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408 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1993



'I will not let you go,' Dominic said harshly.
'Don’t worry, Glendruid Wolf. The people will accept you. Blackthorne is yours for as long as you live. Nothing can change that now.'
'Without you, the land and the people are a feast for a dead man. Look at me. Look into me.'

'Glendruid witch, you healed my body, my heart, and my soul…and then you stole them from me one kiss at a time. With or without heirs, I will have no other wife but you.'

“I wonder if Lady Margaret is as eager to wed as you?”
“Eager or dragging feet like a donkey, it matters not. My heir will be born by Easter next.”
“So I give you a toast, enemy mine,” John said with savage satisfaction.
“I give you a life without sons.”
“I give you a life in which you will live every minute knowing that your line dies with you."
“I give you Lady Margaret, witch of Glendruid!”
“It’s not that Meg is infertile, Lord Dominic. It’s that no Glendruid son will be conceived if there isn’t love between the parents.” .
“I will have sons!”
“So you let her sleep alone?”
“Until she bleeds. That way I’ll be certain I’m not like John, raising another man’s get.”
Dominic’s decree angered Meg. It was bad enough that he didn’t trust her not to be breeding Duncan’s bastard. It was unbearable to be wanted simply for the fruit of her womb rather than for her laughter and her companionship, her warmth and her wit, her silences and her hopes. She had so much more to share with Dominic than a future heir.
“Have you bled yet?”
“I will make you a bargain,” he said in a frigid voice. “Give me two sons and I will send you to London. There you will certainly find entertainment that pleases your wanton tastes.”
“I could be a liar, a cheat, a robber, a felon…none of it matters to you. One womb serves as well as another, so long as it comes with Blackthorne Keep.”
A man too impatient to train his falcon will lose her the first time he takes off the leash, Dominic reminded himself. I have barely succeeded in putting my leash in place, much less in training her to fly at my command and for my pleasure.
The stubborn hope that had kept generations of Glendruid women alive stirred once more within Meg, whispering to her that a man who was capable of such tenderness and laughter might also be capable of love.....but if he could love her…
If that were possible…
Then anything was possible.
Even a Glendruid son.
Come to me, Glendruid witch. See in me what you want to see. Betray your living fortress to me. Lie open and undefended for my taking.
Give me the son I must have.
“Have you bled yet, small falcon?"
"No.”
“Work with me, wife. Help me to bring peace to the land."
"How?"
"Blend Saxon and Norman blood. Give me sons.”
“Heal me, Meg.
Love me.
Give me sons.”
“Glendruid witch,” Dominic said, kissing Meg’s fingertips, “you healed my body, my heart, and my soul…and then you stole them from me one kiss at a time. With or without heirs, I will have no other wife but you.”
