Leaves On The Wind

Carol Townend

Loving the EnemyAfter Judith Coverdale saw her family's estate razed to the ground by Normans, she vowed to avenge her family's honor. She donned a boy's disguise and joined a band of outlaws, led by her brother, to terrorize the invaders. When disaster struck, Judith found herself in the strong arms of the great warrior Rannulf de Mandeville. What she soon realized was that Rannulf was the brother of the murdering Norman who'd stolen her lands. Time and time again, Rannulf proved his devotion to her and taught her lessons in survival, but would she ever accept his love?

“Hold me tight. It hurts less when you hold me.”

Judith made to pull him down beside her. She could feel his body stiffen, resisting her. “What’s the matter? Rannulf?”

“’Tis not seemly,” came his stiff reply.

“Not seemly?” Judith was astounded. “But you are far older than I!”

“I’m twenty-one—” Amusement entered his voice. “Is that such a great age? Those knights were older still, and that would not have saved you from them!” he pointed out, more soberly.

“But they are monsters,” Judith said. “Invaders. You are not like that.”

“Judith, I must tell you—”

“Just hold me. Please, Rannulf. I hurt so.” He heard the quaver in Judith’s voice and capitulated.

Leaves on the Wind

Carol Townend

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CAROL TOWNEND

is a Yorkshire woman whose nineteenth-century fore-bears were friendly with the Bront? sisters. Perhaps this fact had something to do with the passion for the past that led her to a history degree at London University, and on, eventually, to writing historical novels.

Widely traveled, Carol Townend has explored places as diverse as North America and Sri Lanka, Mexico and the Mediterranean. When not taking refuge from the modern world by reading historical novels or writing her own, she loves to escape to the deep countryside.

Carol Townend lives with her copywriter husband and young daughter near Kew Gardens.

Contents

Prologue (#u63b38f5c-369c-5927-a26c-a083c2d482e7)

Chapter One (#u1882440f-4166-56d5-9aff-25648818fc8d)

Chapter Two (#ud568ed53-c898-51c8-b152-e3fdfa38ebb4)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue

Beckford, Yorkshire, 1095

Judith stood in the doorway of the herbalist’s hovel, staring up at the castle. She should have been giving her full attention to the advice the old woman was offering, but whenever she came to the village it was the same. She could not tear her gaze from the blank cliff-like walls of the keep that loomed over the villagers’ simple wooden houses. Her blue eyes narrowed and fixed on the grey stone walls in much the same way as a puzzled scribe would stare at a parchment written in a language he could not understand. Two slender window slits scowled back at her from the top of the tower, like hostile eyes, she thought.

“Judith? You’re wandering,” Aethel chided gently, her rheumy eyes full of sympathy. “Did you hear what I said?”

Judith started. “I’m sorry, Aethelgyth,” she apologised, using the old woman’s full name to atone for her transgression. “You said I’m to continue giving Mother the horehound…”

“Aye, and remember: boil plenty of it in t’water, strain it off and give her the infusion. She should take it four times a day. And mind ’tis fresh each time.”

Judith wrinkled her nose. “Poor Mother. It tastes foul. And I’ve been giving it to her for so long. Don’t you think she should be improving by now?”

Aethel bent her head quickly over the herbs she was sorting and ignored the young girl’s question. “You can sweeten it with honey, if that helps,” she offered.

Judith opened her mouth to demand a more specific answer to her question, but a distant flurry at the drawbridge of Mandeville Tower drew her eyes once more in that dir