By Susan Wiggs
Annoyed through his personal disasters at matrimony, King Henry VIII punishes an insolent nobleman via commanding him to marry the vagabond lady stuck stealing his horse. Stephen de Lacey is a chilly and sour widower, lengthy acquainted with the sovereign's capricious and malicious whims. He regards his new bride as totally inconvenient…though undeniably fetching.
But Juliana Romanov isn't any usual thief—she is a Russian princess pressured into hiding by means of the traitorous cabal who slaughtered her relations. someday she hopes to come to Muscovy to hunt vengeance.
What starts as a mockery of a wedding eventually blossoms into inner most love.
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Additional info for At the King's Command (The Tudor Rose Trilogy, Book 1)
I stare at his face, trying to maintain eye contact, but it舗s difficult because he舗s zooming away from me, receding to the end of a long black tunnel. Stars explode in my peripheral vision. 舡 Suddenly he舗s right in front of me again. I blink, wondering what he means. How the hell can I be okay? Then I realize he舗s asking whether I舗m going to cry. He clears his throat and continues. 舠You舗ll have to go back today. To make a positive identification. 舡 THE POLICE SUPERINTENDENT舒a member of our congregation舒is waiting on the platform in street clothes.
The nurse parks me in front of my meal. The gravy on the meat loaf has already formed a skin. I poke experimentally with my fork. Its meniscus jiggles, mocking me. Disgusted, I look up and lock eyes with Joseph McGuinty. He舗s sitting opposite, a newcomer, an interloper舒a retired barrister with a square jaw, pitted nose, and great floppy ears. The ears remind me of Rosie, although nothing else does. She was a fine soul, and he舗s舒well, he舗s a retired lawyer. I can舗t imagine what the nurses thought a lawyer and a veterinarian would have in common, but they wheeled him on over to sit opposite me that first night, and here he舗s been ever since.
It seems to me maybe Blackie舗s messing with me,舡 I shout, blocking another blow. Blackie lunges. I fall onto a roll of canvas, and before my head even hits I舗m yanked forward again. A moment later, my right arm is twisted behind my back, my feet hang over the edge of the open door, and I舗m facing a line of trees that passes altogether too quickly. 舠Blackie,舡 barks the old guy. 舠Blackie! Let 舗im go. 舡 Blackie yanks my arm up toward the nape of my neck and shakes me. 舡 shouts the old man. 舠We don舗t need no trouble.