Enchanted Cottage (Avador Book 3, Books We Love Fantasy Romance) Read Free

would want a woman with such an ugly face?”
    He smiled again. “Perhaps someday a man will love you for yourself.”
    “Not a chance!” She spoke flippantly, but fresh tears threatened to spill. She turned away, biting her lower lip.
    “Let things happen as they will.”
    She looked his way again, but he was gone. Disappeared, just like that! Could he be one of the immortal folk who dwelt among the hills?
    Countless seconds passed, then she raised her dress over her head and tossed it onto an earthberry bush. Clad only in her shift, she waded out into the water, shivering with the cold. She winced as she stepped onto sharp rocks that studded the shore. She waded farther out until the water reached her waist. With fast, sure strokes, she swam, soothed by the undulating motion of the water, the sunshine warming her back.
    For these few carefree moments, she tried to forget her misery, yet Morag’s words came back to taunt her. “The people will shun you.” With determination, she swam farther out, until the shore was a hazy outline beneath the late morning sun. Well aware she couldn’t escape her dilemma, she turned and swam back. She must defeat this curse and expose Morag Delaney as an evil sorceress.
     
    * * *
     
    Beset by hunger and thirst, exhausted from his long journey, Colin Duffrey plodded through the forest. His upper right arm ached, the sword wound an angry red and swollen. Foul smelling pus leaked from the battle injury. His head ached; his teeth chattered as chills raced over his body. He swore, fearful he would lose his arm if he didn’t stem this infection, but he knew nothing about medicine. Talmora! I must not lose my arm! What kind of a soldier would he be with only one arm? How in the name of the Goddess could he fight?
    Nor had his troubles ended with this injury. He had lost his horse in the battle and hadn’t had the opportunity to purchase another.
    As the younger of two sons, he knew he would never inherit the family estate. So he had hired himself out as a mercenary soldier to Elegia in its never-ending war with Fomoria. But now…. He stopped to rest against a maple tree, afraid he couldn’t go much farther. Rest, he needed rest. He closed his eyes for a moment, his ears buzzing. His knees buckled under him but he caught himself in time. The constant rubbing of his tunic sleeve against the wound drove him crazy, so he rolled the sleeve up. There, much better.
    Disgraced and demoted for insubordination, he headed home to rest and recover. Yet Ulaidh was still days away, and that was by horse. He’d never reach his village. Swiping the sweat from his forehead, he pushed himself away from the tree. He had to get home. Two years since he’d last seen his family! His throat tightened. His family—only his father and brother. Letters often didn’t get through, and at other times, the Fomorians wouldn’t permit correspondence to get past their lines. His mother had passed on to the Otherworld several years ago, and he feared his father would soon join her, for he suffered from heart trouble.
    He had thought to take this shortcut through the forest, then connect with the Royal North Road later, where he would find inns along the way. But this trek was taking longer than he’d anticipated.
    He licked dry lips; the ground tilted around him. It was agony to lift one foot in front of the other. His knapsack weighed him down, the sword at his side another burden.
    He looked off in the distance and saw a clearing, a cottage set in its midst. Strange. Why was a cottage set here, in the middle of nowhere? Never mind! If he had any luck—a scarce commodity these days—the owner might offer him food and a place to rest. He tapped the coin purse attached to his metal belt. He would pay the owner, if it came to that.
    Wending his way among the oaks and maples, he staggered to the front door and dropped his knapsack. He knocked, faint with the effort. He waited a few moments, then knocked again,