England 1192:
(The same fictional world as Enduringly Yours.)
His voice had a deep, somewhat hoarse quality that made her heart beat faster.
He still had her hand. She realized it was probably because she was latched onto his. Alana pulled free, her face warming.
Some things in life just weren’t fair.
Unwed as of yet, he was expected to find a wife and produce an heir. He was her brother’s good friend, and she of marriageable age. In a different world, things would have been perfect. She hadn’t actually given a thing like motherhood much thought, having been more inclined to following her brother around than the more feminine pursuits, but she had to admit, there was something about John that made her want to offer up her services anyway.
Good lord, what was happening to her?
Darcy Branwyn 
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