILY AND THE LEOPARD, newly revised by author www.mirabooks.co.uk

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Afterword

Copyright

Prologue

Westminster

January 1414

He sat naked in a wooden tub; the King of England loomed at his back. He shivered, tensed, and awaited a sluice of cold water from Henry V’s own hand. The wind whistled, harmonizing with the voices in the shadows of the stone chamber.

“Always thought he’d earn his spurs on the battlefield,” remarked Thomas, Duke of Clarence. “Enguerrand Fitzmarc is the king’s own avenger. He served us right well at Anjou.”

“It was a different dragon Rand slew for the House of Lancaster,” said Richard Courtenay. The Bishop of Norwich leaned forward, the rushlight giving his face a ghostly aspect. “A far more deadly dragon,” he added. “God in heaven, Tom, if not for Rand, you and your brother the king would be but carcasses carved up and served by the Lollards to the Thames.”

Listening, Rand felt pride in Courtenay’s tribute. Then he felt shame in that pride. What had he done, after all, save overhear a plot of ill-guided religious fanatics? A peasant could have done as much. But it hadn’t been a peasant; it had been Rand, gone a-harping at twilight, stumbling into intrigue, barely escaping with his hide intact to alert the king at Eltham.

“Are you ready,” King Henry said with quiet solemnity, “to wash away your former life?”

Rand paused before delivering the expected response. Unlike many aspirants who yearned for the glory of knighthood, he did not want to shed his former life: the quiet sunsets over Arundel keep, the baying of the alaunts on a hunt, the silvery tones of his harp across the heaths of Sussex, the warmth of Justine’s hand in his.... Jesu, could he wash her away?

The men in the chamber fell silent. The king waited.

“Aye, Your Grace,” said Rand.

Water, blessed by the bishop and chilled by the January air, drenched Rand from head to toe, crawling like rivers of ice over his naked flesh. He sat unflinching, although inside he clenched every nerve against the cold.

Jack Cade, Rand’s scutifer, stepped forward. Awkwardly Jack held a pair of barber’s shears in his maimed hand. He flashed an irreverent grin as he bent to his task, the crude scissors biting into Rand’s golden locks. “Enough baths like this,” Jack muttered, taking up a razor, “and you’ll be well able to hold to your vow of chastity.” The razor nicked Rand’s chin.

Hearing King Henry clear his throat, Rand swallowed his laughter. “Hush, Jack, and mind that blade. The shearing’s supposed to show my submission to God, not to your clumsiness.”

Washed clean of his former life and shorn of his former identity, Rand was dressed in shirt, hose, and shoes—black, the color of death, that he might never forget his own mortality. Over this he wore a white tunic for purity, then a red cloak of surpassing richness to show his nobility and willingness to shed blood for God and his king.

Jack secured a white belt around Rand’s waist. “Another symbol of chastity,” he whispered, disgusted. “Would you like me to loosen it, Enguerrand Sans Tache?”