Heroes of Honor: Historical Romance Collection

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “Allow me to pin your heart to your sleeve,” said Étienne, taking the heart with his name on it from her. Each heart had a pin through it, so Étienne fastened the heart to her sleeve as was custom on this day. Then he pinned the heart with her name on his sleeve as well.

  “Thank you for all you’ve done, Étienne.”

  “I am sorry I wasn’t honest with you, Pippa. But one thing I said and meant is that I have feelings for you.”

  “Is that why you stayed?” she questioned. “I thought you were leaving because you didn’t want me.”

  “I admit, I was confused about a lot of things in my life for a long while. One of the reasons I was leaving is because I have had a vision and I think my father is dead.”

  “Oh, Étienne! Then you must go to France at once to find out.”

  “I will leave after the dance,” he told her. “I wanted to be here to help you because I know how important this gathering is to you.”

  “How on earth did you convince my father to allow me to continue having my festive celebrations?”

  “It wasn’t easy, I assure you. However, I will say, he still has not accepted the fact that you are playing matchmaker to others. Pippa, he doesn’t think that is proper for a noblewoman to act in that manner.”

  “I suppose it’s not,” she said with a sigh. “Perhaps I will stop playing matchmaker once I find a match for myself.”

  Étienne was about to tell Pippa how beautiful she was when she held a finger in the air and her mouth opened wide. “Oh! Where are the lover’s knots?” she asked.

  “Lover’s knots?” asked Étienne, not sure what she meant.

  “The rope bracelets we made. I need to find them and have someone pass them out. Everyone must also choose a sprig of yarrow. If it is a healthy sprig they choose, they will find true love.”

  “I see.” Étienne loved how Pippa started rushing around the room, making sure everything was perfect for the celebration. While he had seen to making sure the hall was decorated, all the work done previously to prepare for the dance had been conducted by Pippa.

  “Don’t forget, I want all the trenchers cut into the shapes of hearts today,” she instructed the steward. “Also, tell the cook to send out the pages with the mulled, spiced wine.”

  The food was grand, the music cheery, and the games Pippa planned were enjoyed by all. A group of people sat in a circle, passing a ball behind their backs. The lover, or the person in the middle, would have to guess who had it. If they were right, they’d receive a kiss from the one who held the ball.

  Étienne watched Pippa, happier than ever, greeting the guests and keeping busy. She made sure everyone was happy and that they had enough wine.

  Étienne felt as if he wanted to be alone with her, but that wasn’t an option right now. So after they danced, he pulled her into a darkened corner of the corridor.

  “Étienne, what are you doing?” she asked with a giggle.

  “Ma chère, I wanted to tell you how beautiful you look today,” he answered, pulling her into his arms. “I also wanted to kiss you without everyone watching.”

  He kissed her then, long and passionately, letting her know that she was the one for him.

  “I liked that,” she said, looking up at him and then leaning her head on his chest.

  “Marry me, Pippa.”

  “What?” She pulled back and looked surprised.

  “I mean it. I love you and I want you to marry me and be my wife.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” A smile slowly spread across her face.

  “The answer to that would be no,” came a gruff voice from behind them.

  Étienne turned around to see his brother, Giles, standing with one of his father’s guards, watching them. His heart almost stopped.

  “Giles,” he growled, not wanting his brother to ruin what could have been the happiest moment of his life. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question,” snorted Giles. “Release my betrothed at once.”

  “Brother, we need to talk.” Étienne had to convince him to forget about the betrothal. If not, Étienne would never be able to marry Pippa.

  “Father is dead,” stated his brother. “Marcouf has inherited his holdings, and I am here to claim my bride from the alliance Father made with Baron Willoughby.”

  “Nay, I don’t want to marry you,” Pippa boldly spoke out. “I want to marry Étienne.”

  “You do?” Étienne felt emotion welling in his chest. She did want him after all.

  “You can’t,” snapped Giles. “We have an alliance and it won’t be broken. Now come with me, Lady Philippa, because you will be no one’s wife but mine.”

  “Giles, we had a deal,” Étienne reminded him. “My answer to you is that Lady Philippa is not right for you to marry.”

  “I don’t care. I want her anyway.”

  “Étienne,” cried Pippa as Giles reached out for her. Before he could touch her, the baron stepped in front of him to block his way.

  “Did I hear your father is dead?” asked the baron.

  “Aye,” answered Giles. “He passed away nearly a sennight ago when he was thrown from his horse during a joust.”

  “Then he’s really dead,” said Étienne, thinking of his own near-death experience during the joust.

  “If the earl is dead, then our agreement no longer stands,” the baron announced.

  “What do you mean? We made an alliance,” said Giles. “Do you want the House of de Beynac to declare war upon the House of Willoughby?”

  “That won’t happen, I assure you,” stated the baron. “Because, although my daughter won’t be marrying you, I have no intention of breaking the alliance.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Giles.

  “My daughter will still be marrying a de Beynac, but it will be your brother, Étienne, instead.”

  “Oh, Father, may I?” asked Pippa excitedly.

  “If you two are in love, then so be it,” answered the baron.

  Giles glared at his brother. “Étienne, if you marry her, you will never be welcome back at Chateau de Beynac again.”

  “Then he’ll stay here at Grimsthorpe Castle,” said the baron. “Honestly, I would feel honored to have him.”

  “Thank you, my lord, and I accept,” answered Étienne, watching his brother’s face turn redder. He was sure a fight was about to break out.

  “I won’t stand here and put up with this,” warned Giles. “I came here for a bride and I won’t leave without one.”

  “Then why don’t you choose a name from the bowl?” asked Pippa, motioning for her handmaid to bring it to them.

  “What kind of nonsense is this?” Giles shook his head.

  Pippa took the bowl from Marie and looked inside. “It seems you are in luck, Lord Giles. There are still a few names left.” She held it out in front of him. “Choose one of the pink hearts. Those are the names of the ladies.”

  Giles scowled and didn’t move.

  “You have traveled far, Sir Giles,” said the baron. “You and your traveling party are welcome to stay here overnight. We are in the middle of a St. Valentine’s Day celebration and you should join us.”

  “I don’t know,” said Giles.

  “Brother, have an ale and let’s forget all our differences on this day that revolves around love.” Étienne took a tankard of ale off the tray of a passing serving wench and held it out to his brother. Giles grumbled, but accepted the proffered drink.

  “I suppose it would be nice to have a bite to eat and, mayhap, rest here until the morrow,” said Giles.

  “Now, choose a heart,” Pippa urged him, holding the bowl up high.

  Giles slowly reached out and scooped a pink heart from the bowl. “Lady Alice,” he read off the name. “That was our mother’s name.”

  “Oui, and it is a good omen,” Étienne told him.

  “There is Lady Alice, if you’d like to get acquainted.” Pippa pointed to the pretty girl standing alon
e by the table with the nearly-empty bowl of yarrow.

  “Perhaps I will,” said Giles, perusing the girl with interest. He started away, and looked back over his shoulder. “Brother, mayhap we can have that talk before I leave.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” answered Étienne.

  Once he left, Franklin rushed over, standing at his father’s side. “Father, did you want to come with me to watch as people throw clay jars into the pond with names of their lovers in them?”

  “Whatever would they do that for?” asked the baron with a chuckle.

  “Because, the first name to rise to the surface is the name of the person they’ll marry,” Pippa answered for him.

  “I don’t see why not,” said the baron, ruffling Franklin’s hair. “Perhaps, I’ll have to try it now that I’m no longer getting married today. Mayhap, I’ll find someone else.”

  “I’m sure I know someone who can play matchmaker for you,” said Étienne with a smile, pulling Pippa into his arms and kissing her atop the head.

  “Nay, I won’t be able to do that anymore,” said Pippa. “I have decided to stop playing matchmaker now that I have found the man I will marry. I love you, Étienne.”

  “We’ll post the wedding banns at once,” the baron told them. “But before you two are wed, I insist on knighting Lord Étienne.”

  “My lord?” Étienne almost choked on his words. “Are you being serious?”

  “Very,” the baron answered. “I have seen the way you fight, and I admire the way you have been training my son. You also have been chivalrous to my daughter. For that, you have earned the title of knight.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” said Étienne, bowing to the man. “As my liege lord, I will honor and respect you and lay down my life for you if need be.”

  “Does this mean you are not going back to France with my sister?” asked Franklin.

  “I suppose it does.” Étienne pulled Pippa into his arms and sealed their betrothal with a kiss.

  “Father, can we make it a double wedding?” Pippa looked over to Marie and Auden standing arm in arm, talking softly to each other.

  “If that’s want you want, Daughter,” agreed the baron. “Just as long as you promise never to play matchmaker again.”

  “Can I still have gatherings and dances and elaborate celebrations?” Pippa asked her father.

  “I suppose so,” he said. “Just not too many.”

  Pippa looked to Étienne and smiled. “I don’t think I’ll have as much time now that I’m going to be a married woman.”

  “I agree,” said Étienne, kissing her once again. “Pippa, ma chère, I must say that I feel we were always meant to be together.”

  “I agree,” said Pippa, snuggling up against his chest. “We are meant to be together because anyone can see that we have Matchmade Hearts.”

  From Elizabeth Rose:

  I hope you enjoyed reading Pippa and Étienne’s story about their trials and struggles and how letting go of their fears brought them even closer.

  I placed the beginning of this book on Candlemas which is on February 2nd, because I loved finding out about the tradition of blessing candles and what it meant to the people of the Middle Ages. This was a time full of superstition as well as faith. Burning a blessed candle stub was thought to not only ward away evil spirits, but also illness.

  Valentine’s Day was named after one of several St. Valentines. I have to say, it is my favorite holiday of all. While researching its origins, I discovered that it started all the way back in the 5th Century! Pope Gelasius, who was also a prolific writer, declared February 14th St. Valentine’s Day, and a Christian holiday, trying to expel the pagan version called Lupercalia.

  Lupercalia actually sounds horrific to me. They sacrificed animals and then beat the women in the village with the hides because they believed it would bring about fertility. They did this naked and drunk of course.

  But there were better ways to celebrate the coming of spring as well as fertility than that! On Valentine’s Day, young men and women would draw hearts with names on them from a bowl to find out who their Valentine or partner would be during the celebration. Then they pinned the heart to their sleeve for everyone to see. (Sound familiar? Wearing your heart on your sleeve?”) The lottery system of pairing up couples by choosing names from a bowl is ancient. It was also used during Lupercalia. However, with that pagan tradition, the chosen name was the name of the person they would have sex with that night. Yikes!

  Through the ages, St. Valentine’s Day and the premise of love between two people grew even stronger. Unwed girls in Britain believed pinning sage or bay leaves to your pillow on Valentine’s Eve would make them dream of the man they would marry. They even went as far as standing at a window in the morning to look for a bird which symbolized the type of man they would marry. And the first man they saw that day would either be the one, or look like the man, that they would marry within a year.

  No matter how it started, what really matters is the love we hold in our hearts for others on this special day.

  May your heart be filled with love on St. Valentine’s Day and every day throughout the year.

  Watch for more books in the Holiday Knights Series coming soon!

  Holiday Knights Series:

  Mistletoe and Chain Mail

  Matchmade Hearts

  May Queen

  Be sure to only pick up a copy of Highland Storm from my new Highland Chronicles Series:

  Highland Storm

  Elizabeth

  About Elizabeth Rose

  Elizabeth Rose is the bestselling author of over 80 books. She writes medieval, historical, contemporary, paranormal, and western romance. She is an amazon all-star, and a multi-time award finalist. Her books appear as ebooks, print, and some audiobooks as well.

  Her favorite characters in her works include dark, dangerous and tortured heroes, and feisty, independent heroines who know how to wield a sword. She loves writing 14th century medievals, and is known for her medieval series.

  Elizabeth started out over twenty years ago as a traditionally published author. But life takes it twists and turns and after losing her day job she decided to try her hand at Indie publishing.

  She started self-publishing, creating her own covers and her own booktrailers on a dare from her two sons. She loves anything paranormal and is inspired by spending time in nature. Elizabeth has a secret garden that serves as her outdoor office where she writes in the summer. This same secret garden inspired her series, Secrets of the Heart, and is the setting of these books.

  Series by Elizabeth Rose:

  Secrets of the Heart

  Seasons of Fortitude

  Legendary Bastards of the Crown

  Second in Command

  Holiday Knights

  Tangled Tales

  Barons of the Cinque Ports

  Legacy of the Blade

  Daughters of the Dagger

  MadMan MacKeefe

  Elemental Series

  Greek Myth Fantasy

  Tarnished Saints

  Cowboys of the Old West

  Once Upon a Rhyme

  Sweet Nothings

  A Look Behind the Series

  You can find out more about Elizabeth’s books and read excerpts by visiting her website. Be sure to also sign up to receive her newsletter.

  Elizabeth invites you to join her private readers’ group, and follow her on social media at Twitter, Goodreads, Bookbub, Facebook, and Amazon.

  The Angel and the Prince

  A Medieval Romance Novel

  Laurel O’Donnell

  Copyright

  The Angel and the Prince Copyright © 2011 by Laurel O’Donnell

  www.laurel-odonnell.com

  Published by ODONNELL BOOKS

  ISBN# 978-0-9848895-2-5

  Cover design by Hot Damn Designs!

  www.hotdamndesigns.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this romance ebook may be reproduced in any form or by
any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its author, Laurel O’Donnell.

  The characters and events portrayed in this historical romance novel are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Apart from well-known historical figures, any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Prologue

  France, 1410

  The choir of voices ascended to the far corners of the cathedral, where sculptured angels listened with somber faces to the Latin words. Shining white marble pillars spiraled down to the steps of the great altar. At the top stair stood King Charles VI. Behind him stood eight small boys dressed in immaculate white robes, each holding a red velvet pillow with golden tassels at each corner. Upon every silky velvet pillow there rested a resplendent sword. Above and behind the boys, golden statues of saints stretched out their cold arms in welcome and forgiveness with unseeing eyes.

  The king shifted his regal stance, his gaze locked on the tall wooden doors at the back of the church. He knew eight young men waited anxiously outside, their breath tight in their chests, their palms slick with nervous sweat. Each one would enter as a squire filled with a boy’s apprehension, and each one would leave as a knight of the realm filled with a warrior’s pride.

  One of the banners caught his eye. It was for Ryen De Bouriez, the third son of Baron Jean Claude De Bouriez. King Charles scanned the mass of people before him until they came to rest on two men – the elder De Bouriez brothers. They were tall, even by knightly standards. Lucien was fair; his honeyed hair, blue eyes, and boyish looks were rumored to have cost more than one maiden her virtue. Andre was dark, with chestnut eyes and a heart of gold. Both were skilled warriors, and this pleased the king, for he knew Ryen would make an excellent addition to his troops. He studied the brothers closely. They shifted from foot to foot nervously; even Andre, who was usually so calm, seemed unsettled. The king frowned. Perhaps the two giants were uncomfortable with the civil surroundings and were eager to be out of the church. King Charles sympathized. The De Bouriezes were, after all, known for their prowess in battle, not their sociability.