Can the Queen of the May looking for her Druid past change the mind of a knight out for revenge against the same people she seeks?
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Excerpt from May Queen:
Lady Flora Debenham looked down from atop her horse at the handsome man who was to be her husband and released a deep sigh. He would do just fine. Then again, it didn’t really matter what he looked like because she wasn’t really going to marry him anyway. She had convinced her uncle to let her switch places with her cousin, and it had naught to do with Gretta being pregnant because that was all a lie she’d made up at the spur of the moment. This whole betrothal was just a ploy to get into Black Creek Castle and it had worked beautifully.
If her uncle hadn’t been such a coward, he wouldn’t have left here in the middle of the night like a fox being chased by a hound. She wasn’t happy that he said the wedding had to take place in a week because she wasn’t sure that was enough time to find her father. Her uncle was probably angry with her for saying Gretta was pregnant. If he hadn’t been stumbling, telling Ricard a reason why Gretta couldn’t marry him, she wouldn’t have had to jump in and say anything at all.
She held no love for her uncle. After all, he had deceived her for the past twenty years of her life. He’d also convinced her poor mother to keep secrets from her about her father and who she truly was. If he had been honest with her from the beginning, she never would have had to blackmail him in the first place.
Her cousin, Gretta, to be sure, was as pure as new fallen snow. She was also so sickening sweet and loyally obedient that it made Flora want to retch. The girl hadn’t questioned her father’s change of heart, although she had cried her eyes out because Flora was getting the man who was supposed to be her husband.
Flora didn’t care what Gretta or her uncle thought anymore. She had lived in ignorance her entire life and would never be so naïve again. They would abide by her wishes now because she had the upper hand. This was her only chance to find her father, and she wasn’t going to back down.
“Sir Ricard Wellington,” she said, sliding off the horse without help. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m sure,” she mumbled, although she didn’t mean a word of it. It meant naught to her that she was betrothed to one of the most handsome, eligible, sought after knights in the land. Still, she realized that she needed to pretend like it did, keeping up appearances for now. If he at all became suspicious of why she was really there or started doubting her uncle’s word, she would have no choice but to abort her mission. That was something she could not let happen.
Hopefully, things would go as planned, and she’d get what she came for and be long gone from here before the date of the wedding. “I suppose it could be worse,” she said, looking around the courtyard.
“My lady?” asked the knight, his dark brows dipping down in aggravation. “Is there something not to your liking?”
“On the contrary,” she told him, forcing herself to smile, trying to seem pleased by the arrangements. “I find you and your castle adequate, and think I’ll be happy here in Somerset.”