Series: Once Upon a Duchy #3
Publication date: August 31st, 2021
Synopsis:
Rhett is a Huntsman, skilled, secretive, and mysterious. A wanted man, he spends his life on the move. His sole retreat is the outskirts of an isolated village in the northern reaches of the duchies. Then one fall, he arrives to find his hovel burned to the ground and the village reeve offering a new arrangement.
Catherine knows her father, the village miller, only cares about what she can bring him. the latest scheme of marrying her to the Huntsman is not the miller's first attempt to sell her. Cat's dread wanes when she meets the Huntsman. There is something honorable about him, and he treats her with respect, unlike her father or brother. Perhaps she can escape her father's influence forever.
Despite his suspicions, Rhett agrees to the deal and frees Cat from her father's tyranny, at least for a time. But can he protect her when enemies from his past catch up to him?
Inspired by Rumpelstiltskin.
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Excerpt
Cat
The stranger was huge, tall, broad-shouldered, and very clearly at ease with his ability to physically intimidate. I had been watching Osbert fidget and cough his way through their discussion. From the scribbling, the paper shuffling, and the Huntsman's grim expressions, they were probably discussing the contract. Still, the Huntsman never relaxed into his seat. Those dark eyes routinely scanned the room, locating and noting the orientation of each of us, even me. No one ever kept track of me. I wasn't sure I liked the fact he kept glancing my way.
Then the tavern keeper's wife appeared with his dinner. The smell of cooked meat, flaky pastry, and savory vegetables filled my nose as the woman passed with the two loaded platters. My stomach roiled and growled in anticipation of food, but I ignored it. The meal wasn't for me. It was never for me. I would eat a few scraps of whatever remained from the midday meal when I returned home if my brother didn't get to them first.
Then the Huntsman stood. I felt the occupants of the room tense, well, the still sober ones. Keeping my face tilted slightly down as though I studied the table, I watched him from beneath half-lowered eyelids. He spoke to the tavern keeper's wife and then Osbert. Whatever he said pleased Osbert. I hadn't seen the man smile in ages.
A flurry of movement to my right drew my attention. Bess was on her feet. Red lips puckered, hand on her hip to emphasize her curves, and a come-hither flutter to her eyelashes, she was ready for the stranger to notice and respond to her unspoken invitation.
That must have been why he rose. I had noticed his gaze hesitating briefly in the women's direction a few times.
Unwilling to watch Bess land another conquest, I dropped my attention to my hands. Chapped and raw, they needed more salve. Tomorrow, I would see out Widow Louisa and ask for a refill of the jar she had given me last year.
"Mind if I sit here?"
The rough, deep tones resonated in my bones as my head snapped up in surprise. I just blinked at him for a moment. Why was he here? Bess wanted him. What Bess wanted, she took.
"Nod if you can't find your tongue, or Osbert might attempt to murder me."
"Osbert would never."
He chuckled that odd rusty laugh of his and set his mug on the table between us. Strangely, the liquid inside didn't smell of ale or cider. He placed the platter of food next to the mug before turning around to look for a chair. Moments later, he was sitting just around the side of the table to my left, his knee almost bumped mine.
I tucked my knee further under the table.
Despite the fact he made no indication that he had noticed my movement, I had the impression that he observed it all. I suspected that nothing slipped his notice. Instead of commenting on my avoidance, though, he calmly leaned back to untie a pouch from his belt before dropping it on the table. Then, inclining forward with companionableness as though we were the best of friends, he began rummaging through the interior of the bag.
Rachel Rossano specializes in clean romantic fiction set in historical-feeling fantasy worlds. She also dabble in straightforward historical romance and not-so-strict speculative fiction. A happily married mother of three children, she divides her time between mothering, teaching, and writing. She endeavors to enchant, thrill, entertain, and amuse through her work. A constant student, she seeks to improve her skills and loves to hear from readers.
I love medieval stories with that unique way of life. Castles, kingdoms, forests, and bravery draw me in.
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