Morag is the youngest daughter of Reed, one of the Legendary Bastards of the Crown. Will her habit of meddling in everyone’s business help to bring about positive changes? And will it make her unforgettable?
4 1/2 Stars Gold Crowned Heart: Ind’tale Magazine
(Available as ebook, paperback and audiobook)
Excerpt from Forgotten Secrets:
Sir Bedivere Hamilton of Gaunt rode through the gates of Castle Rothbury feeling extremely unsettled. The last time he was here was about a year ago and, at the time, his cover had almost been blown wide open. Being here wasn’t a good feeling at all.
Lady Willow had discovered his secret profession and it hadn’t sat well with him. She had said she’d keep his secret, but what if she hadn’t? The missive he received from Lady Rothbury asking him to apply for the late earl’s holdings came at the same time as his orders for his next job. He was to wait here until further notice. Being suspicious of everyone, he couldn’t help thinking this all might very well be naught but a ploy to expose him as an assassin.
“Why the hell did Whitmore choose this place to give me my next assignment?” he grumbled to himself, thinking about the king’s advisor, a man he hated more than anyone he had ever met in his life. He scanned his surroundings, always aware of what went on around him at all times. He had to be this way. It was the nature of the job. Usually, a contact met with him in private, giving him the missive that would tell him the name of his next kill.
However, his orders were usually given in private. This place was much too busy for anyone to be discreet. The contact would meet him here soon, but it wasn’t to his liking. Still, he had no other choice. And now that he was here, he would have to pretend he was interested in acquiring the late earl’s holdings. If he didn’t, it would be too conspicuous that he had come for a different purpose altogether.
It had been a long two years, but one more assignment is all he had left. After that, he would be finished with this ungodly job forever.
Being an assassin of the king had turned Bedivere into a very ruthless, bitter, cold-blooded man who no longer had emotions. He had accepted the job in trade to save his life, bringing him out of the dungeon of Whitmore Castle where he had been imprisoned. Bedivere’s life had been spared that day, but in return he had promised to take out a dozen men who were conspiring against the king. Only when he had killed twelve men who were plotting the king’s demise would he and the other captives be set free.
“Lord Bedivere, hello,” called out a female from behind him.
He twisted in the saddle, surprised to see one of the daughters of the Legendary Bastards of the Crown standing there. It was the gossipy one. He couldn’t remember her name, nor did he care. All that mattered to him was that her cousin, Willow, hadn’t told her about his occupation.
“Hello . . . Fia,” he said, hoping that was the right name.
“It’s Morag,” she scowled, her eyebrows dipping down in frustration. “Fia is my sister.”
“I’m sorry that I forgot your name, Morag.”
“It figures,” she mumbled under her breath, raising her chin as if she felt insulted. “Everyone forgets me.”
“Are your cousins here as well?” Looking over her head, he scanned the courtyard.
“Nay. They are all married now and at their new homes with their husbands.”
“Aye. So, does your cousin, Lady Willow, ever . . . talk about me?” He slid off the horse and stood across from her now.
“If ye are wonderin’ if she wishes she married ye, she doesna.” The girl had the audacity to roll her eyes as if the suggestion were absurd. “She never says a word about ye, and neither does she care.”
“Good,” he said, releasing a breath he’d been holding. It seemed Willow hadn’t revealed his secret after all.