As winds of change swept across the land, reformers clashed with the leaders of the church. One lone lollard, a follower of John Wycliffe, leaves his mark on Brithwin, heir of Hawkwood. But her freedom in Christ doesn’t keep her from suffering at her father’s hand and when he dies she feels only relief.
Set against the backdrop of medieval England, when kings ruled Britain, a young heiress grapples with her scarred past, and draws from the strength that past has given her in order to keep her people safe. Vowing never again to be another man’s chattel yet forced to marry a man who believes her a murderer, this young woman must look deep within herself and find the courage to trust her husband, her heart, and her God.
A world-weary knight, who has just been promised his own castle, returns home to find his family brutally murdered at the order of his betrothed. Their deaths are surely his punishment for past sins; guilt assails him and tears at his sanity. As the truth unfolds and his feelings become exposed, others he cares for are in jeopardy. He must discover who is behind this evil plot as he struggles to keep his wife safe and find forgiveness—and a loving God.
Can Brithwin learn to trust God in all things before her chance at happiness slips away? Will Rauf find forgiveness in God’s love? Can love triumph over the evil plan that is set in motion?
Read an excerpt
Upon hearing her name spoken by Thomas, Brithwin felt her heart begin to pound. She looked down at her worn clothes. She’d spent the morning outside working in her garden. Wiping her soiled hands down the sides of her tunic to remove the dirt, she raised one hand to feel her hair. Anxious to get down to her garden earlier, she hadn’t taken the time to put her hair up. Could she get to the stairs and up to her chamber without anyone seeing her? She peeked out the kitchen entrance and briefly met a stranger’s gaze. Brithwin jerked back. Thomas called her name. He’d seen her. What a way to meet her betrothed.
Taking a deep breath, Brithwin had pulled her shoulders back and tipped her head up. She was still Lady Brithwin regardless of what she wore.
He was beautiful, if you could call a man that. He dressed in fine clothes. Even from where she was standing it was obvious they were expensive. His looking Thomas in the eye had to put him over six feet tall. The muscles in his arms and chest gave proof of a warrior that wielded a sword. His hair was black—no, deepest brown—and touched his collar with the slightest hint of waves. He had a straight nose that obviously hadn’t been broken. Unusual for a knight. His square jaw and chin gave him a look of authority. But it was his eyes that held her attention. Their golden brown intelligence enthralled her. Physically, he was close to perfect.
Interest shone in those captivating eyes—until her name left Thomas’s lips. His warmth vanished and what replaced it made her shiver.
Brithwin broke the painful silence with a slight nod of her head. She raised her chin. ”We welcome you to Hawkwood, Sir Rauf.“
Thomas smiled and glanced between the two. ”Lord Rauf may I present Lady Brithwin.“
Ice ran through Rauf’s veins. This was his betrothed? He gaped wide-eyed. She was not a saint but the devil in disguise, but oh, what a lovely disguise. He would have to strengthen his resolve. If she tantalized his senses dressed in these ragged clothes, he could not imagine what she would do to him donned in a beauteous gown.
Rauf looked at this exquisite creature and knew his trials had just begun. She would surely try to use her womanly wiles on him. Every time he saw her, he would need to remind himself of the blood on her hands.
He frowned at her, and defiance blazed in her eyes. Now would be a good time for her to begin her lessons that he and he alone was her lord. With a slow gaze, he raked her from head to toe. When he had finished he spoke in a curt voice. ”I hope this is not the way my betrothed always dresses. Go clean yourself up before my men get the idea you’re a servant and expect you to serve as such.“
Brithwin almost raised her hand to close her jaw for she was sure it had dropped. Had she heard him right? Glancing at Thomas, she knew she had. Perhaps Thomas’s brain had been addled when he was younger? This was the man that he held in such high esteem? The man he thought had more honor than most? She shifted her focus back to Rauf—her betrothed. What sort of man spoke in such a way upon meeting his future wife? As abhorrence spread over his handsome face and curled his upper lip, she realized he was her worst nightmare come true.
(Painiting 'Godspeed' by Edmund Blair Leighton)
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