Lord of a Thousand Nightsby Madeline Hunter
No woman alive could resist his tantalizing seduction....
Celebrated as “one of the brightest new writers in the genre” (Publishers Weekly), Madeline Hunter has won the hearts of readers with the poignant passion of her love stories and the brilliance of her writing. Now this nationally bestselling, award-winning author delivers her freshest,/i>
No woman alive could resist his tantalizing seduction....
Celebrated as “one of the brightest new writers in the genre” (Publishers Weekly), Madeline Hunter has won the hearts of readers with the poignant passion of her love stories and the brilliance of her writing. Now this nationally bestselling, award-winning author delivers her freshest, most tantalizing romance yet...
Called the Lord of a Thousand Nights, Ian of Guilford was famed as much for his feats in the bedroom as on the battlefield. But Lady Reyna Graham had no idea of this when, disguised as a courtesan, she passed behind enemy lines with a desperate plan to save her people.
Now, sitting in the tent of the dizzyingly handsome warrior who commanded the army outside her gates, the beautiful widow suddenly realized that she had underestimated her foe.
For she found herself in the company of a man whose charms were said to be impossible to resist...and who would show no mercy in laying siege to her heart—and body—with every sensual weapon in his arsenal.
For the sake of her people, she must not give in ... and she must somehow turn this legendary lover who never lost his heart into a man who would exchange all his thousand nights for one with her....
- Random House Publishing Group
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- Product dimensions:
- 4.10(w) x 6.81(h) x 1.06(d)
Read an Excerpt
The Scottish Border
“Be sure he drinks the wine before he gets your clothes off.”
The instruction was merely the last in a litany of warnings that Reyna had heard as she sightlessly felt her way along the cavernous tunnel.
She squeezed the thick hand of the motherly woman who accompanied her. “I will be sure to do it as planned, Alice. They appear a coarse lot, and this siege must be boring. He should be glad for the diversion.”
“There’s only one diversion most men are interested in, child. That is the danger, isn’t it?”
“Do not worry so.”
The total darkness in the tunnel terrified Reyna, so she moved quickly, one hand securely in Alice’s and the other on the wall.
Sounds resonated through the stone beneath her palm. Sappers dug their own tunnel not far from this one. Over the months, she had come to this hidden exit, torch in hand, and listened, judging their progress. She hadn’t worried at first, because surely help must come before they completed their work. It wasn’t a large army that surrounded the tower house, and a small force from either Harclow or Clivedale could easily lift the siege. But no relief had arrived, and now the sappers were within days of reaching the surrounding wall. Even more worrisome had been the second excavation progressing on the southern side of the fortress.
They reached a sharp jog to the right. A sliver of light flooded through the narrow entrance carved behind an obscuring rock formation. Thick brush further hid the entrance from view, and only someone carefully examining the entire terrain had any chance of finding it. This army had not done so thus far, and Reyna smiled at the irony of all of that digging when the postern entrance stood just feet away.
“You will know by morning if I have succeeded, Alice. Watch from the tower and alert Sir Thomas and Reginald.” Reyna took the basket that Alice carried, and tried to sound brave and calm. “I will go to my mother first, and then to Edinburgh. I will let you know when I am safe there, and you can join me.”
Alice hugged her. “It is a brave but rash plan that you have, child. Sir Robert would not have approved if he were alive.”
“If Robert were alive, I would not have to do it.”
The older woman nodded in resignation. “God go with you, then.”
Reyna pushed through the entrance and stood within the obscuring brush. Fifty yards away lay the camps that ringed the tower house. It was not a big army, but large enough to ensure that no one left and no provisions arrived. There had been no assaults, no wall scaling, no war machines hurling fire and stones. Nor had there been any negotiations. Just two months of relentless siege.
Men moved around the camp, their motions lazy in the summer heat. They didn’t wear many clothes, and their bodies had browned in the sun. A few had adopted the cooler kilts of the Scots. But these men were not Scots.
English, she thought with disgust, and the notion gave her renewed resolve. The English had been the monsters of her childhood and the enemies of her youth. Their Scottish king may have accepted defeat by King Edward of England ten years ago, but no Scot, especially those on the borders of Cumbria and Northumberland, readily submitted to the authority that the English claimed.
She knew all about English soldiers, and what would happen if their sappers succeeded in breaching the walls. Descriptions of English atrocities had been repeated for generations. She forced herself to picture people she knew being butchered and tortured, and she sought strength in those horrible images. It was not in her nature to do what she planned now, but she saw no alternative. Hopefully God would aid her, and then forgive her.
She darted out of the brush and walked at an angle until she would appear to have arrived off one of the northern paths.
The men examined her, assessing the meaning of her unbound hair and silk gown. She marched on, circling around to the western camp and the large tent in its center. When it came in sight, she slowed. Once she entered, there would be no turning back.
A lewd whistle caught her attention. Two knights grinned at each other and began walking toward her, making obscene sounds with their mouths, taunting her. Her skin prickled, and she ran the last few yards to the large tent with green-and-white pennants.
A squire sat by the entrance cleaning weapons. He looked up, startled, as she bore down on him, swept past, and plunged through the flap. She prayed that the man she sought was within, and that these others would not follow. Then again, for all she knew, he might simply shrug and let them carry her away.
The white canvas created a diffused, soft light, and it took her a moment to adjust her eyes. She looked around at the simple cot and table and chest that the tent contained. Polished armor glowed on the ground a few steps from her. Not a sound filled the space.
And then a shadow moved. A man rose from the stool where he had been sitting with his back propped against the tent’s central supporting pole.
“What are you doing here?” he asked sharply.
She just stared.
She had watched this man from the top reaches of the tower house. He was taller than most, but when everyone is just a speck that doesn’t count for much. However, she was shorter than most, and the marked difference in their sizes suddenly made her acutely aware of her vulnerability.
What she hadn’t seen from the tower was just how handsome he was. Thick lashes softened and framed dark, brooding eyes that looked like liquid smudges in this light. Sharp bones defined his cheeks and jaw. A wide, straight, slightly full mouth compelled her attention. Dark hair hung to his shoulders, bound by a sweat cloth twisted and tied around his forehead.
He wore only a pair of loose peasant chausses, cut off above the knees. Those legs were well formed, all slender muscles and tight lines. The same athletic leanness shaped his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. With his primitive garment, he reminded her of the ancient warriors she had read about in Robert’s books. He was the enemy, but her breath caught all the same.
Too bad she had to kill him.
He walked toward her. He gave her gown and hair and tinted cheeks a cool appraisal while he pulled the sweat band from his forehead and ran a strong hand through his hair. She hoped that he couldn’t see her blush, because the woman she was today would never be disconcerted by a man’s examination, no matter how handsome he might be.
His expression lightened, and he raised one speculative eyebrow. He had figured out the only part he needed to know.
Dear lord, what a smile. Close-lipped, straight, the edges barely lifting at the corners. Utterly charming, subtly suggestive, vaguely sardonic. It formed alluring little creases on either side of his mouth. It transformed the handsome face and fathomless eyes from distant and brooding to sensual and friendly.
But she saw something else as he looked down at her. She saw it in the casual stance of his body and the glint in his eyes and even in the smile itself. Conceit. Arrogance. Pride. Insufferable self-confidence. She read his awareness of the effect his face and body had on her. On all women.
She had met such men before. Her father’s household had been full of them. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind killing him so much after all.
“What are you doing here?” he repeated.
She gathered her wits. “I was called by the town of Bewton. The town sent to Glasgow to hire me. The townspeople wanted to be sure that their gift would please you, Sir Morvan.”
“Gift? Are you saying that the town bought a whore — ”
“I am Melissa, a courtesan,” she said peevishly. “I assure you I am no whore. That is why I am here. The town did not trust their bawds with such a duty.”
“And what is the purpose of this gift?”
“They hope that, if you are well pleased, you will spare the town and restrain your army.”
“And you have come to persuade me of this?” He stepped around her, examining her like an animal for purchase. She half expected him to yawn and announce that she wouldn’t do at all. “The knight who gives such an order to his men would have to be very pleased indeed. What is the good of conquering if there are no spoils?”
“The town will pay tribute. There will be spoils enough. It is the barbaric looting and rape that they wish to avoid.”
He reached out and stroked her hair, lifting a section, letting his gaze and fingers run along its considerable length. “What did you say your name is?”
“Melissa. You may not have heard of me, but I was trained by the famous Dionysia.”
“You don’t look like a courtesan to me, Melissa. I had always assumed that they were voluptuous women. You appear too puny and scrawny for it. Lovely hair, though. An unusual color. Very pale, like spun moonlight.” He still held the end of the long strand of hair, and it hung between them like a strip of silk.
“What you call puny and scrawny, great lords consider diminutive and delicate, Sir Morvan. Besides, a courtesan’s skills make such details insignificant. However, it is clear that you are base in your preferences. I will return and tell the town elders that they miscalculated.”
“Nay. It was a brilliant strategy. There is just one problem with it, and it is not your size.” He still fingered her hair. “I am not Sir Morvan.”
“But this is the largest tent, in the center of the camp. I was told that this army belongs to Morvan Fitzwaryn.”
“It does at that, but I command here. Morvan is occupied elsewhere. The main army is at Harclow.”
No wonder help had not come. Everyone in the tower had assumed that Morvan Fitzwaryn had first besieged this outlying fief in order to have a foothold before he tried to take the more formidable Harclow, but the man had attacked both strongholds at once. And Clivedale, too? How big was this army?
She rapidly recalculated. If this man commanded here, the plan should work as well with him as with his lord.
“If you are not Morvan Fitzwaryn, who are you?”
“Ian of Guilford.”
“And you truly command here?”
“Aye. The fate of this tower and the nearby town are in my hands. If the town sent you to negotiate, you have the wrong name, but the right man. Their gift was intended for me.”
He regarded her in a frank way that thoroughly unsettled her. His gaze contained the consequences of failure that she had carefully avoided thinking about.
Her courage disappeared in a blink. “It is unfortunate, then, that you do not find me to your taste. I will leave now.”
“I insist that you stay. You will lose your pay otherwise, and you traveled a long distance. It was churlish of me to criticize such a gift. Besides, if you were trained by the famous Dionysia, I doubt that there will be disappointment.”
He stepped yet closer, and his dominating size and masculinity assaulted her. She groped for excuses to leave. “These men appear to be mercenaries. Will they obey you on this? No doubt they are to be paid with spoils.”
“They are mercenaries, but they are my mercenaries, and will obey me. Morvan Fitzwaryn pays with silver, not the promise of looting. They probably hoped for some, but it was not part of their bargain.”
“What if something happens to you?”
“I did not realize that the townspeople had sent a lawyer as well as a courtesan. Do your favors first require a contract with all eventualities covered?”
His words and look reminded her of who she was supposed to be, and why she was here. She thought of the danger to the innocents in the tower house if the fortress fell, and of the horrible death awaiting her if it did not. Her plan was the only way to solve both those problems.
“Let us get undressed, Melissa, so that you can show me this great art of yours.” He coolly regarded the cot. “Hardly fitting for a courtesan. Would you prefer some furs on the ground? More room, then.” He strode to the other side of the tent and scattered several large furs. “Aye, that will be better.”
He began unlacing the tie on his chausses. “On your hands and knees the first time, I think.”
She watched with horror this too rapid development of events. “Sir Ian, you do not understand. As I told you, I am not a whore. I am a courtesan. We do things differently.”
“Really? And here I had made it a point to try it every way there was. I look forward to learning something new.”
Aye, killing him was not going to be hard at all. “That is not what I meant. Courtesans do not just couple like beasts. We create a whole mood and experience. There is much preparation and relaxation first.”
His hands left his garment. “You will have to instruct me, madam. I am just a simple knight. I am accustomed to whores who do a man’s bidding. I see that with courtesans it is the other way around.”
“You will get all that you desire, and more. But I have been trained in many arts besides those. Music, conversation — Surely after living little better than an animal in these tents, a courtly evening must appeal to you. Here, let me show you.” She marched to the furs, retrieved some nearby bags, and used them to create a bolster at one end. “Now, rest yourself. There. Isn’t that better?”
He stretched out on the furs, his head and shoulders propped against the bags. She knelt beside him and lifted the cloth from the basket. She laid out the meat pies and wine cup, and then poured the good Bordeaux wine. She offered him the cup.
He sipped and looked over at her. “You will not have any?”
“Nay. It makes me less skilled. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”
He nibbled at a meat pie and raised his eyebrows appreciatively. “Whether you surpass the camp whores remains to be seen, but your food definitely surpasses the camp cooking.”
She beamed foolishly, and almost launched into an explanation of the herbs she had used before she caught herself. “Shall I play the flute for you while you eat?”
Meet the Author
Madeline Hunter is a nationally bestselling author of historical romances who lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and two sons. In a parallel existence to the one she enjoys as a novelist, she has a Ph.D. in art history and teaches at an East Coast university.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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Too many character but an enjoyable read nevertheless. LORRAINE
This was an entertaining book -- had some plot twists -- kept me interested til the end.
In order to save her home of Black Lynne Keep from the lengthy siege from the mercenary troops of Ian of Guilford (cleverly nicknamed Lord of a Thousand Nights for his bedroom prowess blah blah blah)Reyna decides to sacrifice herself by sneaking into the enemy camp, disguised as a courtesan, to seduce and murder Ian of Guilford. She fails in her mission and Black Lynne Keep is taken. Ian is intrigued by Reyna and her strange relationship with her late husband as well as the mystery surrounding his death. Reyna is the prime suspect in the man's demise and in order to save her from returning to her home and her abusive family, he decides to marry her. Thus ensues a bland and unpleasant courtship. Being a fan of Regency romances I was hesitant to start a Medieval novel, regardless of my love for Madeline Hunter's work. I see now that I should have trusted my first instincts. I was not entirely thrilled with the primitive setting of a rural Scottish fortress. It was not helped by the fact that besides the lack of imagination that went into the characters, it seemed that the Reyna and Ian just did not seem to like each other. Reyna was flighty and indecisive. She played an infuriating game of Yes and No in regards to her attraction to Ian. Each time she would come remotely close to sex with him she would utter the same irritating phrase.....'I Can Not'. Sooooooo frustrating. It was all I could do to finish this book.
This was my very first romance novel I read...and happy it was! This story has the typical romance, but there is this big secret you would never guess...well maybe if you read a lot of romance books... Anyways, I love how Lady Reyna's attitude is to the Lord of a Thousand Nights, Ian of Guilford! Plus you meet a lot of new characters you'll hate at first, but then fall in love at the end. I recommend this book if you like a Lady who goes undercover to save her people from a knight who can woe any lady. And if you like twist and turns in the last chapters!
I'd heard how great this author was and Lord of a Thousand Nights was the first book I could find to read. Although it wasn't the first in the series it was a magnificent story. Great characters, too. Ian and Reyna really loved each other and the plot held my interest throughout the entire book. I did love those friends of Ian's too; David and Morvan. Wow! I was really smitten with them. Can't wait to read their stories. I also found their wives, Christiana and Anna very endearing. This is still a typical romance novel, but the writing style of MH makes it different in a subtle, yet important way. Her heros are cool, a little inigmatic, and sexy.
I would have to say that this author writes excellent historical romances. Her writing is superb and suspenseful. You never know what will happen to her characters next, or what the characters' motivations are for their actions until later in the book.
I have read this book and it is so great there are no words to describe it. It shows how two people who hate eachother, overcome the obstacle of handling eachother and to learn to love and care for eachother. See what I told you. There are aren't many words to describe this book, the way it should be described. But here are some words that can relate to this book: fantastic, spectacular, great, endless, and excellent! Madeline writes books and her characters so good that we fall in love with them so very much. So I recommend this book to you and just watch, you'll be speechless!
In 1357 on the Scottish border, widow Lady Reyna Graham concocts a dangerous but necessary plan to try to save her people. The siege led by English mercenary Ian Guilford and his ally Morvan Fitzwaryn (star of THE PROTECTOR) is working so well that it jeopardizes her clan. Reyna dresses up as a courtesan to gain access to her enemy¿s camp so that she can kill Ian, known for his military and boudoir prowess as the LORD OF A THOUSAND NIGHTS. However, Ian is not anything like Reyna¿s deceased much older spouse Robert and so she underestimates his intelligence while her efforts to protect her people intrigues him. However, he learns that her past is an enigma as rumors abound that she killed Robert. As Reyna and Ian bond in love, someone plans a different unhappy ending for this duo. Madeline Hunter continues to provide reader with some of the best medieval romances on the market today. Her latest tale, LORD OF A THOUSAND NIGHTS, is a strong story containing two deep characters agonizing between love and responsibility. The story line contains much of the elements found in most sub-genre tales, but several twists and turns keep the reader guessing as to what happens next and who Reyna really is. The return of characters from the Hunter pantheon of novels provide a myth like depth that proves once again that when it comes to fourteenth century romance, readers should hunt down novels by this wonderfully skilled writer. Harriet Klausner
I would of given this book more stars if it had a better plot. Good characters but again the plot wasn't all that great. I recommend that if someone would like to read this book,to check it out at the library or something. This is one of those books where you'll read it once but no more than that.