Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Regal thought a moment. “Deep, sweet voice?”

  “Aye.”

  “Like the sound of rolling thunder?”

  “Aye.”

  Regal fell silent as Teodora lost herself to thoughts of Cullen. Suddenly, there were hands poking at her face and Teodora realized that Regal had risen and walked the length of the room and she hadn’t even heard her. Having long since learned not to push her grandmother’s inquisitive hands away, she stood still as Regal drew her cold fingers across her cheeks.

  “You are quite warm, child,” Regal said in a soft, knowing voice. “This is the man who consummated the marriage?”

  “Aye.”

  “Sir Cullen turns your head, doesn’t he?”

  Teodora did pull away, then, feeling her cheeks grow hotter. “He is my husband’s champion. And mine.”

  Regal smiled. “My goodness, Teodora. I’ve never heard such reverence in your voice when speaking of another human being, and especially a man. You are smitten with him.”

  Teodora took a deep breath, trying to ease her burning face. “Foolishness, Grandmere. I shall not hear such talk.”

  Regal laughed softly, turning away. “I must meet this young knight. Indeed, I must.” She plopped herself down on a silk-cushioned seat. “Was he careful with you, then? Did he steal your virginity like a gentle thief or wrench it from you like an animal?”

  Teodora rolled her eyes beseechingly. “Must you ask me these things?”

  “Of course I must.”

  “It is none of your affair.”

  “Aye, it is. You must tell me of this man who has stolen not only your purity but your heart.”

  Teodora gasped, as if shocked by the mere suggestion. “I shall not tell you anything, Grandmere.”

  “You miss him even now, don’t you?”

  “I am not listening to you.”

  “You’d go to him at this moment if you could, madly and freely.”

  Teodora opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a loud rapping on the door. Startled, she stared at the panel dumbly until the rap came again and, hesitantly, she moved to the door.

  The old panel creaked open, carefully. Teodora peered out into the corridor to be confronted by two smiling faces. Two knights, dressed to the hilt in armor and the blue and white de Lacy coat of arms, bowed graciously to her.

  “Lady Barklestone,” the first knight had a soft, soothing voice. He was not an unhandsome man, with smooth skin and a dark mustache that grew down either side of his mouth. But when he smiled, his horse-like teeth gave him a rather annoying appearance. “I am Sir Godfrey Sudeley. Welcome to London, my lady.”

  Teodora remained silent, glancing at the second knight. He was an older man, bulky, with dark hair that was graying at the temples and intense brown eyes. He smiled and clicked his heels together smartly.

  “Sir Hamilton Banbury at your service, my lady,” he said briskly. “Lord Preston has asked us to take care of any needs you might have while he is indisposed.”

  Teodora stuck her head out into the hall, looking to see if there were any de Lacy soldiers around, but the corridor was vacant. She’d never seen these knights before, but she assumed they were being truthful. Rodstone was a protected manor and there were soldiers and servants everywhere, so it was unlikely that two strange knights could have slipped in. Giving the knights a second, more critical look, she opened the door wider.

  “Do you serve my husband?” she asked.

  Godfrey nodded. “Indeed, my lady. Our duties are limited to Rodstone House.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means we remain here no matter where Lord Preston is. He must maintain a presence in London, and that is why we remain. We are his eyes and ears in London whilst he is away.”

  She understood that, sort of. “But Sir Cullen travels with him.”

  “That is because Sir Cullen is his champion. Where Lord Preston goes, Sir Cullen goes.”

  “Where is Sir Cullen?” Teodora could have strangled herself for asking such a question, but it had come out so quickly, so naturally, she could hardly stop it. She could only pray, after the fact, that she hadn’t sounded too eager.

  But if Godfrey thought the question appeared anxious, he did not let on. He smiled politely and Teodora found herself staring at his big yellow teeth. “He and Lord Preston are occupied with affairs requiring their attention,” he said. “In case no one has told you, half of London grinds to a halt if Sir Cullen is not here to oversee things.”

  Teodora cocked her head with interest. “Oversee? Oversee what?”

  Godfrey shrugged, looking to Hamilton for support. “Good Christ, everything I can think of. He advises several of the great manor homes along the Thames on matters of training and security. It is rather complex, but he was doing it before he ever went to serve Lord Preston, and Lord Preston has allowed him to continue. I believe he was consulting when he served William Marshal, in fact. And then there are his architectural duties…”

  “Architectural duties?”

  “Aye,” Hamilton stepped in. “Sir Cullen is helping to design a grand new palace for Lord Preston, a monstrous structure in Lincolnshire. Most everyone knows of Sir Cullen’s talent for such things because of his talent for mathematics and engineering.”

  “I see,” Teodora realized she sounded awed. “He is brilliant in such matters, then?”

  Hamilton nodded. “Have you not known this, my lady?”

  “Nay,” Teodora shook her head. “I have only seen that he is a great knight, well-versed in military skills.”

  “Sir Cullen is a man of many talents,” Godfrey said. “Which is why, at this moment, he is assisting Lord de Lacy and we, as his unworthy vassals, are asked to make comfortable the new countess. Is there anything you require before this eve’s events?”

  Teodora’s brow furrowed. “What events?”

  Godfrey smiled. “Why, the grand banquet, of course. You and your husband have been invited to Westminster Palace. The king and his court will be there.” Godfrey could see Teodora’s puzzled expression. “Were you not told, my lady?”

  Teodora shook her head. “I was not.”

  Quickly, she went over the wardrobe Regal had brought from home and realized with horror that she had nothing grand or beautiful to wear, and they never had purchased any fabric before the battle in Leominster, so there wasn’t even anything she could have commissioned. But not knowing these knights, she was horribly embarrassed to admit such a thing; imagine that the Lady Barklestone did not own a proper wardrobe! The only person who knew her clothing situation was Cullen, and he was indisposed.

  Or perhaps he wasn’t.

  Teodora intended to find out.

  “I require Sir Cullen immediately,” she demanded with more force than she had intended. “You will find him and send him to me at once.”

  Godfrey looked taken aback at her tone. “But, my lady, he is extremely…”

  “I require him,” Teodora snapped back. When Godfrey looked indecisive, she used all of her considerable height to intimidate him. “Now.”

  Godfrey immediately agreed. It was apparently an easy thing to intimidate him. Hamilton stepped in, then. “Surely, my lady, we can assist you just as ably as Sir Cullen.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. “At this moment, you cannot. You will do as I ask. This is a matter of vital, utter importance, and no one can help me but Sir Cullen.”

  “But…”

  “I command it.”

  Those were the magic words. Reluctantly, the knights bowed and marched in unison down the corridor, disappearing from view as they disappeared into the stairwell. Teodora watched them until they were out of sight before retreating into her chamber and closing the door. Leaning against the bolted panel, she crossed her arms with a sigh.

  “You cannot go to Sir Cullen madly and freely, so you shall bring him to you.” Regal had heard the entire conversation. “My wise, wise girl. You would see him no matter what the fooli
sh reason. You are, indeed, smitten with him, aren’t you?”

  Teodora looked at the woman, feeling her guard slip away. There was really no use in denying it. Regal may have been blind, but she could still see a great deal. She wasn’t stupid.

  “More than smitten,” she whispered. “It has become more than that and I do not know how, only that it has.”

  Regal’s expression suggested that she already knew that. “He has your heart, lass.”

  Teodora knew the woman couldn’t see her, but she nodded anyway.

  It was all she could manage.

  Cullen was a filthy mess. He had been on the training grounds to the west of Rodstone House, a vast field of dust and sweat, when Godfrey and Hamilton had found him, informing him that Lady Barklestone was in desperate need to speak to him. She had actually ordered them to send Sir Cullen to her.

  They’d had no choice.

  Sweaty and dirty from having spent the past several hours dealing with fifty new men Preston wanted to recruit into his ranks after the attempt against his life, Cullen made his way into Rodstone House. From the looks he received from the servants, he was positive he smelled as bad as he looked. By the time he reached the master’s suites, his normally cool temper was in danger of flaring.

  Pounding on the door, the panel opened to Teodora’s smiling face. But it was a smile that quickly vanished when she saw his unhappy expression.

  “My lady has summoned me?” he asked.

  Teodora swore he spoke through clenched teeth. No darling dimples for her to swoon at this time. Now, she saw the expression on his face and was terrified of it. She fought the urge to slam the door in his face, bolt it, and hope he didn’t have the strength to kick it in. Yet something told her he would remove the door from its hinges were she to shut him out. So, feeling a streak of real cowardice, she merely nodded her head and opened the door wider for him to enter.

  “I did,” she said.

  “What is of vital, utter urgency that I have been summoned from my duties?” he asked with brittle patience.

  Before Teodora could answer, Regal was moving toward him, her claw-like hands extended.

  “Sir Cullen,” she cackled. “My dearest, sweetest lad. Let me look at you.”

  Cullen eyed the old woman with the milky eyes. He’d spent a week riding escort with her and she’d shown no interest in him whatsoever. But now, it was as if she’d suddenly discovered him, and he felt the stabs of pain as her nails dug into his arm. The old woman ran her hands all over his hairy arms, moving to his shoulders. When she moved to his neck, she paused and turned in Teodora’s direction.

  “Great Gods, Teodora, you didn’t tell me he was as big as all this,” she said, resuming her inspection. Her hands moved to his face and Teodora was amazed when Cullen stood completely still, allowing the intrusive old woman her scrutiny. He didn’t even wince when she stuck a sharp fingernail up his nose. “And handsome, too. A beautiful face in the fashion of my Robert. Ah, just like my husband!”

  Even though Cullen was exhibiting extreme patience, Teodora would not push him. That expression of extreme annoyance had not changed. Gently, she grasped her grandmother by the shoulders and pulled her away.

  “Forgive her, Sir Cullen,” she said. “She is old and quite curious.”

  Cullen didn’t acknowledge her statement or the old woman. He was fixed on Teodora. “You will tell me now why you have summoned me with such urgency.”

  Teodora was feeling increasingly embarrassed and, quite honestly, terrified. She could see that she had made a dreadful decision summoning Cullen to her. Whispering something in Regal’s ear, she bade the woman to sit and motioned to Cullen.

  “Can we speak privately, please?” she asked politely.

  Leading him into the bedchamber, she softly closed the door. It was dark and quiet as she faced him, standing dirty and sweaty before her clad only in a linen tunic, thick hose and thigh-length boots. Teodora found herself staring at him, smelling his musk, thinking him to be the most beautiful, masculine thing she had ever seen. The sight of him was almost enough to make her forget her train of thought, but his grumbling voice brought her back to reality.

  “Well?” he demanded. “I don’t have all day. What did you want?”

  His tone jolted her. Feeling frustrated, foolish, she put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me that we were invited to a grand feast tonight, attended by the king and his court?”

  He stared at her a moment. Then, slowly, an eyebrow lifted in disbelief. “Is that why you summoned me?”

  “You know I don’t have a thing to wear!”

  He was dumbfounded. “Is that why you summoned me?”

  She was suddenly angry. “Of course it is. How can I attend the king’s feast with absolutely nothing to wear? I shall be the laughing stock!”

  Cullen stared at her. And stared. Then, he clapped a hand to his forehead in a gesture of complete bafflement. He paced away from her, shaking his head.

  “Great Bleeding Christ, Teodora, do you mean to tell me that you called me here to tell me this?” he demanded. “Why in the hell didn’t you just tell Godfrey or Hamilton? They were here to assist you.”

  Her anger cooled, replaced by a heavy embarrassment. “Because I didn’t want them to know,” she looked away, twisting her hands. “I didn’t want them to know that the new countess has only broadcloth skirts and leather girdles to wear. I didn’t want them to think I was unrefined or uncouth if I told them I did not own any finery. How can they serve or respect a woman with no more elegance than a barmaid?”

  He understood, somewhat. Looking at her, he could see how truly troubled she was and he felt his anger cool. He should take her over his knee for such foolishness, and would have, had he not realized she was deeply serious about the subject.

  She was embarrassed.

  “There is nothing in the cases your grandmother brought that would be suitable?” he asked with a little more patience than he had been exhibiting.

  She shook her head. “Nay,” she said, lifting open one of the cases. “All of my clothes fit into one of these cases. As you can see, there is nothing elegant here. Not even jewelry.”

  He gazed at her a moment before slowly moving to where she stood, looking down at the contents of the trunk. All he could see was faded brown wool, the eggshell color of linen, and a few strips of leather tossed about here and there. Certainly not the clothes of a countess. It looked to be more like the possessions of a peasant.

  “You did not tell me that you do not own any suitable clothing,” he said after a moment.

  “I tried to,” she said softly. “When we were looking at fabric at Leominster, I was going to. But we were attacked before I could say a word and we never stopped to shop again after that.”

  Cullen dug around in the case. He would have been embarrassed for a serving wench to wear the clothing Teodora had brought; it was in terrible shape. He let out a long, heavy sigh.

  “Your mother let you wear these things?”

  Teodora shrugged, more embarrassed than ever. “I did not give her much choice. I wore what was comfortable, not what was fashionable.”

  Cullen stared at the clothes a moment longer before turning to her, his massive fists resting on his hips. Even the dress she was currently wearing, a faded yellow silk, was substandard. “I shall take care of it, then,” he said firmly. “Your duties between now and this eve are to take a bath and rest. I would have the countess looking her best for her introduction to the nobility of England.”

  “Then we are going to the feast?”

  “Of course we are going.”

  “The king and Lord Preston are friends, then?”

  Cullen shook his head, seeing once again how little she knew of the politics she was part of. “Not exactly,” he said. “But we will attend, nonetheless.”

  “But what am I going to wear? What shall I do?”

  Cullen fought off a smile; she looked anxious. “You will wear something app
ropriate,” he said. “But until such time as I can arrange that, just do as you are told. Otium cum dignitate.”

  She translated with confusion. “Leisure with dignity? What do you mean by that?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Silly wench. What did I just tell you?”

  She pursed her lips. “To take a bath and rest. Why must I do that?”

  “Have you ever heard of leisure time?”

  She thought a moment. “Nay.”

  He rolled his eyes again, this time shaking his head. “Christ, woman, have you never done anything relaxing or ladylike simply because… well, simply because?”

  She looked worried again. “Nay,” she said. “Is that bad?”

  He grinned, then. “Bad for you, indeed. You are a countess now and must learn to act as such. Leisure with dignity, Madam.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you must learn to be lazy.”

  Teodora knew he was jesting with her; well, almost. The twinkle in his dark eyes told her so. It was his way of telling her that her life was going to change from this moment forward and she must learn to accept her station.

  And he would help her.

  Impulsively, Teodora threw her arms around his neck and kissed his stubbled cheek; it seemed the most natural of things to do.

  “My thanks, Sir Cullen,” she said softly.

  Cullen gazed into her beautiful eyes, feeling her hot breath on his face and her sweetness against him. His arms had somehow managed to find their way around her and he knew, if he valued his sanity and life, that he should remove them this moment and march from the room without a hind glance. But the longer he gazed into her smiling face, the further his resolve weakened. It was only a matter of seconds before his lips moved to hers and, in that instant, he knew that he was lost.

  Teodora held him so tightly she was nearly strangling him. She hadn’t realized until this very moment how very badly she had wanted him to kiss her. She groaned softly as he suckled her lips, his tongue plunging into the sugared depths of her mouth. Not timidly at all, she mimicked his actions, licking his teeth as he had licked hers. The heat and passion between them soared to unimaginable heights and Cullen relinquished his control to the desire overtaking him. Ripping her bodice to shreds, he shoved her roughly onto the bed. Taking greedy possession of her breasts, one for each hand, he kissed her as he had never kissed a woman in his life.