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Authors: The Scoundrel

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“She meant me no ill!” Michael shouted in dismay. Later he would marvel at the root of his certainty, but in that moment, he knew without doubt.

He heard footsteps approaching, saw Sebastien lean down beside him. “I am sorry, my lord. I thought…”

“I know, I know. The error was mine,” Michael whispered, unable to explain his sorrow. Sebastien stepped away. Michael saw him raise a hand to halt the others, but he cared solely for Adaira.

Adaira’s wounds were fatal, that much was clear. She knew it, as well, for there was resignation in the set of her lips.

The dagger tumbled from her feeble grip and she raised a trembling hand to his face. Her odd gaze seemed fixed upon him, nay, it seemed she could see directly to his soul.

“Another betrayal,” she murmured with a shake of her head. “Beware, my love, for the treachery wrought must all be repaid.”

“It was an accident…” Michael began, but she shook her head.

“There are no accidents in truth. And in a sense, I am relieved. This life has been long and arduous, each day painful in your absence.” She sighed and smiled, her fingertip shaking as she touched his face. “I have missed you, love.”

Michael did not know what to say. He could not explain the deep well of grief that opened within him.

“Remember me well, Magnus Armstrong,” she whispered. “Remember that it was not my intent to betray you on this day, though I feared matters come to this. I had to see you one last time, despite the price.” She shook her head. “The gods will have their jest, after all.”

Tears began to run from her eyes as Michael watched helplessly. Her fingers traced the lines of his face as if she would know the look of him despite her blindness.

She was mad, that much was clear, and an utter stranger, but still his heart tightened. It seemed to him that he had had many painful partings like this, though he knew he had not.

“I love you, Magnus,” she said, her voice no stronger than a breath. “I love you with all my heart for all time.”

Michael saw her die, he witnessed the moment that life left her being. Indeed, he could have had no doubt of it. Just as the old woman’s eyes closed and her lips stilled, a light seemed to flood her face and he saw again the features of that young beautiful maiden.

On impulse, he bent, compelled by some nameless urge to press his lips to the maiden’s lips one last time. The vision abruptly faded and he found only the dead crone’s lips beneath his own.

Shaken, Michael laid her on the ground and took an unsteady step back. As he stared at her, a tumult of memories loosed in his mind that he was certain were not his own. Throughout them all rode that maiden, her smile tightening his chausses and making his heart pound.

He glanced back to his companions, seeking some hint that he was not the only one affected, but they regarded him with uncertainty.

As rightly they should. He did not know what had possessed him. Michael bent and impulsively claimed the unusual dagger, shoving it into his belt, as he sought the words that would return matters to how they had been.

He did not have long to think. The silence of the forest was rent suddenly with shouts. A tattered army of vagabonds leapt out of the shadows, blades flashing. His party was assaulted on all sides by a nameless and innumerable foe.

Sebastien shouted and loosed another arrow into the throng of attackers. Tynan roared and unsheathed his blade, the horses neighed and reared. Roland’s blade rang out as it met that of one attacker. Rosamunde drove her dagger into the face of another assailant.

Michael was the last to draw his blade, Adaira’s whimsy like cobwebs in his thoughts. He had no doubt that this was but the first of many battles, part of the greater war that would be required to reclaim what was his own.

He bellowed commands and his men formed a circle around him. Blades swung and blood flowed, the watchful peace of the forest shattered by the warfare of men. They were upon the soil of Inverfyre, Michael could feel it in his very feet, and he would either die or triumph upon these lands.

His fate coursed through his very veins.

 

* * *

 

And through the years ahead, a maiden smiled benignly in Michael’s newfound memories, encouraging him, loving him, welcoming him home. She buoyed him when his spirit might have faltered and each time he unsheathed his blade, he swore to serve her proudly. He knew he would never forget this beauty, a conjured dream who had claimed his heart without saying a word.

Indeed, had he listened to his heart, he would have recalled that she was his destiny.

It would be more than eighteen years before Michael glimpsed her again, eighteen years of memories and yearning, eighteen years in which he measured each damsel against her memory. She would be wrought taller, more fair, but with the same blue eyes and the same mysterious smile. He would be older, with silver at his temples and experience on his blade. He would be known as the Hawk of Inverfyre by then for his talent in seizing a moment of opportunity to claim a victory.

And the Hawk would steal the sole prize he desired, a deed that befitted the son of a thief he had always been and the ruthless predator he had become.

It would be a long eighteen years.

 

* * *

 

Claire Delacroix sold her first romance novel in 1992 – that book,
The Romance of the Rose
, was published by Harlequin Historicals in 1993. Since then, she has published more than forty romances, including historical romances, contemporary romances, time travel romances, fantasy romances and paranormal romances. She has also written under the name Claire Cross.
The Beauty
by Claire Delacroix, part of her successful Bride Quest series, was her first novel to land on the New York Times list of Bestselling books. In 2009, she was the writer in residence at the Toronto Public Library, the first time they have hosted a residency focused on the romance genre.

 

Recently, Claire has published a future-set urban fantasy romance trilogy (post-nuclear, pre-Apocalyptic, featuring fallen angel heroes). She currently writes the Dragonfire series of contemporary paranormal romances which feature dragon shape shifter heroes, as well as a linked YA series called the Dragon Diaries. Both dragon series are published under the name Deborah Cooke.

 

In the spring of 2012, Claire will publish a new medieval romance.
The Renegade’s Heart
is the first book in a new series, The True Love Brides, which is linked to The Jewels of Kinfairlie series. Visit her website for more details.

 

Learn more about her books at her websites:

http://www.delacroix.net

http://www.deborahcooke.com

 

She posts most weekdays at her blog, Alive & Knitting, which is right here:

http://www.delacroix.net/blog

 

You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter, Chestwick, on Yahoo at:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/chestwick/

 

Catch the latest news and reviews on her Facebook page:

http://www.facebook.com/AuthorClaireDelacroix

 

* * *

 

Books by Claire Delacroix

 

Time Travel Romances:

ONCE UPON A KISS

THE LAST HIGHLANDER

LOVE POTION #9

THE MOONSTONE

 

Medieval Romances:

Harlequin Historicals:

THE ROMANCE OF THE ROSE

HONEYED LIES

UNICORN BRIDE

THE SORCERESS

PEARL BEYOND PRICE

THE MAGICIAN’S QUEST

UNICORN VENGEANCE

MY LADY’S CHAMPION

ENCHANTED

MY LADY’S DESIRE

 

The Bride Quest:

THE PRINCESS

THE DAMSEL

THE HEIRESS

THE COUNTESS

THE BEAUTY

THE TEMPTRESS

 

The Rogues of Ravensmuir:

THE ROGUE

THE SCOUNDREL

THE WARRIOR

 

The Jewels of Kinfairlie:

THE BEAUTY BRIDE

THE ROSE RED BRIDE

THE SNOW WHITE BRIDE

“The Ballad of Rosamunde”

 

The True Love Brides:

THE RENEGADE’S HEART

 

Apocalyptic Romances

The Prometheus Project:

FALLEN

GUARDIAN

REBEL

 

* * *

 

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