Medieval Monday Blog Hop – Ruth A. Casie

by | May 1, 2017 | Medieval Monday Blog Hop, romance, Ruth A. Casie, The Stelton Legacy | 0 comments

This has been a wonderful tour, leaving you snippets of the story and finishing it up back here. I hope you enjoyed reading about Jamie and Laura.


The final excerpt from The Highlander’s English Woman by Ruth A. Casie
Jamie turned to the family sitting around the hearth. Wesley
slouched in his chair staring at the fire, grief still raw on his face. He had
aged over the year. His gray hair thinned, his eyes rimmed red and dulled with
pain.
“He’s been like this since we buried… the burial.” Laura,
Richard’s sister, was next to him. “Father tires easily and stays locked up
inside himself. Mother is the sole person who can reach him, although I have
hope. Alex did make him laugh.”
Jamie’s focus turned to Laura, the younger of the two sisters. Laura
and Lisbeth were alike from their slender, petite size bodies, long auburn
hair, and large green eyes with a fan of thick lashes. The sisters may be
similar in appearance, however, not in temperament. Lisbeth was the deep
thinker. Laura was head strong and outspoken, the feistier defiant sister.
“How are you and Lisbeth faring?” He gazed back at Wesley.
“It’s a challenge keeping everyone’s spirits up. At times, I
succeed.” She shrugged. “Other times, I fail miserably. Lisbeth stayed at the
Keep for a while then left for the hunting lodge to be alone.”
Jamie turned to her. Her drawn ashen face disturbed him.
“The rain has stopped. Would you care to take some fresh air in
the garden?” Jamie presented his arm. Laura answered by looping her arm through
his and drew him out the door.
He went willingly. Her warmth chased away any lingering chill from
his journey. She’s Richard’s little
sister
, a warning voice whispered in his head. He took a breath and led her
to the garden door.
“I understand you’re skeptical of Lisbeth’s gift, but she told me
she saw Richard’s death before Bryce carried… brought Richard home. Now, she
blames herself for not taking action.” Laura sighed heavily. “Everyone blames
themselves. Father shouldn’t have let him go, not that he could stop Richard.
Mother should have seen this coming, not that she could. And Lisbeth…”
“I understand all too well. I berated myself for not being with
him, protecting his back.” They reached the stone porch.
Formal gardens sprawled before them with raised flower beds, neat
hedges, and bare trellises waiting for next year’s roses. He waited with her in
silence, willing her his strength.
“Is it wise for Lisbeth to be alone?” Jamie finally asked, and
gazed past the lawn to the well-worn path on the other side of the garden gate.
“She’s not unaccompanied. John escorted her to the hunting lodge
at Ann’s request, over Lisbeth’s heated protest.” She turned to him. “I haven’t
thanked you for coming to us. I know The Maxwell has his demands and travel is
a hardship.”
He stilled her trembling hand. Her brows creased in pain over eyes
that stared off without seeing. He waited.
“I find it difficult to comprehend we’ll not see Richard again.”
Laura’s voice choked and she shrugged with resignation despite tears that
threatened at the edges of her eye.
“Me as well,” Jamie said. He had the same thoughts.
“How long are you staying with us?” Her question was reasonable
but he dreaded answering.
“I return to Caerlaverock tomorrow.” He took a deep breath and saw
a momentary flash of disappointment in her eyes.
“Then we best return to the others. They’ll want to spend time
with you, too.” They moved on toward the hall.
“I have no words, nothing to say to comfort you.” He could barely
get the words out.
“Your presence is enough.”
He held back a nervous smile. He visited to give the family
comfort. Instead, she comforted him.
“How are my Maxwell cousins?” Laura asked. Jamie guided her toward
the great hall.
“They are well when I last saw them.”
“You’ll let me know your decision, Wesley.”
Jamie brought Laura to a halt. An exasperated male voice drifted
out of the great hall.
“I want to make the announcement as soon as possible. With Richard
gone and Glen Kirk so close to the Scottish border, you need someone strong to
hold back the devils.” Lord Bryce Mitchell of Ravencroft, the manse next to
Glen Kirk, stood with Wesley and Darla.
Standing at the great hall entrance, Jamie stiffened when Laura’s
pulse skittered into a panic beneath his fingertips. Jamie’s free hand covered
hers until the beat settled into a normal rhythm. If Bryce couldn’t feel
sympathetic toward the family, couldn’t he at least curb his speech?
“You didn’t waste any time getting here.” The rude remark directed
toward Jamie raised his temper even more. The man’s baiting tactics hadn’t
changed since they served Wesley as squires. Surely he wasn’t foolish to pick a
fight with him, at least not here.
When they trained, Bryce took aim at him whenever possible, most
often urged on by Reeve. Richard and the girls rallied to his defense, but
Bryce’s intolerance of Jamie’s Scottish background stayed near the surface.
Bryce gasped for
air, seething after having lost a foot race to him.
“You’re nothing.
A filthy Scot beggar. Go back to your tribe of mongrels. You’re not fit to be
here.” Bryce pushed him hard.
Jamie didn’t go
down. Not satisfied, Bryce rushed at him again, this time with fists. Jamie
ducked and backed off. Bryce kept up the assault.
Jamie didn’t care
for bullies or being baited by them. He wouldn’t fight.
“Here, here
Bryce. That’s enough.” Richard grabbed his neighbor’s arm but Bryce shook him
off. Reeve pulled Richard back.
“Enjoy the
spectacle. It’s time he learned his place,” Reeve said.
“Stay out of
this,” Bryce screamed at Richard, then turned to Jamie. “Fight, or are you a
puny coward, too?”
Jamie said
nothing. He held his fists at his side and stepped back again.
The fight started
in the yard, progressed to the field, and finished near the pond. A small group
of people followed and urged Jamie to defend himself.
The next punch
caught the Scotsman in the chest. He didn’t flinch.
“You should be
lying on the ground by now. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jamie pulled up his
arms to protect his face as best he could against the onslaught of punches. He
didn’t retaliate.
His face cut and
bloodied, he still didn’t strike back.
“Fight, damn
you,” Bryce shouted and followed with a quick barrage of solid body punches.
He held his
position and didn’t fight back.
In a close
clinch, Bryce muttered for Jamie’s ear only. Jamie pushed his tormentor away.
Years of restraint from insults and attacks disappeared with the maliciously
whispered words.
Bryce threw his
punch. Jamie caught the left jab in his palm mid-strike. Alarm and panic
flashed in Bryce’s eyes. The bully stared at Jamie’s hand holding his fist.
Jamie almost tore
Bryce’s arm out of its socket as he pushed it aside and set his stance, one
foot in front of the other.
For a moment
Jamie thought to stop the madness, but the idea quickly died. Bryce had no idea
what he let loose.
Before Bryce
threw his next punch, Jamie exploded with a rapid cannon volley of left jabs at
Bryce’s jaw. Stunned, Bryce dropped his defenses.
Jamie’s right
cross burst from his shoulder as he shifted from his back leg to his front,
throwing all his weight into the swing. He caught Bryce squarely in the face.
Blood exploded in an arc of fine spray as Bryce’s head snapped back. Droplets
flew, the warm blood spattered across Jamie’s face.
Bryce’s head came
forward. Jamie followed with a left uppercut and caught him under his chin. The
solid strike lifted Bryce into the air, then sent him to the ground. To
everyone’s amazement, Bryce laid unconscious at Jamie’s feet. No one said a
word as he stood panting over the prone figure. Every ounce of him wanted to
drag Bryce on his feet for another round. Instead, he marched away.
Back Cover Copy: The Highlander’s English Woman
Laura
Reynolds is in love with her long-time friend, Jamie Maxwell Collins. She
adores his playful sense of humor, caring nature as well as his strong sense of
family and honor.
Jamie
lives across the border in Scotland. Outwardly carefree, he hides a dark
secret. He can’t involve Laura in this deception. He can’t give her hope for a
future together.
Laura
stumbles upon Jamie’s secret. In her heart of hearts she knows Jamie is
innocent. Their relationship in tatters and with no hope of reconciliation, she
plays a deadly game to exonerate Jamie, she agrees to a political
marriage. She has no idea the entire game has been orchestrated by her
future husband, Jamie’s greatest enemy.

Available at Amazon

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