Ruth A. Casie
Authors: The Guardian's Witch
The Guardian’s Witch
By Ruth A. Casie
England
,
1290
Lord Alex Stelton can’t resist a challenge, especially one with a prize like this: protect a castle on the Scottish border for a year, and it’s his. Desperate for land of his own, he’ll do anything to win the estate—even enter a proxy marriage to Lady Lisbeth Reynolds, the rumored witch who lives there.
Feared and scorned for her second sight, Lisbeth swore she’d never marry, but she is drawn to the handsome, confident Alex. She sees great love with him but fears what he would think of her gift and her visions of a traitor in their midst.
Despite his own vow never to fall in love, Alex can’t get the alluring Lisbeth out of his mind and is driven to protect her when attacks begin on the border. But as her visions of danger intensify, Lisbeth knows it is she who must protect him. Realizing they’ll secure their future only by facing the threat together, she must choose between keeping her magic a secret and losing the man she loves.
71,000 words
Dear Reader,
Welcome to our July lineup of books! If I’m not on the beach somewhere while you’re reading this, there’s something wrong with life (unless you’re reading this in December—in which case, I hope I’m by a fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa in my hand). But no matter where you are while you’re reading this, I can tell you one thing: you’re in for a treat. (Sure, I say that every month, but it’s always true!) This month brings a fun mix of returning authors and debut authors, with fun, contemporary beach reads, some troublesome dragons, a few steps back in time, and characters in a race against time and a fight for their lives.
Let’s kick off with the perfect beach read. Make sure you pick up Christi Barth’s
Love at High Tide.
Beach reading doesn’t get much better than this. It starts with a beach rescue, continues with a beach romance, and has sun, sand, sexual tension and two characters you will love.
Maybe the beach isn’t your thing in the summer, but baseball is. Take a peek at Alison Packard’s
The Winning Season.
After hitting rock bottom, bad-boy catcher Matt Scanlon is traded to the team he’s loathed since boyhood, and he must confront a painful incident in his past before he can rebuild his life
and
his career. Once you’ve fallen in love with Matt, go back and read Alison’s debut romance,
Love in the Afternoon.
Continuing in the contemporary romance genre, we have party planner Tess, who can’t believe that hotel manager Jeremy could possibly be interested in her. She’s everyone’s BFF, not friends-with-benefits material. But he’s got more than friendship on his mind in Kate Davies’s
Life of the Party
, book three in the Girls Most Likely to… series.
Maybe you like your romance with a side of suspense? If so, check out Anne Marie Becker’s
Deadly Bonds
, and
Betrayed by Trust
from Ana Barrons. Two romantic suspense books, four characters in fights for their lives.
Or maybe you like your romance with a large helping of sexy times? If so, Lynda Aicher’s
Bonds of Desire
is the book for you. Lawyer Allison English never planned to return to The Den—despite her naughty fantasies about being bound by owner Seth Matthews. But when club guest Tyler Wysong is injured in a scene, Seth turns to Allie for help. Aroused by both men, Allie should turn the case down. But she can’t…
Joining Lynda in the erotic romance category this month are two male/male titles. First up is
His Roommate’s Pleasure
by Lana McGregor. Adam had no idea that his jock roommate was gay—and into leashes, paddles, and domination. And Adam, an inexperienced virgin who’s only ever kissed one guy, is surprised to find himself curious about submitting… Then Samantha Ann King returns with the follow-up to her debut romance,
Sharing Hailey.
In
Waiting for Ty
, too many beers and four long years of denying their feelings for each other thrust two men together in a lip-lock and a night of no-holds-barred sex that forces them to confront their greatest love and their deepest fears.
In
Sky Hunter
, the third and final installment of Fae Sutherland’s male/male space opera romance series, Skybound, the
Crux
Ansata
’s brash and rebellious ship mechanic, Jeret, finds himself face-to-face with a dangerous past he never thought to revisit—and the only man he has never been able to forget.
Looking for more books in the paranormal category? Start with Ruth A. Casie’s
The Guardian’s Witch
and
Desperate Magic
by Rebecca York. And for fans of historical romance, in Georgie Lee’s
Hero’s Redemption
, a widow and a war hero brought together by a scheme must learn to trust one another and accept the tragedy that links them in order to find love. Meanwhile, historical romance author Susanna Fraser, who can always be counted on to deliver a unique and unusual historical romance, returns with
A
Dream Defiant
, in which a black British soldier marries a beautiful English war widow, but he can’t believe she wants him for himself, and not merely as her bodyguard and protector.
This month Carina Press is pleased to announce three debut authors. Mystery author Patricia Hale will grip you by the throat with her suspenseful story of retribution,
In the Shadow of Revenge.
As children they witnessed horror and created a pact, as women they planned their revenge and waited.
Also debuting this month is Reese Ryan, with
Making the First Move.
When ambitious HR exec Melanie Gordon falls for sweet, sexy philanthropist Raine Mason, she discovers that his selflessness is driven by a dark and tragic secret that threatens to keep them apart.
And joining Carina Press with her Golden Heart–winning paranormal romance is debut author Lorenda Christensen. Fans of Katie MacAlister’s Aisling Grey and Light Dragons series will want to check this one out, and so will any fans of fun paranormal romances featuring dragons and heroines with a bit of backbone. In
Never Deal with Dragons
, the first in a new series, a human mediator bites off more than she can chew when she agrees to partner with an ex-boyfriend to stop a war between two dragon monarchs.
I hope you enjoy all of this month’s new releases. There’s certainly a variety to choose from, to keep you occupied no matter what your summer (or winter) activity.
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to
[email protected]
. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
Dedication
To my mom, Judith Breus, who always had a book in her hand and romance books tucked away where she thought Bernice and I wouldn’t find them.
To my critique partners Jennifer Sampson, Lita Harris, and Nicole Doran for all the great brainstorming, help with POV missteps, insight into all things “other worldly,” and for Nicole’s awesome crumb cake. The critique meetings are the highlight of my week and keep me motivated.
To author Julie Rowe, who encouraged me to write the next book.
To Angela James for her quiet encouragement and Andrea Kerr for helping me make this a great story.
To Paul who continues to bewitch me. May I always be under his spell!
Contents
Chapter One
Northumberland, England, 1290
“You won the wager with His Majesty,” said Lord Bryce Mitchell astride his Arabian. He cantered down the forest trail with Alex Stelton, the newly minted Lord of Glen Kirk Castle.
“The entire court placed odds on whether I would succeed.” The two men slowed their horses to a walk. Alex glanced at Bryce. “Did you lose much?” He refocused his attention on the trail ahead. “You should have put your coin on me. I only wager when I’m certain of the results.”
“After one year of holding the old stones against the Scots, he actually gifted the castle and his ward to you.” Bryce shook his head.
The ring of surprise in Bryce’s voice and evident disbelief on his face amused Alex. “His Majesty is a man of his word. Did you have any doubt?” asked Alex, his head cocked to the side with one eyebrow raised. His face split into a wide grin.
“About the king being a man of his word or of you holding off the Scots?” Bryce colored his smooth retort with a smirk.
The two friends looked at each other, exploded into laughter, and continued on until they reached the crossroads where they brought their horses to a halt. The tower of Glen Kirk Castle, bathed in the setting sun, peeked through the trees still some three miles to the north. Alex surveyed his new holding. His chest swelled with pride.
Mine.
“Though Edward did make you pay.”
Alex was peeved by Bryce’s patronizing tone. He masked his emotions until they were as unreadable as stone.
“Yes, you could say that.” Alex tried his best dismissive tone. Best he forget the king’s retribution for now. There would be time enough to deal with it later.
“Could? Surely you knew if he lost the wager he would find some way to make you pay. He doesn’t lose gracefully at anything, but to actually marry you to his ward by proxy. I can still see the apoplectic look on your face.”
“Yes, Bryce—what about the look on my face?” demanded Alex. His voice sounded strident even to him.
Bryce turned all shades of purple trying to conceal his mirth but he said not one word more. Instead he diverted his attention and polished the gold clasp, embossed with the Mitchell coat of arms, on his cloak.
Alex bristled at being the center of anyone’s jest. He didn’t take it well from his brothers, although the six of them only teased to vex him. Even though he was the youngest, his brothers deferred to him. They knew his worth and, it appeared, so did the king.
His teeth clenched at the thought of his proxy wedding and his humiliation. He knew he had to take a wife. He had to make his own way in the world. The Stelton holdings were extensive but not enough to provide him with an income. He’d have done anything to prove himself worthy of a holding of his own. Maybe even marry. Perhaps even Lisbeth. He never thought he would marry on the whim of the king. He had tried to argue, but there was no arguing with Edward. Faith, the king all but patted him on his head and sent him off like a new page. A page. He raked his hand through his hair.
With a nod of his head, Bryce motioned toward Glen Kirk in the distance. “Marrying Lisbeth does secure your claim to Glen Kirk.”
Lisbeth. He had lived at Glen Kirk for a year and hardly saw her. The only way he knew she was near was the little charms she left or the serenity that surrounded them. She kept herself in the forsaken hunting lodge and managed to elude him at almost every turn.
On odd twinge of disappointment hung round him. She hadn’t been like that years ago when they encountered each other at court. She had laughed and didn’t have a care in the world. Four years later he wouldn’t have known it was her if she hadn’t presented herself at the castle. The impish girl had grown into a poised beauty. Dark hair fell in long waves down her back. Her slender body was punctuated with soft curves that couldn’t remain hidden by the black mourning gown. Large green eyes stared at him from under a fan of long dark lashes. Even with her dour expression her full lips tempted him. He moved uncomfortably in his saddle. How things change. How people change.
“You do know you’re the envy of everyone. Not because the king gave you Wesley’s treasured Glen Kirk or daughter.” Bryce turned serious. “You inherited Wesley’s brewer and ale recipe. That should give you some compensation. I understand it’s a long-held family secret. Wesley was all about family.”
Family. He let his mind wonder. It landed on memories of his early days at court with his parents and siblings. He enjoyed the candor and tumult around the table in their assigned apartment. How he would appreciate that safety and security today in the midst of a court filled with politics and intrigue.
“I intend to leverage our close friendship,” said Bryce, “I’ll sample each batch and make certain it retains its high standards.”
Alex grinned at his friend’s declaration. Lord Wesley and Lady Darla Reynolds had been close friends of his parents. They didn’t bring their daughters to court often but Richard, their son, was always with them and became close to the tight-knit band of Stelton boys. Richard’s death on the Welsh battlefields had been a shock to them all. He and Wesley had spent a good deal of time together consoling each other over a good many tankards of ale.
It was only a short time after Alex left for the Welsh Wars himself that he heard of Wesley and Darla’s fatal accident. He felt their loss deeply. Now in a twist of fate their beloved Glen Kirk and daughter were his.
“Have you sent word to her?” Bryce’s question hung heavy in the air.
Alex broke away from his musings. “No, I will tell her when the time comes.” Alex suppressed the annoyance in his voice. What if she didn’t want to be married to him? He had expected a warm welcome from her a year ago. She had made it obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. He’d have to find a way to approach the subject, see how agreeable she was to the idea. A seventh son, he never thought the king would care who he married. The last thing he wanted was a political wife. He relaxed his death grip on his horse’s reins, let out a deep breath, and changed the subject. “I’ve heard your border farms were raided. How bad were the attacks?”
Bryce took a bannock out of his saddlebag, broke off a piece and offered it to Alex. He leaned forward in his saddle, a conspiratorial tone in his voice. “And your Glen Kirk farmers?”
Relieved to get Bryce off the subject of his new wife, Alex’s brows knit together at the mention of his farms. He took a bite of the cake and washed it down with some ale from the skin he carried. He passed the ale to Bryce. “No attacks on my farms.” He wiped the crumbs from his lips with the back of his hand. “I set up patrols before we left for London. Since our lands are adjacent I’m certain it’s only a matter of time before the Glen Kirk farms become targets.”
“Yes, a good strategy. I’ll have my men patrol my border farms as well. That should give us a better chance of catching these men before they strike your farms.”
Alex’s chest tightened at the insinuation that he couldn’t protect his people, although Bryce’s offer did make good military sense. The tactician in him knew the benefit of working both sides of the border. He moved back in his saddle. Yes, Bryce’s men would be helpful.
“You still believe your Scots are blameless.” Bryce passed back the skin.
“Bryce, this is more than a border raid and a few cows being taken—much more. And they are not ‘my’ Scots. Everyone at Glen Kirk has told me they have never had an incident with the border clans, so why now? You live here. Surely you know that to be true. But, if not the Scots, who? That is the question.”
“You do know most everyone at court suspects the Scots.” Bryce straightened in his saddle.
“I too heard the rumblings.”
“You were quite outspoken. The debate you sparked was lively to say the least.”
“You know where I stand on this issue. I clearly do not agree. The Scots are not involved in these raids.”
“How can you be so certain, Alex?”
“I’ve been dealing with them this last year and they’re just as concerned about these raids as we are. They’re worried the raids will move to their land. I know they are truthful. I can’t explain it more than that. You’ll not convince me otherwise, Bryce. We’re on different sides of this argument. Let’s leave this discussion for another time.”
It was good to see his friend talking again. Bryce had been preoccupied for a good part of the journey. He wasn’t certain what attributed to Bryce’s attitude. Perhaps it was the delay caused by his unexpected nuptials or Bryce’s private audience with the king, which apparently did not go well. Bryce didn’t offer to share what had happened, and Alex wouldn’t pry. He supposed the man was entitled to his mood. Over the last year Alex had grown to know Bryce and his father, Ramon, well. Bryce would seek him out to talk when the time was right. For now it was good to see the heaviness lifted.
“Well Lord Alex, this is where I leave you.”
Alex didn’t need to peer over his shoulder but rather knew Bryce’s small retinue approached.
“How long do you plan to stay at Glen Kirk before you return to Wales?”
Alex looked at the knight. “I’ve decided not to accept the king’s invitation. I’m certain he will understand.” He glanced at the castles towers in the distance. “Glen Kirk will do.”
Bryce followed his gaze. “Yes, I’m not surprised.” His men emerged from the forest and entered the small clearing. Bryce’s horse danced, eager to get under way. “We’ll wait here with you for your men and wagons,” said Bryce, easily bringing the horse under control. “They can’t be too far behind.”
“No need. The sun is mostly gone and you’ve another hour’s ride before you reach Ravencroft. We’re on Glen Kirk land. There won’t be any trouble.”
“As you wish. Then I will leave you to continue to gaze at your gift, m’lord, and contemplate your evening.” Bryce affected a mock bow. “Well done, Alex. You made me a pretty penny.” He wheeled his horse to the west.
“If I had known you had wagered I would have claimed half,” Alex shouted out after him. “Safe travels.”
Bryce raised his hand in salute and set off at a comfortable pace. His men fell in behind him.
Alex’s gaze slid back to the castle’s crenellated tower. Glen Kirk was anything but a gift. He had worked long and hard to make the castle prosper and to keep the people safe. He dealt well with the Scots through mutual respect and clear understanding. His eyes soaked in the view. He would never tire of staring at her graceful lines and majestic bearing. He never doubted his success. Something deep down told him Glen Kirk was his rightful place. He urged Prime, his destrier, forward.
Prime’s ears flattened. Alex, instantly alert, detected a change in the surroundings. The stillness was deafening. He heard not a sound. He glimpsed the west trail. Bryce and his men were out of sight. Relief his friend was out of harm’s way was only momentary. The rustling of the underbrush gave away the raider’s positions. Whoever it was had started to move. He knew his men and wagons were not far behind but they wouldn’t reach him in time. He would have to fend for himself. The crack of dried wood to his right drew his attention. A stout branch snapped back and struck him a hard glancing blow from the left. The combination of surprise and brute force unseated him and threw him to the ground.
His warhorse kicked and nipped at the raiders who broke through the trees. Prime stood defiantly by Alex and kept the attackers at bay.
Alex jumped to his feet with his sword drawn. He slapped the horse’s rump, a signal he was ready. The horse turned south, bolted and stampeded through the knot of men. The well-trained horse raced down the trail toward Alex’s advancing soldiers.
Alex quickly evaluated the field of attack. Prime had done a good job of thinning out the men. Many lay broken and bleeding on the ground. The advantage shifted to his favor. The few survivors who remained were dazed. He had to strike before they reorganized.
He swung his blade shoulder high in a wide arc. The men backed away. One slipped off to the right to circle behind him. Alex used the momentum of his swing to turn completely around and faced the lone attacker. He let his swing continue and drew his blade across the man’s throat. Blood spurted from the fatal wound creating large blotches on Alex’s tunic. The raider fell to his knees blood pulsing from his severed throat. His mouth opened and closed like a beached fish but he made no sound. He crumpled forward into the red mud.
Alex pressed forward. He bellowed his war cry and the seasoned warrior exploded into action. He slashed, sliced and skewered the less-proficient fighters with efficient and fluid swordplay. He progressed from one stroke to the next. His brown riding tunic and white shirt were splattered crimson. He continued his attack, now focused on the more senior men. His blade whipped through the air and whistled with a deadly cadence. The blows, in rapid succession, were marked by the ring of steel against steel a mere second or two apart.
The warm August air was thick with the pungent smell of battle. The coppery taste of blood permeated the rising mist in the small clearing. Alex advanced and pushed his attackers back toward the forest path. He would catch his enemy between him and his advancing men.
Someone approached from behind him, someone he knew and trusted. Alex didn’t stop. He was too busy with the attack in front of him. The sound of his men advancing up the trail reached him. One man after another fell until someone with a well-placed knife broke through his rear defense. With a single stroke white heat seared his side. He tried to turn and defend against the attacker but all went black.
* * *
“Lord Mitchell, he’s lain here for two days. I’ve sent John to fetch Lady Lisbeth.”
Through the pain, Alex overheard Ann, his housekeeper. She stood vigil at his bedside.
“John? Why did you send him and not one of the messengers?” asked Bryce.
Ah, Bryce was with him too. Someone, he suspected Ann, straightened the bed linen with a gentle touch.
“There aren’t many left in service. The king’s protectors scared them away.” Ann gave the linen a final tug.
“You mean the rumors of the curse.” Bryce’s voice held a bitter edge of cynicism.