Excerpt Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Copyright
What a silly little fool Mina had been for thinking that Roger de Montmorency might be any different from every man she had ever known.
She had been a dolt to feel anything for him.
The idea that Sir Roger could make her swoon with ecstasy without even trying was enough to make her grind her teeth in anger. The boastful, vain, pompous creature! No doubt all the women he had made love to so far had been serving wenches or peasants who believed there was something special about a nobleman, or who wanted something in return, like money or advancement.
Well, she knew better. Noblemen were men first, and seldom noble. If her betrothed thought he could Just crook a finger and find Mina Chilcott waiting patiently in the nuptial bed, he would soon learn otherwise....
Dear Reader,
Kathe Robin of Romantic Times had this to say about award-winning author Margaret Moore’s new Medieval, The Norman’s Heart: “A story brimming with vibrant color and three-dimensional characters. There is emotion and power on every page.” We hope you enjoy this delightful story of the marriage of staid Sir Roger de Montmorency and the willful Lady Mina Chilcott.
Taylor Ryan’s first book, Love’s Wild Wager, was part of our popular March Madness promotion featuring talented new authors. With her second book, this month’s Birdie, she returns to Regency England and Ireland to tell the touching story of a woman of noble blood who was raised on the streets.
Our two other titles for the month include Man of the Mist from Elizabeth Mayne, the sweeping tale of a Scottish officer who finally returns to claim his young bride, now a grown woman. And from longtime Harlequin Historical author Lynda Trent, The Fire Within, a haunting story of lovers who must choose between the past and the future.
Whatever your taste in reading, we hope Harlequin Historicals will keep you coming back for more. Please keep a lookout for all four titles, available wherever books are sold.
Sincerely,
Tracy Farrell
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
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The Norman’s Heart
Margaret Moore
MARGARET MOORE
Prior to embarking on her writing career, Margaret Moore studied English Literature at the University of Toronto, taught basic military training in the Royal Canadian Naval Reserve and worked for every major department store chain in Canada.
Margaret is married to a man whose eyes really change color. They have two children and live in Scarborough, Ontario.
To the independent Warren women and the
self-confident men who married them.
Chapter One
Rain pelted against the stone walls of Montmorency Castle and drummed on the closed shutters. The wind moaned softly about the battlements, and heavy clouds scudded across the full moon.
Inside the hall, Sir Roger de Montmorency paced impatiently, ignoring everyone, including Sir Albert Lacourt, who leaned against one of the many trestle tables, his arms crossed and his head bowed as if deep in thought. An occasional sharp glance at Sir Roger betrayed some anxiety on his part as well.
A huge fire burned in the new hearth, and most of the wedding guests huddled near it, awaiting the lavish evening meal intended to welcome Sir Roger’s bride. The bright banners of the visiting nobility hung from the walls; fine beeswax candles burned upon the linen-covered, flower-strewn tables, and in honor of the festive occasion, fresh herbs had been sprinkled over the rushes on the floor.
Dudley, the steward, a Saxon who had been in the service of the de Montmorencys his whole life, looked about to have an apoplectic fit as he scurried between the kitchen corridor, the tables and the door. The maidservants, idly waiting to serve the food, stood near the corridor and whispered among themselves. Dudley signaled them to hush before he peered again into the rain and the dark of the night, running his hand over the few remaining white hairs on his nearly bald head. The question in his eyes and the unspoken words on the tip of his tongue were obvious to all present: What was keeping the bride?
Sir
