Knights of Honor Books 1-10: A Medieval Romance Series Bundle

by Alexa Aston

  Raynor stared at Stollers until the man finally met his eyes. “Never venture south, Stollers. If you do, I will kill you.”

  “I . . . understand, my lord. I promise that you won’t catch sight of me as long as you live.”

  Raynor strode up the stairs without a backward glance. His curiosity built the entire way. He pushed open the heavy door that led to the first floor of the keep and hurried down a passageway toward the great hall.

  “Raynor!”

  He caught sight of Beatrice, his one true love, the one woman he never wanted to be parted from again.

  They ran to each other and Raynor swept her up into his arms. His mouth sought hers in a hungry kiss. Beatrice’s arms wound about his neck. He slowly lowered her to her feet, drinking her in, tasting her sweetness, drowning in her scent.

  She was the one who broke their kiss. “I love you,” she exclaimed and returned her lips to his for another lingering kiss. Beatrice pulled away again. “I have so much to tell you,” she said eagerly.

  “I already know you broke Stollers’ nose.”

  She beamed. “I did, indeed, my lord husband, and I enjoyed doing so. I also stomped on his foot and kicked him in the groin. You would have been so proud to see me in action.”

  He rewarded her with a swift kiss. “I would’ve paid good coin to have seen that, sweetheart.” Raynor glanced at the group staring at them. Each man wore a smile on his face. Raynor recognized Sir Thomas Applegate and Ronald, the soldier from Ashcroft who held Beatrice’s lute in his hand, but the third proved unfamiliar to him.

  “I hear you are my wife’s uncle,” he called out. He wrapped an arm about her waist and went to meet the man.

  The nobleman thrust out a hand. “I’m Gilbert Lovet and I am Beatrice’s uncle. I was brother to her father Richard.”

  Raynor shook his hand. “Even I have heard of the powerful Earl of Lovet,” he said. “I didn’t know I’d married into such a lofty family.”

  “I had no idea, Raynor,” Beatrice exclaimed. “After I bashed Stollers around, I rode Fury to seek help and—”

  “You rode Fury?” he asked, astonished that she would climb onto the large beast.

  “Aye, I did. It felt marvelous.”

  “She always was a horsewoman. From the time she was three,” noted Gilbert, the pride evident in his voice.

  “And I caught up to Ronald on the road.”

  Ronald grinned at him and bowed his head. “My lord. I brought news of your brother.”

  “Is Peter ill?” Raynor asked, worried why a messenger had been sent such a long way.

  “Nay, my lord. He’s decided to seek a quieter life in a monastery and renounced the title. You are now Baron of Ashcroft, my lord.”

  The news stunned Raynor. He looked down at a smiling Beatrice.

  “Ronald and I came across my uncle and Sir Thomas on the road. He recognized me at the inn where we met.”

  Applegate said, “She is the spitting image of her mother at that age, my lord. I had no doubt she was Sir Richard and Lady Lucy’s missing daughter. And when I heard her name was Beatrice, I knew I must ride to my friend Gilbert and tell him his long-lost niece had finally been found.”

  “Lucy was mad with grief after my brother’s death,” Gilbert explained. “She disappeared with Beatrice years ago. From what my niece says, Lucy returned to her father’s household. I searched but never found any sign of them. Then Thomas brought me the good news, so I had to seek her out.”

  “I have a family, Raynor,” Beatrice added. “A grandmother and aunt. And cousins!”

  She rested her head against his chest. Raynor could feel the happiness radiating from her.

  “So you rode my horse. Brought back help in one of the most powerful men of the north, who just happens to be your uncle. And you gained my release.” Raynor kissed the top of her head. “I worried that you’d need rescuing but, instead, you have saved me. I’d say you’ve put in a good day’s work, Wife. A very good day.”

  “Let us depart this foul place,” Gilbert said. Raynor caught a hopeful look in the earl’s eye. “Might I talk you into stopping at Lovet Castle on your way home? I know you’re the new baron and eager to return to your estate, but we’d be pleased to host you and my niece for a few days.”

  Raynor looked down at the woman who held his heart. “What do you say, my love? Shall we go meet this family of yours?”

  Beatrice nodded, tears brimming in her eyes.

  “Then let’s be off,” he said. As the men turned away and headed for the door, Raynor bent to steal one last, precious kiss from his wife, Beatrice, Baroness of Ashcroft. Mother of his future children.

  And the love of his life.

  *

  “Raynor!” Beatrice exclaimed from the top of the steps that led to the keep. “I was afraid you’d be late. Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn will arrive at any moment. Oh, I’m so nervous.” She began twisting her wedding ring as she worried her bottom lip.

  “I told you I’d return in time to greet them.” He raced up the steps and gave her a soft kiss. For a moment, the world stopped as he reveled in the touch of his lips on hers.

  “There’s no time for kissing,” she scolded.

  “I always believe there’s time for kissing,” he replied, stealing another quick one from her. “And you’ve nothing to fear. You will adore Geoffrey and Merryn. They are my closest friends.”

  “But what if they don’t like me?”

  “What’s not to like? You’re an intelligent woman, Beatrice Le Roux. One of beauty and passion and charm. My greatest fear is that they’ll like you even more than they do me.”

  She punched his arm good-naturedly. “You tease me, Husband.”

  Raynor cupped her cheek. “That I do, Wife. But I have something that I believe will give you confidence when you meet my friends.”

  Her eyes lit with curiosity. “You brought me something?”

  “I did, but you need to close your eyes. It’s a surprise.”

  “Raynor!”

  “Do not Raynor me. Simply shut your eyes and practice a little patience.”

  “And if I can’t?”

  He grinned. “Then I’ll take off running. And hope I run faster than you, for if you catch me? You might blacken my eye and bloody my nose. Then what would Geoffrey and Merryn think of you?”

  Beatrice pursed her lips. “If Merryn is half the woman you describe, then I’d say she’ll approve of me putting you in your place.”

  Raynor burst out laughing. “You would be right about that. But come, Beatrice. I am serious. Close your eyes, sweetheart.”

  She did as he asked. He removed the gift from his pocket and went to stand behind her. His arms lifted over her and he fastened the clasp about her neck. Then his fingers slid down her breasts and splayed across her stomach, drawing her into him.

  He watched as she looked down. Her hands came up to touch the jewelry. Satisfaction filled him when she gasped. Beatrice wiggled, freeing herself from his grasp. She turned to face him.

  Raynor would never forget the look of joy that spread across her lovely face.

  “My mother’s pearl necklace! However did you get it back?” She fingered the piece again, then rested her palms against his chest. Her large brown eyes met his. Raynor’s insides melted.

  “I’m a most persuasive man.” he quipped. “And this Amfrid fellow wanted to please me more than anything.”

  “I love you,” Beatrice said. “Not only for returning my mother’s necklace to me, but for being the man you are each day.”

  “I love you more,” Raynor told her. “With each passing day, my love for you grows.”

  “Are you two so much in love that you didn’t even hear our horses arrive?”

  Raynor looked down and saw Geoffrey and Merryn mounting the steps. The two men pounded each other hard on the back in greeting, while Merryn gave Beatrice a warm hug.

  “What a lovely necklace,” Merryn said.

  Beatrice cast a loving
smile at him. “There’s a story behind it,” she confided to Merryn.

  Merryn’s eyes danced with interest. “I’m sure you have several stories for me.” She linked her arm through Beatrice’s. “I want to hear everything. How you met. How you fell in love. And in return, I’ll tell you a few interesting stories about your husband.”

  The women started into the keep. As they reached the door, Beatrice looked back over her shoulder and winked at Raynor.

  Raynor blew her a kiss as Geoffrey began laughing.

  “My cousin—in love and finally married.” Geoffrey threw an arm about Raynor’s shoulder. “Come on, Baron Le Roux. We have a lot to discuss.”

  Raynor looked at his best friend. “We do, indeed. It’s a story that ends in love. We are lucky men, Geoffrey de Montfort. Lucky men, indeed, for finding the women we have.”

  They crossed the threshold of Ashcroft, his castle. His home.

  One that would always be filled with love.

  Epilogue

  Ashcroft—1382

  Raynor gazed down at Beatrice. She’d pushed the bedclothes aside while asleep. He had a wonderful view of the body he’d worshipped for almost twenty years. His palm covered her breast, gently kneading it. She sighed, a contented smile touching her lips. He toyed with the nipple, first with his fingers and then his tongue. Soon, the passion flared between them. Raynor loved how she called out his name. Even after hundreds of times of making love to her, each encounter brought them closer. He would want this woman till he went to the grave—and beyond.

  Their love play ended, slow and sweet, as they came together. Raynor thought it was like the music she played for him when they were alone.

  “It’s hard to believe that today is the day Cecily will be married,” Raynor said.

  Beatrice’s eyes glistened with tears. “It seems only yesterday she was our firstborn.”

  “Are you sad, sweetheart?”

  “No,” she assured him. “These are tears of joy. I’m happy for her. William is a good man and he will make a good husband.”

  Raynor brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “But will they love as well as we have?”

  Beatrice smiled. “We can only hope they do.” She stroked his cheek. “Come. She’ll be here soon. We need to dress.”

  He insisted that he be allowed to brush her hair, still a luscious brown with a few stray strands of gray starting to show. It was one of his favorite things to do. He remembered the broken comb she’d had all those years ago. He’d replaced it with this jeweled one.

  A knock sounded at the door and Raynor called, “Come.”

  Cecily dashed in, her cheeks bright with color. His eldest child looked so much like her mother that Raynor felt as if he’d drawn back a curtain and looked into the past.

  “Mother said you wanted to see me,” Cecily said.

  “Aye,” he told her. “We have a gift for you.”

  “I don’t need a gift. You’ve been the best parents I could ask for. That’s been your greatest gift to me.”

  “Still, we want to give you something on your wedding day to William.”

  Raynor watched the dreamy smile that turned the corners of Cecily’s mouth up. His eyes caught Beatrice’s, and they grinned at one another.

  Beatrice went to the casket that rested on a low table. She brought out the string of pearls that she’d worn every day since he’d returned them to her right after they had married.

  His wife held them up and told their daughter, “My father gave these to my mother on their wedding day. She passed them down to me. I’ve worn them for many years. Now it’s your turn to own them.”

  Cecily’s eyes grew wide. “Mother, I can’t! You love your pearls.”

  Raynor went to stand next to his daughter and rested his hands on her shoulders. “We want you to have them, Cecily.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. When he raised back up, she nodded.

  “All right.” Cecily went to her mother and offered her back. She raised her hair so that Beatrice could fasten the clasp. Cecily looked down at the necklace and smiled.

  “They look lovely against your creamy skin,” Beatrice told her. “Now run along to your chamber. I’ll come help you dress in a few minutes.”

  Cecily kissed both of her parents on the cheek and left the room, glowing.

  “I think it was the right thing to do,” Beatrice said.

  “Will you miss wearing them?” Raynor asked.

  “A little, but Cecily is our only daughter. I wanted her to have them. We can find something else to give the boys when they wed.”

  Raynor said, “I also have something for you, my love.”

  Beatrice looked surprised. “You do?”

  He went to his boot and turned it upside down into his palm. He’d hidden her gift inside it, knowing she would never think to look for anything there.

  Raynor crossed the room and dangled the pendant from his fingers. “I love how your brown eyes are rimmed in amber. This jewel matches them.”

  Her lips trembled, fresh tears sprang to her eyes. He placed the pendant around her neck and gave her a soft kiss. Beatrice looked down and touched the stone with reverence.

  “I love it and I love you, Raynor Le Roux.”

  “I love you, Beatrice Le Roux.” He offered her his arm. “Let’s go see our eldest child marry.”

  They left the bedchamber where they’d spent so many nights in each other’s arms. Raynor knew there would be many more nights of love to come.

  The End

  Code of Honor

  Knights Of Honor

  Book Three

  Alexa Aston

  Prologue

  Sandbourne Castle—1350

  As they crested the hill, Michael Devereux gazed with pride as he caught sight of his home. Sandbourne Castle stood in the distance, surrounded by rolling green hills. Cottages dotted the landscape. Animals grazed in the pastureland. A lump formed in his throat. He’d been away from home over a year and had missed his mother more than anyone. He couldn’t wait to entertain her with stories of his first year as a page fostering in Sir Lovel’s household.

  He spurred on his borrowed horse, wanting to reach the keep as soon as possible after three long days on the road in blistering heat, accompanied by a knight Sir Lovel provided to see him safely to his parents’ doorstep. Michael differed from the other boys in this. They all had fathers or other close family members who escorted them home for their summer visit.

  Not Michael.

  The Earl of Sandbourne wrote that he was too busy to dance attendance upon his only son, much less send one of his soldiers to see that the boy reached Sandbourne without any problems. Sir Lovel graciously provided Michael with an escort, much to his embarrassment. It only gave the other pages and squires something new to tease him about. They already taunted him unmercifully because he was so plump. His mother assured him as he grew older and taller, the extra weight would come off. For now, Michael tried to ignore the wicked names the other boys called him to his face and pretend he didn’t know how they talked about him behind his back.

  Thank the Christ Geoffrey and Raynor had put an end to the harshest cruelty. The two squires, both seven years older than he was, had been gone when Michael first arrived at Sir Lovel’s to foster. When they returned, they put a stop to the worst of it, boxing a few ears and bloodying a few more noses to get their point across. Now the other boys simply called him Tol—which stood for Tub of Lard. Michael found it a tolerable nickname and so he endured it. He couldn’t let Geoffrey and Raynor fight all of his battles. He was eight, after all, and needed to learn how to stand up for himself.

  But it still angered him that his father hadn’t spared the days it would have taken to come and bring him home for summer. Michael envied the joyous reunions he’d witnessed between family members as he lurked in the shadows of the great hall. Already, he’d been the only child fostering who hadn’t returned home the previous Christmas. His father told Sir Lovel that his boy nee
ded to toughen up, so Michael had spent the holy holidays keeping mostly to himself. Sir Lovel had graciously included Michael in his family’s festivities, but he’d slipped away at the earliest chance during the many celebrations held between Christmas and Epiphany.

  Why did his father hate him so much?

  From Michael’s earliest memories, the earl never showed him any sort of affection. He never once referred to Michael by name. The nobleman was brusque with his only child, paying him little attention. Only his saintly mother spent time with him. Nurtured him. Taught him to read. Rode around Sandbourne with him and introduced him to its tenants. It was his strong desire for his mother’s company that had him eager to return home now. Without her, life seemed drab. She always invented creative stories to tell him and showered him with attention and love.

  Michael gave a shout to the familiar gatekeeper, who opened the gates at his command. Michael assumed he was expected since Sir Lovel had sent news of his return to Sandbourne, but no one stood to greet them as they made their way toward the inner bailey.

  Turning to Sir Oderic, his escort, he said, “We should ride to the stables. We can have someone care for the horses before we go into the great hall. I know you need to quench your thirst and Cook can provide you with a small meal.”

  He did not miss the look of pity in the soldier’s eyes as the man spoke up after hours of silence on the road. “I’ll see to our horses, young master. I can also find myself food and drink without your help. Why don’t you go and find your mother? I’m sure she’ll be happy to lay eyes upon you after you’ve been away for so long.”

  Michael threw a leg over the saddle and jumped down from the horse Sir Lovel had allowed him to ride on this journey home. He owned no horse of his own, which suited him since he had no fondness for the huge, intimidating animals. That would have to change because part of his training would include caring for horses once he became a squire.

  Gratitude toward Oderic flooded him. The knight had always treated him with a good bit of kindness. “Thank you, good sir. I’m anxious to find Mother and speak to her.” He reached up and took his small bag of clothing attached to the pommel. “Will I see you before you leave Sandbourne? We could sup together tonight in the great hall.”