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Welcome to another week on my Medieval Monday blog. Today I jumped a little ahead from where I left off in A Knight To Call My Own. This picks up the chapter with Rolf on the parapet of Berwyck Castle. Rolf… let me just say I loved everything about this knight, and it just about killed me to… well… I won’t spoil it for anyone who may not have read this medieval romance. Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies!


Rolf stood silently on the narrow parapet, gazing into the darkness of the night. He could not see far enough to espy the vast ocean, but he could hear the sound of the surf pounding ruthlessly into the shore far below him. Normally, such a sound would fill him with wonder at the power of the sea, but not this eve. Tonight, he was ill at ease on what the coming days would bring, or not bring, should he fail in his quest. He still held a small sum of hope that Kenna’s vision would not come to pass.

He did not have to turn his sight far to witness the goings on of life at camp. Tents filled the area surrounding Berwyck’s walls of those who also hoped to win the fair Lynet. The smell of campfire smoke and the fire light from the torches on the battlement walls filled the air. The fumes and smells made his nose twitch, causing him to sneeze. Muffled laughter and speech was barely audible from those who were still awake, each man bragging of his own sin-gular prowess, and how he, too, would have the young bride at the end of the games.

He lifted his head heaven bound to stare at the thousands of stars splashing across the moonlit sky. Closing his eyes, he gave a silent plea God would answer his request. ’Twas a heartfelt prayer he offered up to the heavens, and yet as Rolf gazed once more upon the open skies above him, he felt nothing giving evidence that his petitions would be met. Apparently God did not make bargains with mortal men when it came to falling in love and what the heart desired… more is the pity.

Hearing the hinges of the turret door squeak open, Rolf turned to see who would be coming up to the rooftop at such a late hour. Most had already made their way to their chambers hours ago to rest afore the games began. Slumber, however, eluded Rolf, espe-cially when he was wound so tight. The games could not begin soon enough for him to take out his frustration upon the field.

A splash of wispy material caught his attention when the unmistakable figure of a woman appeared through the turret portal. The instant she emerged from the shelter of the doorway, a gusty breeze caught her gown, and all but floated around the vision afore his eyes. ’Twas almost as if God himself had sent him an angel in answer to his appeal. She attempted to gather the garment around her and at last made some progress when she pulled a tartan around her head, clutching the plaid at her breasts.

Rolf watched her progress across the battlement walls with interest. His placement concealed in the shadows, she obviously did not see him standing on the parapet. So engrossed was she to reach the wall herself, she stumbled, letting out a startled gasp when her foot caught on the last step. Crying out in alarm, she began to sprawl face forward, causing Rolf to swiftly close the remaining distance between them. He caught the young girl in his arms afore any harm could befall her.

Her flowery scent was the first thing to assault his senses, and he did not need to see her face to know just whom he held in his arms. His limbs seemed to have a life of their own as they offered her the support she stood in need of as she regained her balance. He took a step nearer ’til both her hands came up and pushed hard against his chest. He stood firm in his resolve to keep her at his side. His hands slid to her waist as he inched her even closer into his embrace.

“How dare you,” she shrieked in outrage. Her face rose to meet his ’til recognition set in. “Rolf?”

“Good eve to you, Lynet.”

“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

He gave an amused chuckle. “I could ask you the same question. Perchance, could you not sleep, either?”

“Nay, I could not, and my chamber was stifling. I had enough of my tossing and turning. I decided I needed some fresh air.”

“I understand your plight completely, my lady.” Rolf watched her face whilst she apparently came to the realization he was holding her far too close. Her hands moved from his chest and went instead to his arms.

“You should not be holding me thusly. ’Tis not seemly. What would someone think if they came upon us?”

“Mayhap, they would think there was no longer any need for a tourney and your hand was already spoken for,” Rolf murmured.

There was no mistaking the feeling of contentment that was racing through him whilst holding her close. “There is no need to worry about the guards, for they are busy at their watch, so they will pay us no mind. Besides, I believe I like the way you feel in my arms and would like to keep you here as long as you would allow it.”

A small smile lit her lips. “I should return to my chamber,” she whispered softly, and yet, she made no effort to leave. Instead, she began caressing the fabric of his tunic.

“Stay with me,” he insisted.

Lynet gave the briefest of hesitations afore replying. “Only for a moment or two, but then, I must depart.”

A Knight To Call My Own
By Sherry Ewing

When your heart is broken, is love still worth the risk?

Lynet of clan MacLaren knows how it feels to love someone and not have that love returned. After waiting for six long years, she has given up hope of Ian’s return. Her brother-in-law, the Devil’s Dragon of Berwyck, is tired of waiting for her to choose a husband and has decided a competition for the right to wed Lynet is just the thing his willful charge needs to force her hand.

Ian MacGillivray has returned to Berwyck Castle in search of a bride and who better than the young girl who cared for him all those years ago. But Lynet is anything but an easy conquest and he will need more than charm to win her hand in marriage.

From the English borders to the Highlands of Scotland, the chase is on for who will claim the fair Lynet. The price paid will indeed be high to ensure her safety and even higher to win her love.

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To read last week’s excerpt in case you missed it, you can find it here: https://sherryewing.com/2023/03/20/medieval-monday-with-a-knight-to-call-my-own-by-sherry-ewing-2/

About Sherry Ewing:

Sherry Ewing picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. An award-winning and bestselling author, she writes historical and time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. When not writing, she can be found in the San Francisco area at her day job as an Information Technology Specialist. Learn more about me and my books on the tabs above or follow me on these social media links!

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