Denise Lynn - Falcon's Heart

‘…high drama. This is a refreshing medieval…’ —RT Book Reviews

‘With revenge, romance, intrigue and passion at its hottest, Ms Lynn has truly penned a story that ranks high with the best romances I have ever read…A definite keeper.’— Romance Reviews Today

‘A charming romance full of wit and sensuality.’— Historical Romance Writers Review

‘This medieval romance has all the things that I enjoy reading in a book: a mystery to solve, and a hero and heroine who hate each other so much that when they finally realise they are in love it’s explosive!’— The Best Reviews

‘Non-stop action, a marvellous captive/captor plotline, a hint of fantasy and more than a touch of passion converge, making this book a memorable romance and a feast for fans of medieval romance.’— RT Book Reviews

She was his enemy’s sister.

But the things he’d learned set his heart racing and made him feel more alive than he had in ages.

Bold. Headstrong. Foolish. Curious. All the things that would chase away boredom and keep his long days filled with intrigue.

Wanton. Fearless. Willing. All the things that would make his dreams unbelievably lush and keep the short nights filled with passion.

A scuffing sound behind him should have been enough warning, but he’d tried to ignore her tossing and turning. So when she threw the tunic across him and curled up beneath it against his back, then slipped her arm over his waist, Bryce tensed in surprise.

‘There is no reason for either of us to freeze to death.’

Her whispered words against his neck assured him that this would be the longest night of his life.

Award-winning author Denise Lynnhas been an avid reader of romance novels for many years. Between the pages of books she has travelled to lands and times filled with brave knights, courageous ladies and never-ending love. Now she can share with others her dream of telling tales of adventure and romance.

Denise lives with her real-life hero, Tom, and a slew of four-legged ‘kids’ in north western Ohio, USA. Their two-legged son Ken serves in the USN, and comes home on occasion to visit and fix the computers, VCRs, or any other electronic device Mom can confuse in his absence. You can write to her at PO Box 17, Monclova, OH 43542, USA, or visit her website, www.denise-lynn.com

Novels by the same author:

FALCON’S DESIRE

FALCON’S HONOUR

FALCON’S LOVE

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Ashforde Keep, Devon, England

Early summer 1143

Bryce of Ashforde squinted through the billowing smoke at the charred remains of Ashforde Keep. Nothing had been safe from the fire set to lay waste to his newly granted land.

He’d been gone seven short days. Long enough to meet his intended betrothed and her family, and to begin the marriage arrangements with Empress Matilda and her husband Comte Geoffrey of Anjou. A sennight ago, when he’d first come to claim Ashforde Keep as the new lord, it had been sound. Now…now it lay in smoldering ruins.

Much would be required to rebuild; men, more gold than he possessed and a great deal of time. But half of his men were missing. The majority of his gold now filled Empress Matilda’s coffers. Time was sparse.

The final betrothal agreement was in his saddlebag, waiting only for his signature. Once it was signed, they would set a date to exchange their promises of the future. Then they would wed, a necessity for any lord of the realm. He needed a chatelaine for the keep and children—both requirements that could be filled by marriage. But he was to bring his new wife, Cecily of Glynnson, home to what?

He would have to hire someone to oversee the rebuilding of his keep. Because he would be gone, using those weeks…or months…hunting those responsible for this devastating act.

His nose burned. His chest tightened, protesting the dense, acrid smoke that made his eyes water and brought a harsh raspy cough tearing up his throat.

He’d counted seven bodies—apparently villagers by their obvious lack of weapons and chain mail. Why were his men not among the dead? It appeared they’d been removed from the keep. Or, that they’d run at the first sign of attack. He refused to believe they’d run. When Empress Matilda granted him the title and the land, she’d also granted him twenty men. Each one of them had willingly sworn their allegiance to him. He’d been assured they were faithful, honorable and brave men.

So, where were they?

The wind gathered speed, threatening to pull his hooded cloak from around his shoulders. It blew the smoke across the scorched field.

Bright summer sun sparkled off an object sticking out of the rubble. Bryce kicked the smoldering wooden beams away from what appeared to be a sword. After wrapping the edge of his thick woolen cloak around his hand, he pulled the weapon from the smoking pile.

Even though his heart felt as heavy as a boulder in his chest, and his throat ached from choking back a scream of rage, a bitter smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

A falcon was etched on the blade. The raptor’s wings were spread, as if hovering over an unsuspecting prey.

Only one man would mark his weapon in such a manner—Comte Rhys of Faucon. While he’d never crossed swords with Faucon, he’d spoken to men who had. Each of them mentioned the etched falcon.

One question was answered—he knew the party responsible. He stared out toward the forest, now to find his missing men.

Bryce returned to his tethered horse and secured his own sword in a leather loop dangling from the saddle. With great care, he wiped the ashes from the sword he’d found, then held the weapon up toward the blazing sun and vowed, “I promise you, Faucon, I will return your sword and repay you in kind.”

Faucon Keep, Normandy

October 15, 1143

Every autumn, for as long as Marianne of Faucon could remember, the Comte of Faucon hosted a grand tournament and faire. First her father’s father had hosted the event, then her own father. The task now fell to the current Comte of Faucon, her brother Rhys. It had been taking place for so long, that it was an expected celebration.

The only difference this year was in the number of attendees. A devastating famine swept England, bringing more and more people to Normandy, France and other far-flung locations.

An imposing assembly of troubadours, jugglers, dancers and musicians came to entertain the masses gathered while lining their purses with coin. Knights and warriors, tired of earnest battle and seeking to fill their empty coffers with gold or the spoils of those less fortunate at combat, came to test their prowess on the tourney field. Merchants, desperate to profit from the throng and lighten their load of goods before winter set in, flocked to the keep.