The Guardian's Witch
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.
The Guardian's Witch - Excerpt
The berries
Lisbeth had gathered tumbled forgotten from her hands. A tremor touched her
lips while the vision slammed behind her eyes. She didn’t doubt the vision’s
truth. Sometimes a bright light, warm and comforting, accompanied the vision;
other times the wind howled, cold and disturbing. Today, panic clearly filled
the air.
She spun
around trying to pinpoint a direction and abruptly stopped. Facing south, she
licked her lips nervously and tasted the sweetness of fresh water. A rushing
sound burst in her ears. The river. Her head snapped east toward the river path
and she ran. As she careened down the narrow trail, the outstretched branches
tugged at her dress, pulled off her shawl and clawed at her face and arms. She
took no notice. The cadence of her footfalls beat out a mantra, not him, not
him, not him. She rushed on faster, mumbling enchanted words under her breath.
She exploded
out of the forest and stood on the riverbank as the bridge gave way, sending
the horse and rider plunging into the angry current. Swiftly the horse surfaced
and headed for shore with an empty saddle. She stood on the bank, still
mumbling as she scanned the river until she glimpsed a clear red aura shining
deep in its middle. Her relief was momentary when the blackness began to creep
in. There wasn’t much time.
Quickly she
pulled off her heavy dress and, wearing only her chemise, dove into the river.
Save him was her only thought. Down she plunged kicking hard against the
current. The usually clear water, now choked with mud, churned with debris. She
screamed the words in her head and made her demands. In response, the current
slowed and as the mud began to settle, a lifeless hand beckoned to her from
below
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