Cynthia Hilyer, this is all yours...
Cynthia sat on the edge of the rocky
outcrop, sheltered from the wind by some gorse bushes, and looked at the scene
played out below her.
From this distance it looked like ants
scurrying about carrying grains of wheat, or sugar, preparing for winter.
Of course it was nothing like that.
Those ants were people, the wheat or sugar
large sacks and packs, and the activity was all because of her.
Her and some red headed Scottish laird
called Ruari McColl.
Her betrothed.
Cyn pulled her knees up and rested her chin
on the thick linen skirt that covered them.
Ruari McColl
What the hell did she know about him?
Not a lot.
In face until this last month she’d never
even heard of him, let alone met the man.
Happily living in Rutland, with only her
personal staff to look after her, she’d be the first to admit she hadn’t had a
conventional life—anything but.
Her mama had died giving birth to her, and
her grieving papa threw himself into working for king and country and was never
home.
Until...
Catch all the other #MidWeekTease posts here
Happy reading,
love Raven x
An intriguing tease, Raven. :-)
ReplyDeleteSounds like she has a great view. I look forward to more!
ReplyDelete