“Sir Adam, is this really necessary? After all, it is Christmas Eve,” his squire reminded him as they climbed the stairs of the great hall of Cavendish Castle in Sudbury. His squire held Adam’s secret weapon with two hands, balancing the covered gift that was going to be his ticket to get inside the castle.
“Bryce, I don’t need you telling me things I already know,” said Adam, surveying the lords and ladies that crowded the landing. It was a cold day in December and a light dusting of snow covered the ground. The castle courtyard was decorated for the occasion with fir boughs wrapped around tall poles that were topped off with lit torches. This served as a lined entranceway leading to the keep for those arriving for the festivities.
“But we haven’t been invited to the celebration,” Bryce pointed out. “We don’t even know Earl Cavendish, and I’ve only seen his daughter once in passing. As soon as the guards discover that we’ve snuck in without an invitation, they will throw us out.”
“Keep quiet.” Adam scanned the area, noticing a drunken soldier leaning over the well in the courtyard, retching. A woman who seemed to be the castle’s whore giggled and entertained two men at once in the shadows of the mews. Another woman with a young boy stopped in her tracks as the whore lifted the hem of her gown. Covering the boy’s eyes with her hand, she yanked her son in the opposite direction and hurried away.
Cheerful music floated in the air and the smell of mutton, braised leeks, and roasted goose made his stomach grumble. He looked over his shoulder, scowling at Bryce who was watching a serving wench instead of where he was going. He tripped, but managed to quickly right himself and not drop the gift Adam brought for Lady Eva.
“God’s eyes, be careful, Squire!” Adam reprimanded the boy. “If that falls, I’ll have your head. I didn’t spend the last two hours basting that prized goose over an open fire in the freezing cold to have you spill it at the witch’s doorstep.”
Bryce looked up at Adam and his eyes opened wide like a deer in the torchlight. “Lady Eva,” he whispered.
“Aye, I’m talking about Lady Eva. Of course, I am. You know she’s said to be the stuffiest lady in all of Christendom. I’ve heard she has such a cold heart that her simple gaze can freeze a man’s blood, not unlike the gorgon, Medusa.”
“M – my lord,” said Bryce, mumbling as always. Adam continued talking.
“I’ve heard the woman never smiles and even at the age of five and twenty, no man has ever agreed to marry her.” He chuckled lowly. “She’d be an asset on the battlefield since most men would probably run in fear when they saw her.”
“My lord,” said Bryce again, making a face and looking very uncomfortable. But Adam paid him no mind.
“Quit your mumbling, Squire. I’ll admit, I’ve never seen this Lady Eva. But from the stories told by the bards, I swear she must look like a cross between a dog and a wild boar.”
“But, my lord!” Bryce jerked his head upward a few times and rolled his eyes, looking like he was having a convulsion.
“Squire, stop acting like a fool! You tend to be too clumsy, and I won’t have that. Not tonight,” said Adam with a shake of his head.
Bryce jerked his head again and cleared his throat. The boy was always acting like a court jester and this wasn’t the time for it.
“A spoiled goose will do naught to thaw the cold heart of the ice princess,” said Adam with another chuckle. “I can only hope she likes hot meat because, mayhap, then I can melt the icicles that –”
Adam stopped short when he saw someone’s reflection on the outside of the metal lid covering the goose.
“She’s standing right behind me, isn’t she?” he mumbled, feeling the knot in his stomach twisting so hard that his throat became tight. He felt as if he were about to choke.
“What is the meaning of this?” snapped a woman from behind him. “I will not have my name mentioned in such a dishonorable way.”
Adam slowly turned around, surprised to see the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on in his life. Surely, there had to be some mistake. This couldn’t be the wicked Lady of Cavendish. She looked far too fair and beautiful. Her long, oaken hair was worn loose and covered with a jeweled metal circlet with a small, thin veil attached. Her angry eyes, the color of weathered acorns, scrutinized him, causing a shiver to run up his spine by the intensity of her glare. She wore no cloak, but her burgundy velvet gown with long, green silk tippets covered her completely and looked very warm. The woman wasn’t thin, but then again, neither was she fat. In Adam’s opinion, she had just the right amount of sensuous curves to make her enticing.
“Lady Eva, I presume?” Part of him hoped it was she and another part wished it wasn’t after what he’d just said about her with him not knowing she was listening.
“Aye, I am Lady Eva Cavendish, daughter of the earl. Who are you, knave?”
Adam flinched inwardly when she called him knave since it was a low blow to refer to any knight in such a derogative manner. Still, he supposed he deserved it after his poor behavior on her doorstep. Damn, he should have been more careful. He might have just blown the whole mission with his loose tongue.
“I am Sir Adam de Ware, at your service.” He got down on one knee and reached up to kiss her hand, but she did nothing to offer it to him. Instead, she held her hands balled up in fists, glaring at him as if she hated him even though she had just met him.
“I don’t believe I know you,” she said in a clipped tone. “And I also don’t recall your name being on the guest list. I am aware of every person who has been invited, and you are not one of them. Guard!” she called out, raising her hand to flag over a soldier in the courtyard.
Adam’s chin snapped upward. He had to do something fast! If he didn’t get invited to this celebration, he might just as well kiss his opportunity goodbye of being granted the title of baron. After five long years of taking on special assignments from the king as his personal spy, Adam felt he deserved to be called Baron. He’d taken many risks and worked too hard to let the shrew ruin his chances now. Nay, he had to quickly think of another approach.
“The Bishop of Sudbury sent me,” he blurted out, getting up and brushing the snow off his knee.
The woman wrinkled her nose as if she didn’t believe him. “Why would the bishop send a scoundrel like you to my doorstep?”
That dug into him like a knife. “It was his wish I bring this gift to the earl as gratitude for all he does for the church.” Adam was counting on the fact that the earl even knew the bishop. It was a chance he had to take. “And I must add that it’s not polite to call me a scoundrel when you’ve just met me, my lady.”
“And I suppose it’s in good form to be insulting the hostess behind her back right on her own doorstep?” She had a point there. Adam squeezed his eyes closed, cursing himself inwardly for his stupid mistake. “Guard, throw these men out of here at once,” she commanded.
“Nay,” pleaded Adam, holding his palms forward as the guard stomped up the stairs to get them. “I’m sorry, my lady, for my loose tongue and repeating lies that I’ve heard. I can see now that none of them are true. I have brought you a gift and hope you’ll accept my apologies. Please, allow me to join in your Christmastide celebration.” He turned to his squire. “Bryce, show the fair lady what I’ve brought her.”
“Come on,” growled the guard, taking Bryce by the arm. “You, too,” he said to Adam.
“What a shame,” said Adam with a forced sigh. “Bryce, I hope you’re hungry since you and I will have to eat that entire goose by ourselves.”
He took a step down one stair, hoping he had stirred the lady’s interest. He had done his research before coming here. The word whispered through the rushes was that Lady Eva Cavendish liked to eat. Hopefully, her hunger at the moment was stronger than her anger directed toward him.
“Wait!” she called out, causing Adam to stop in his tracks.
“Aye, my lady?” he asked, turning his head with a raised brow, sure his ploy had worked. �
��Was there something more?” He saw her eyes fastened to the covered platter in Bryce’s hands. Then, when the tip of her pink tongue shot out to quickly lick her lips, he knew he’d be inside the castle within minutes.
“Let me see what you brought. Uncover the dish,” she ordered, urgency sounding in her voice.
“Of course, my lady,” Adam replied with a satisfied smile. “Bryce, remove the lid.”
Carefully balancing the platter on one arm, Bryce reached out and picked up the lid with the other. The aroma of the garlic and rosemary roasted goose filled the air. Mingling together with that was the tantalizing scent of the quince, apple, and sage stuffing.
“My lady, I have bought and cooked the prized goose from the butcher’s shop at the edge of town. I slowly turned and seared the fine meat on a spit over an outdoor fire for hours to give it a woodsy flavor. Then I gently stroked it with a golden liquid of exotic herbs infused with its own rich juices until the skin turned crispy. Afterwards, I gently laid it in a covered pot, coating it with a drizzling of sweet cider and red, robust wine, so it would stay succulent, juicy, and tender and not dry out.”
Adam noticed her eyes grow wide as they fixated on the bird. As if in a trance, she blindly took a step closer. He had her right where he wanted her and so he continued.
“Just look at those plump quinces and golden apples that make up the stuffing.” He reached out and moved Bryce’s hand so the platter was closer to Eva. Then he held his fingers together and used them as a fan as he wafted at the air around the goose. “Can you smell the leeks and sage?” He made a big show of sniffing the air and releasing it with a sigh of satisfaction. “It smells so rich and nutty. And the velvety sauce made with the drippings has been topped off with just a sprinkle of cinnamon and mace. Did you want to sample it?”
“Aye,” she said so eagerly that he half-expected to see saliva dribbling down her chin in anticipation. With one shaking hand, she greedily reached out for the goose.
“Allow me, my lady.” Adam raised his hand to stop her. “The goose is hot and I wouldn’t want you to burn your precious mouth.” He used two fingers, grabbing a piece of meat folded over with a little stuffing in between. Holding it up, he blew on it to cool it off for her. Her mouth hung open as she watched his every move. Then he smiled and carefully held it up to her mouth.
Like a baby bird wanting to be fed, her jaw dropped open. Adam gently placed the meat in her mouth.
With an intake of breath and her eyes narrowing slightly, she chewed the goose slowly, savoring the flavor. “It’s delicious,” she said, her voice sounding almost orgasmic. “It’s the best goose I’ve ever tasted in my life. I’d like more.”
“Really?” Adam asked, brushing his hands together. “Well, I’m sorry, but my squire and I are going to eat the rest of the goose by ourselves as we celebrate Christmas in the cold out in our tent. Bryce, cover up the goose,” he commanded with a flick of his wrist. “We want to save the heat that holds in all those tantalizing flavors.” He nonchalantly looked over to the guard next. The man was also staring at the goose with want in his eyes. “All right, we are ready to go.”
“Nay! Stay,” Eva begged him as she hurriedly followed him down the stairs.
“What’s that, my lady?” he asked, sarcastically holding a hand to his ear as he turned back to see the desperation in her eyes. There was no way she was going to let him leave now. Not after all that. Adam felt confident that it was one of his most persuasive performances to date.
“Why don’t you and your squire bring the goose into the great hall,” she suggested in a meek voice. The bold confidence he’d heard earlier in her words seemed to have suddenly disappeared. “You are welcome to join us for the meal.”
Adam looked at her and cocked his head. “But, my lady, we are not on the guest list, or did you forget?”
She bit her lip and looked in the other direction. Her chest heaved in and out, giving notice to her full breasts hidden beneath the fabric. It was almost making him feel randy. He could tell she struggled with her decision as it took her a moment to answer. “I’ll make sure your names get on the list,” she finally said.
“Well, then, I guess we’ll join you,” said Adam with a wide smile. “My name, again, is Sir Adam de Ware, and my squire’s name is Bryce.” He bowed, just to be proper.
“Guard, let them pass,” she commanded to her soldier. “They’re with me.”
“Aye, my lady,” answered the guard, heading back down the stairs.
“This way, both of you,” said Eva, motioning with her head toward the keep. “And whatever you do, don’t drop the goose, you fools.”
Mistletoe & Chain Mail
Excerpt from Matchmade Hearts
Matchmade Hearts
Holiday Knights Series (Valentine’s Day) – Book 2
The Boar’s Tusk Tavern, 14th Century, France
Downing his twelfth dram of whiskey, Lord Étienne de Beynac slammed the drinking vessel down on the wooden table so hard that the coins that were stacked up between him and the tavern’s new drinking champion toppled over. “I did it!” he announced, licking his lips, looking the brute right in the eyes. “Now, give me my money.”
“Not yet,” growled the large man, motioning with a nod for the tavern maid to refill his cup once again. His big, bald head seemed to swell out in both directions. Or, mayhap, it was only the fact that Étienne could no longer see straight after the amount of alcohol he’d consumed in the past ten minutes. “We’ll go another round.” A group of drunken men that made up the tavern’s usual customers as well as a handful of prostitutes crowded around the table, making it hard for Étienne to breathe.
“Not before we add to the pot,” said Étienne, pulling out another coin from his pouch, sliding it onto the worn table that reeked from old alcohol and spilled leftover pottage. He had the man right where he wanted him. No peasant would be able to match his bet. The man would have to back down.
“That’s a gold crown!” gasped one of the strumpets, leaning over to see it. In doing so, she gave Étienne a full view down her bodice whether she meant to do it or not. Étienne instantly felt randy and decided he’d have a romp with her before he headed back to the castle. He’d often paid for the company of whores during one of his frequent visits to the neighboring taverns.
“Let me see it,” said a young boy, pushing his way through the crowd, leaning his hands on the table. His dirt-streaked face lifted up and his blue eyes opened wide. The poor thing was dressed in naught but rags and he stunk like a street rat. Étienne recognized him as an orphan who often came to beg at the gates of his father’s castle, Chateau de Beynac.
“I don’t have any more money and you know it,” growled the man sitting opposite to him.
“I see.” Étienne held back a belch, tasting the whiskey for a second time as it rose up as bile to burn like fire at the back of his throat. “Then, I suppose there is naught else to do but to collect my winnings and leave.” He reached out to scoop up the coins from the table, but the brute’s hand swiftly moved to his waist belt. He was going for his dagger!
In one quick motion, Étienne drew his sword from under his long cloak and jumped to his feet, knocking over the table in the process. One of the women screamed and the crowd backed away from the impending fight. The coins from the table hit the floor with a loud clinking noise and started to roll in all directions. The patrons bent over to steal as many of them as they could, stuffing them into the pockets of their ragged clothing.
Matchmade Hearts
Excerpt from May Queen
May Queen
Holiday Knights Series (May Day) - Book 3
Lady Flora Debenham looked down from atop her horse at the handsome man who was to be her husband and released a deep sigh. He would do just fine. Then again, it didn’t really matter what he looked like because she wasn’t really going to marry him anyway. She had convinced her uncle to let her switch places with her cousin, and it had naught to do with Gretta
being pregnant because that was all a lie she’d made up at the spur of the moment. This whole betrothal was just a ploy to get into Black Creek Castle and it had worked beautifully.
If her uncle hadn’t been such a coward, he wouldn’t have left here in the middle of the night like a fox being chased by a hound. She wasn’t happy that he said the wedding had to take place in a week because she wasn’t sure that was enough time to find her father. Her uncle was probably angry with her for saying Gretta was pregnant. If he hadn’t been stumbling, telling Ricard a reason why Gretta couldn’t marry him, she wouldn’t have had to jump in and say anything at all.
She held no love for her uncle. After all, he had deceived her for the past twenty years of her life. He’d also convinced her poor mother to keep secrets from her about her father and who she truly was. If he had been honest with her from the beginning, she never would have had to blackmail him in the first place.
Her cousin, Gretta, to be sure, was as pure as new fallen snow. She was also so sickening sweet and loyally obedient that it made Flora want to retch. The girl hadn’t questioned her father’s change of heart, although she had cried her eyes out because Flora was getting the man who was supposed to be her husband.
Flora didn’t care what Gretta or her uncle thought anymore. She had lived in ignorance her entire life and would never be so naïve again. They would abide by her wishes now because she had the upper hand. This was her only chance to find her father, and she wasn’t going to back down.
“Sir Ricard Wellington,” she said, sliding off the horse without help. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m sure,” she mumbled, although she didn’t mean a word of it. It meant naught to her that she was betrothed to one of the most handsome, eligible, sought after knights in the land. Still, she realized that she needed to pretend like it did, keeping up appearances for now. If he at all became suspicious of why she was really there or started doubting her uncle’s word, she would have no choice but to abort her mission. That was something she could not let happen.
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