The Highlander’s Prize (THE SUTHERLANDS #1) by Mary Wine EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Mary Wine
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
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Scottish Lowlands, 1487
“Keep yer face hidden.”
Clarrisa jerked back as one of the men escorting her hit the fabric
covering the top of the wagon she rode inside of. An imprint of his fist was
clearly visible for a moment.
“Best keep back, my dove. These Scots are foul-tempered creatures, to be
sure. We’ve left civilization behind us in England.” There was a note of
longing in Maud’s voice Clarrisa tried to ignore. She couldn’t afford to be
melancholy. Her uncle’s word had been given, so she would be staying in
Scotland, no matter her feelings on the matter.
Better to avoid thinking about how she felt; better to try to believe her
future would be bright.
“The world is in a dark humor,” Clarrisa muttered. Her companion lifted
the gold cross hanging from her girdle chain and kissed it. “I fear we need a
better plan than waiting for divine help, Maud.”
Maud’s eyes widened. Faster than a flash, she reached over and tugged
one of Clarrisa’s long braids. Pain shot across her scalp before the older
woman sent to chaperone her released her hair. “You’ll mind your tongue,
girl. Just because you’re royal-blooded doesn’t give you cause to be
doubting that the good Lord has a hand in where you’re heading. You’re
still bastard-born, so you’ll keep to your place.”
Clarrisa moved to the other side of the wagon and peeked out again. She
knew well who she was. No one ever let her forget, not for as long as she
could recall. Still, even legitimate daughters were expected to be obedient,
so she truly had no right to be discontented.
So she would hope the future the horses were pulling her toward was a
good one.
The night was dark, thick clouds covering the moon’s light. The trees
looked sinister, and the wind sounded mournful as it rustled the branches.
But Clarrisa didn’t reach for the cross hanging from her own waist. No,
she’d place her faith in her wits and refuse to be frightened. That much was
within her power. It gave her a sense of balance and allowed her to smile.
Yes, her future would hold good things, because she would be wise enough
to keep her demeanor kind. A shrew never prospered.
“Far past time for you to accept your lot with more humbleness,” Maud
mumbled, sounding almost as uninterested as Clarrisa felt. “You should be
grateful for this opportunity to better your lot. Not many bastards are given
such opportunities.”
Clarrisa didn’t respond to Maud’s reminder that she was illegitimate.
There wasn’t any point. Depending on who wore the crown of England, her
lineage was a blessing or a curse.
“If you give the Scottish king a son—”
“It will be bastard-born, since I have heard no offer of marriage,” Clarrisa
insisted.
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