Come the Morning by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online

were a threat.
    They always would be.
    He had sent for Mellyora so quickly after her father’s death mainly because Vikings were so dangerous. He had accepted her homage, then told her his plans for her future—immediate plans—because Vikings were so dangerous.
    And the lass before him was far too Viking for her own good, no matter her maternal ancestry and her dead father’s loyalty to Scotland, and to him. Adin had been proven. This was a girl facing him, one with dangerous desires and dangerous kin. But she was also an heiress with an outstanding inheritance. A stubborn heiress, dangerous herself. Even if she thought herself loyal to him, she could be manipulated. She was his own godchild; he had stood by her father, recently converted to Christianity, at her birth, and he had watched her grow. Now, she was his ward. He had mulled her future for a very long time, firmer plans revolving in his mind as Adin had continued to mourn his wife at her death, refuse to marry again, and thus, fail to sire a male inheritor. He was greatly pleased with his decision; he was a king who granted time for an audience with his poorest subjects on an almost daily basis, and he was quick to reward those who served him.
    Not only was this girl one of the most wealthy heiresses in his realm, she was young, stunning, healthy, and vibrant. Many men had asked the king for her, most discreetly, while her fierce father lived. He had firmly turned down all pleas and entreaties. There were few men who deserved such a prize, and such power. A power which required a love of Scotland, loyalty to the royal Scottish house of Canmore, and a sense of the new growing nationalism. Perhaps the kings of Scotland had been forced to pay a certain homage to the kings of England; the lines of a separate country had been drawn, and through both warfare and diplomacy, God willing, they would only strengthen.
    And by God, his errant young ward would understand, and do his will. Without question. He was a good king, and he knew it. Honored for the introduction of new laws, creating new commerce, minting coins, and more. He was a strong and intelligent king, a warrior and a statesman. He could be both merciful and merciless. And watching her now, as she stood before him, silent, chin set stubbornly, he knew that it would not be easy to be merciless.
    But by God, she had too many Viking kin. And Vikings were dangerous. They always would be.
    They had stared at one another now for a very long time, he thought. Too long a time.
    â€œYour marriage will take place, and, my lady, you do understand my position?” David said, his tone courteous—and unyielding.
    She still did not respond.
    She stood like a stone statue, as if she were a carved creation of mythical beauty crafted by the talented hands of an artist to grace the king’s great hall at Stirling. She evenly returned the king’s stare, betraying no true feelings with either the slightest movement or expression. The perfect marble smoothness of her face remained cool and impassive; the endless deep blue of her eyes remained fixed upon the king.
    She intends to fight me , David thought. But perhaps not here, not now. How?
    She hadn’t disputed him yet, but then again, neither had she agreed with a single word he had said since he had turned down her bid to remain in power herself in those lands which had been held by her father until his recent, lamentable death. He had summoned her to Stirling to give her the good news about her upcoming marriage. Amazingly, she had come to pay homage as her father’s heir, expecting that he would allow her to remain lady of the isle in her own right. He had known she’d wanted to speak; he hadn’t given her a chance. He’d immediately told her his plans for her.
    And she didn’t like them.
    His fingers curled around the arms of the handsomely carved chair. He hadn’t seen her in quite some time, Mellyora, granddaughter of a