His Woman
Chapter One
Southern Scotland, 1297
He thought her a whore.
As if his opinion of her mattered now. But it did.
Three years hadn't begun to diminish Lady Isabel
Adair's love for Duncan MacGruder.
From the riverbank, she stared at the rush of
water that cut through dense forest, the river a
sanctuary she and Duncan had visited many times
over. Where he'd drawn her into his arms and
while his own hands had trembled with youthful
nerves, he had claimed his first kiss.
Tears blurred her vision. No, Duncan hadn't forgiven
her or forgotten. Fate hadn't been that kind.
Except his loathing was but a pittance of what she
had already served herself.
A stick cracked behind her.
Isabel whirled, her heart pounding. Had Frasyer followed
her? Or had one of his knights? Shielding her
hand over her eyes, she searched the tangle of elm, ash,
and fir, straining to see through the strangled overgrowth
and the shadows for the faintest sign of anyone.
Nothing.
A gust of wind swirled around her, thick with the
scent of the oncoming spring, tainted with the las ... read full excerpt from: His Woman ebook
