My Lord, the Hermit

It was on the boar hunt that the Lady Joanna injured her arm – saving a nine-year-old page from the charging beast. And there – in the forest – there was no one to help her…other than the Hermit…He was like no other hermit she had ever seen – he was young, strong and dark – and vowed to silence.

His name was Keren, but he was always called the Hermit…And as he touched her arm, and healed it, a bond was forged between them – a hopeless bond, for she was Joanna of Leybourne, ward of the Count, and he was a man sentenced to build a church with his bare hands, as expiation for the crime of murdering his wife…

©1980 Victoria Thorne (P)2014 Soundings