Forbidden Knight. Diana Cosby
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Deep within Scotland, a healer and a warrior join forces to protect Scotland’s future . . .
There is an intruder in the woods near King Robert Bruce’s camp, but when Sir Thomas MacKelloch comes face-to-face with the interloper, he is shocked to discover his assailant is a woman. The fair lady is skilled with a bow and arrow and defiant in her responses. The wary Knight Templar dare not allow her beauty to lower his guard. Irritated by his attraction, he hauls her before his sovereign to expose her nefarious intent.
Outraged Sir Thomas dismissed her claim, Mistress Alesone MacNiven awaits the shock on the arrogant knight’s face when he learns that she has told the truth. But it is she who is shocked, and then horrified, as it is revealed that her father, the king’s mortal enemy, has betrothed her to a powerful noble, a deal that could jeopardize the king’s efforts to unite Scotland. Robert Bruce orders Sir Thomas to escort Alesone to safety. As they embark on a harrowing journey through the Highlands, Alesone tries to ignore her attraction to the intimidating warrior, but as she burns beneath Thomas’s kiss she realizes this fearless knight could steal her heart.
Also by Diana Cosby
The Forbidden Series
Forbidden Legacy
The Oath Trilogy
An Oath Sworn
An Oath Broken
An Oath Taken
MacGruder Brothers Series
His Enchantment
His Seduction
His Destiny
His Conquest
His Woman
His Captive
Forbidden Knight
Diana Cosby
LYRICAL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
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Copyright © 2017 by Diana Cosby
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First Electronic Edition: June 2017
eISBN-13: 978-1-60183-754-7
eISBN-10: 1-60183-754-2
When I first began writing, while collecting research books on medieval Scotland, I was blessed to “meet” Donella Mackenzie, who owned a bookstore in Scotland. Over the years our friendship has grown, and I thank her for being a part of this amazing journey. You’re truly a blessing in my life. *Hugs*
Acknowledgments
My sincere thanks to Cameron John Morrison and Jody Allen, for answering numerous questions about medieval Scotland and England. I would also like to thank The National Trust for Scotland, which acts as guardian of Scotland’s magnificent heritage of architectural, scenic and historic treasures. In addition, I am thankful for the immense support from my husband, parents, family, and friends. My deepest wish is that everyone is as blessed when they pursue their dreams.
My sincere thanks to my editor, Esi Sogah; my agent, Holly Root; my production editor, Rebecca Cremonese; and my critique partner, Cindy Nord for helping Thomas and Alesone’s story come to life. A huge thanks to the Roving Lunatics (Mary Beth Shortt and Sandra Hughes), Nancy Bessler, and The Wild Writers for their friendship and support over the years!
A very special thanks to Sulay Hernandez for believing in me from the start.
Chapter One
Scotland, late fall, 1307
Wind sharp with the edge of winter battered Alesone MacNiven as she ducked beneath the thick limb of an oak. She scanned the surrounding trees, her body aching with exhaustion after two days of hard travel.
Withered brown leaves scraped across the snow-smeared ground like harbingers of death. She shuddered, damned the images haunting her. Though she hadna seen Comyn’s men since last night, his knights hadna given up their search for her.
Fingers trembling, she withdrew the ring from a hidden pocket inside her cape. A snowflake settled upon the ruby embraced by the gold filigree carving of a lion.
“Give this to King Robert,” Grisel Bucahn rasped. “Tell him—” A cough wracked her body.
“Dinna try to talk,” Alesone pleaded to the woman who’d raised her.
Her beloved mentor placed the ring in Alesone’s palm, curled her fingers over the circlet. “Lo-long ago I saved Robert Bruce’s life. He said if ever I had need of his assistance, to bring him this ring. ’Tis too late for me, but he will protect you.”
“Grisel—”
“Our enemy returns any moment. Go!”
Tears burning her eyes, Alesone hugged Grisel, slipped the ring into her pocket, and fled.
Sunlight shimmered off the ruby as if to mock her heartbreak. Fingers trembling, Alesone stowed the ring. Aye, the bastards would pay!
After taking a drink, she secured her water pouch, shifted the bow hung on her shoulder, and continued on. Beyond the stand of fir and oak, a field came into view. She kept to the woods. As much as she needed to put distance between herself and her pursuers, ’twas safest to travel beneath cover.
A pain-filled scream sounded nearby.
She ducked behind a clump of bushes.
“Tell us where King Robert is!” a man’s rough voice demanded.
Dread ripped through her. Sir Huwe!
Another agony-laden scream.
Pulse racing, Alesone looked where the voices had come from, in search of the knights. A distance away stood another stand of fir trees.
Go! ’Twas death to linger.
And if she fled, whoever suffered Sir Huwe’s brand of twisted brutality would die like Grisel.
With quiet steps she crept to the trees. Between the breaks in the needled boughs, she caught sight of the burly knight’s back.
From her limited view, she couldna see if his detestable friend aided him with whomever he tortured. Little doubt the vermin was near. Like wolves, bad blood traveled in packs.
She withdrew her bow, nocked an arrow, then edged closer.
Another knight, ill-kempt, walked into view.
Her skin crawled with