Suzanne Barclay - Knight's Rebellion

Cover Page

Praise Just some of the terrific praise for award-winning author Suzanne Barclay and her books! “…a great superstar.” — Affaire de Coeur “…a fun, fast-paced read with an intriguing plot…” — Author Kat Martin “Barclay is dynamic!” — The Literary Times “A rare treasure!” — Rendezvous “5 s.” — Booklovers “…an exciting and talented new writer.” —Author Susan Wiggs “Pure gold! Read a Barclay Medieval and you are reading the best.” — The Medieval Chronicle “…richly detailed, completely believable and totally satisfying…” —The Gannett News Service “…page-turning adventure…seduces your senses and lays siege to your heart.” —Author Theresa Michaels “…a magician with words…” — Romantic Times “…pure magic…A glorious tapestry of love and redemption.” — Old Book Barn Gazette If you haven’t read Suzanne Barclay, what are you waiting for?

Excerpt “I cannot be what you want,” Alys said softly. “And that is…?” Gowain questioned. She shivered. “A—” “Lover?” he whispered, pleased by the hike in her pulse. She nodded and ducked her head. Gowain grinned, stroking her forearm. She was still trembling, but not with uncertainty or fear. Nor was she trying to pull away. It was worth the strain on his selfcontrol. “I want you to be comfortable with me, Alys.” “I am, but…” Her eyes locked on his, twin pools of startling blue, filled with trampled hopes. “This will not work.” “It can, if you want it badly enough.” His gaze focused on her, his eyes as dark and mysterious as the forest at night. In their depths flickered a longing she understood only too well, for it mirrored her own. Loneliness, a yearning to belong to someplace and someone. The ache in her chest grew, coiling so tight, she could scarcely breathe…. Please address questions and book requests to: Harlequin Reader Service U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Title Page Knight’s Rebellion Suzanne Barclay www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author SUZANNE BARCLAY has been an avid history buff all her life and an inveterate dreamer since she was very young. “There is no better way to combine the two than by writing historical romances,” she claims. “What other career allows you to journey back to the time when knights were bold and damsels distressed—without leaving behind the comforts of central heating and indoor plumbing?” She and her husband of twenty-one years recently moved into a new house with a separate office where Suzanne can dream in blissful peace…when not indulging her passion for gourmet cooking or walking their two dogs, Max and Duffy. Suzanne has prepared a comprehensive Sommerville family tree, detailing the marriages and progeny of all the Sommervilles and Harcourts…even those who did not star in their own stories. To receive a copy, send a large SASE to: Suzanne Barclay, P.O. Box 92054, Rochester, NY 14692.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Copyright

“…a great superstar.”

— Affaire de Coeur

“…a fun, fast-paced read with an intriguing plot…”

— Author Kat Martin

“Barclay is dynamic!”

— The Literary Times

“A rare treasure!”

— Rendezvous

“5 s.”

— Booklovers

“…an exciting and talented new writer.”

—Author Susan Wiggs

“Pure gold! Read a Barclay Medieval and you are reading the best.”

— The Medieval Chronicle

“…richly detailed, completely believable and totally satisfying…”

—The Gannett News Service

“…page-turning adventure…seduces your senses and lays siege to your heart.”

—Author Theresa Michaels

“…a magician with words…”

— Romantic Times

“…pure magic…A glorious tapestry of love and redemption.”

— Old Book Barn Gazette

If you haven’t read Suzanne Barclay, what are you waiting for?

“And that is…?” Gowain questioned.

She shivered. “A—”

“Lover?” he whispered, pleased by the hike in her pulse.

She nodded and ducked her head.

Gowain grinned, stroking her forearm. She was still trembling, but not with uncertainty or fear. Nor was she trying to pull away. It was worth the strain on his selfcontrol. “I want you to be comfortable with me, Alys.”

“I am, but…” Her eyes locked on his, twin pools of startling blue, filled with trampled hopes. “This will not work.”

“It can, if you want it badly enough.” His gaze focused on her, his eyes as dark and mysterious as the forest at night. In their depths flickered a longing she understood only too well, for it mirrored her own. Loneliness, a yearning to belong to someplace and someone.

The ache in her chest grew, coiling so tight, she could scarcely breathe….

Please address questions and book requests to:

Harlequin Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

www.millsandboon.co.uk

has been an avid history buff all her life and an inveterate dreamer since she was very young. “There is no better way to combine the two than by writing historical romances,” she claims. “What other career allows you to journey back to the time when knights were bold and damsels distressed—without leaving behind the comforts of central heating and indoor plumbing?” She and her husband of twenty-one years recently moved into a new house with a separate office where Suzanne can dream in blissful peace…when not indulging her passion for gourmet cooking or walking their two dogs, Max and Duffy.

Suzanne has prepared a comprehensive Sommerville family tree, detailing the marriages and progeny of all the Sommervilles and Harcourts…even those who did not star in their own stories. To receive a copy, send a large SASE to: Suzanne Barclay, P.O. Box 92054, Rochester, NY 14692.

England, April 1390

Night fell swiftly in this wild corner of the Peaks District, snuffing out the gray day and turning the hills black as the maws of hell. The wind rose, bearing with it a hint of rain, its chill fingers tugging at the shabby band of riders working their way down the rutted track between the mountains.

Gowain de Crecy hunched his shoulders beneath his threadbare tunic and rusted armor, his body’s instinctive reaction to the cold his brain was too preoccupied to note.

Riding beside him, Darcy Beaufort, his second in command, sighed, weariness mixing with exasperation. Gowain was a born leader, wise beyond his six-and-twenty years, brave and possessed of tremendous willpower. He was the sort of man other men would follow into hell itself. If Gowain had a failing, it was that he sometimes forgot others were not as strong and invincible as he. “Dammit, man, do you never tire?” Darcy grumbled.