By Gerri Russell
The artifacts have been legendary—the sword of Charlemagne and the Holy Grail. And now they have been long past, stolen through those that was hoping to take advantage of their mystical powers to smash Scotland.
Sensuous as sin and wild because the Highlands, Sir Simon Lockhart needs to reclaim the treasure whereas keeping his fellow Templars opposed to a madman who desires to wipe out the order and guarding his middle opposed to a red-haired attractiveness whose maximum want is to run headlong into danger.
Brianna St. Clair had educated approximately her complete lifestyles to be a knight and is haunted by way of premonitions of a negative conflict. It’s those very visions that Simon hopes will cause them to the treasure and the traitor. yet whereas Brianna can wield a sword in addition to any guy, she has no safety opposed to the seductive pull of… A Knight to wish
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Additional info for A Knight To Desire (The Brotherhood of the Scottish Templars, Book 3)
It made sense in military terms, but Wulf did not think that Guthlac had the first intention of forging an alliance with Erica of Whitecliffe. Guthlac's eyes glittered with loathing; they were hard as glass in the flare of the torches. He was toying with her and she knew it. The fish was settling uncomfortably in Wulf's stomach. Guthlac's eyes were warning him that the feud between his housecarls and Lady Erica's was far from dead; the man was biding his time. And Hrothgar? Eyeing the lady's bosom.
Wulf could hear nothing of note over the clatter of knives and the guffaws and the general babble of conversation. He had to get closer... Meals in this fenland castle were taken very differently to meals in King William's barrack-hall at Westminster. Here, no weapon stacks bristled with arms by the walls; instead, men wore their arms to table. They sat with their swords jutting out behind them, an ever-present hazard for servers approaching the benches with dishes and ale jugs. The continual bearing of arms by every able-bodied man in the camp reminded Wulf, if reminder were needed, that he was breaking bread with outlaws.
So it was with those lower in the ranks, he thought, lifting his gaze once again to the noblemen and commanders clustered around the board; that is what we are reduced to, fighting over scraps dropped by those above. Parchments were scattered across the tabletop--maps, most likely. Wulf knew what the lords were about: they were busy slicing up lands won in the recent conflict. Estates that had once belonged to Saxon noblemen were being parcelled out among King William's most loyal supporters. Campaigns for suppressing rebellion were being planned; offers were being made for the most wealthy of the Saxon widows and heiresses.