The Devil's House: A Medieval Romance of Captivity and Slow Ruin (The Devil's Knights: Medieval Romance)
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The Devil's House: A Medieval Romance of Captivity and Slow Ruin (The Devil's Knights: Medieval Romance)
Sale price
$28.99
Regular price $34.99
He took her from the altar.
He told himself it was duty.
He was wrong.
He was called the Devil of the western marches, and he had done nothing to discourage it. Thorne of Ashford ruled his lands with iron certainty and kept his own counsel and had never in his life met a situation he could not manage.
Then the King gave him a prisoner.
Lady Elin of Greyhaven had been taken from her wedding, delivered into his custody by royal decree, and she bore it with a quiet grace that should have made things simpler. She was composed, patient, and possessed of a beauty that had nothing of vanity in it, and she gave him no open defiance, no appeal, no scene. She endured what could not be changed and waited with a stillness that unnerved him more than any resistance could have done.
Because Thorne had learned, over a long and careful life, to manage difficult things. What he had never learned was what to do with a woman who looked at him as though she could see straight through him, and said nothing of what she found there.
It was, he would later think, the most dangerous thing she could have done.
He told himself it was duty.
He was wrong.
He was called the Devil of the western marches, and he had done nothing to discourage it. Thorne of Ashford ruled his lands with iron certainty and kept his own counsel and had never in his life met a situation he could not manage.
Then the King gave him a prisoner.
Lady Elin of Greyhaven had been taken from her wedding, delivered into his custody by royal decree, and she bore it with a quiet grace that should have made things simpler. She was composed, patient, and possessed of a beauty that had nothing of vanity in it, and she gave him no open defiance, no appeal, no scene. She endured what could not be changed and waited with a stillness that unnerved him more than any resistance could have done.
Because Thorne had learned, over a long and careful life, to manage difficult things. What he had never learned was what to do with a woman who looked at him as though she could see straight through him, and said nothing of what she found there.
It was, he would later think, the most dangerous thing she could have done.