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

by Alexa Aston

  Who was the woman, he wondered. And had the babe been his child?

  *

  He came downstairs on his own for the first time and saw people streaming into the great hall. He supposed they had been to mass. He had no recollections of attending mass anywhere and did not venture a guess if he was a religious man or not. So much of him still remained a mystery and hidden from him. He tamped down the impatience threatening to rise because it would do him no good. Lady Merryn assured him his memory would return. He put his faith in her words and experience.

  When it did, would he leave Kinwick at once, eager to arrive at his own home? Or would he delay his departure—the better to spend more time with Alys?

  Lady Beatrice waved him over. He joined her and Lord Raynor. He liked this couple quite a bit and hoped that somewhere he had a friend as close to him as Lord Raynor seemed to Lord Geoffrey.

  Lady Beatrice greeted him. “Good morning, my lord. It’s good to see you up and about.”

  He seated himself next to her as her husband took the seat on her other side. “Other than my ribs aching, I’m almost myself,” he told her.

  She laughed. “Your face says otherwise.” Then her eyes went large. “Oh, forgive me, my lord. I did not mean to imply that . . . well, that your bruises . . .”

  “No apology is necessary, my lady. I saw myself in a hand mirror and know most of the swelling has gone down, but the bruises have turned nasty shades of colors. I suppose it will be another few days before I look as myself.”

  “I’m sure you are a handsome man when you have not been beaten by wild thieves,” she said demurely, taking a bite of bread.

  Lord Raynor put his arm about her. “My wife means well, my lord. Usually, she puts a little more thought into what she says. Today she is distracted, I believe.”

  He looked at her. “What troubles you, Lady Beatrice?”

  “Nothing but excitement fills my heart,” she confided, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. “Raynor and I are off today for Wellbury.”

  “But you have only arrived at Kinwick,” he said. “I thought your visit would be longer.”

  “We’ll only be gone today and the night, then we will return and stay a few more days with Geoffrey and Merryn,” Lord Raynor told him. “Wellbury is the estate next to Kinwick. It was Merryn’s home growing up, and her brother, Hugh, resides there now with his wife.”

  “Our three children foster with them,” Lady Beatrice added. “Since we are nearby, I had Merryn send a messenger to Hugh and Milla to see if we might stop in and celebrate May Day with the Mantels. They said we were most welcome.” She sighed. “So I will get to embrace my boys and my girl and spend the day with them before we return to Kinwick for the rest of the week.”

  “It’s nice that they all foster together,” he said. “And that Lord Hugh was receptive to the idea.”

  Raynor burst out laughing. “I’m sure the three women cooked up this scheme together before we ever left Ashcroft. This way, Beatrice gets to see our children and still spend time with Merryn. If you discover you are married, my lord, when your memory returns, I am sure you will be familiar with the way of wives.”

  He wanted to point out that it was the duty of a wife to obey her husband and not scheme behind his back, but Lord Raynor seemed quite lighthearted about the situation. He guessed the nobleman was also happy to see his children. Again, an emptiness lay heavy within him. If he had children, he had no recollection of them, much less if they brought such joy to him.

  Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn joined them, along with Alys and Nan.

  “Have you made any new improvements to Ashcroft since we were last there?” asked Lady Merryn after she took a sip of her ale.

  “I always seem to keep Donaldus busy,” Lady Beatrice admitted. “He is as much an architect as a carpenter at Ashcroft. I cannot wait for you to see the latest changes I’ve made in our steward’s room. I had Donaldus make shelves to my specification, and now the ledgers are more organized.”

  “And what of Lord Gilbert and his children?” asked Alys.

  “My uncle is quite well. He still tries to buy Fury from Raynor each time we see him.”

  “No one will ever buy my horse,” Lord Raynor said, a scowl crossing his face. “That animal is like a brother to me. I think I like him even more than I do Geoffrey.”

  Everyone laughed. The conversation continued until their small meal concluded. As they stood so the servants could remove the dishes and the trestle tables could be returned to the walls, Alys whispered to him, “Ask Lady Beatrice if she will play for you when she returns tomorrow. She is a bit shy about it, but she has a lovely voice.”

  He nodded and turned to the noblewoman. “My lady, I have heard that you sing better than a songbird and hoped you might do so upon your return to Kinwick. I would enjoy hearing a bit of music.”

  “Oh, you must, Beatrice,” Lady Merryn encouraged. She looked at him. “Beatrice plays her lute better than any troubadour, and she has a beautiful voice.”

  Lady Beatrice blushed at the attention brought her way but nodded. “I will do so if you insist. We should arrive back at Kinwick in time for the noon meal tomorrow.”

  “I look forward to hearing you perform, my lady,” he said.

  Lord Geoffrey said, “Come, we must head out to the meadow. The dancing should begin soon, and we need to let these two get on their way to Wellbury.”

  As the group left the keep, they stepped into a cool day with no wind and no clouds.

  “I love a cool May Day with a little sunshine,” Alys said to him as they descended the stairs of the keep. “I don’t like it to be too hot for the dancing.” She paused. “Do you remember any May Day celebrations, my lord?”

  “Nay,” he admitted. “I know very little about this custom. No images or knowledge of it comes to mind.”

  “At least at Kinwick, our people have been up since before daybreak. The women and girls have roamed the countryside to gather blossoming flowers and bushes. My favorites are the violets because of their vibrant color.”

  “And do the men also take part in the celebration?”

  “They have gone to the woods to find the maypole. It’s usually the trunk of a large, young birch tree which is chosen. Then they strip it of its branches except for those at the very top.”

  “Why are those left behind?”

  “Those leaves symbolize new life, as May begins spring. The men will drag the maypole into the center of our meadow. They should have set it up by now. We will be able to watch them decorate it with the field flowers and ribbons.”

  Nan went flying by them, running through the gates ahead.

  “She seems eager,” he noted.

  “Two years ago, Nan clung to Mother’s skirts while the festivities went on. Last year was the first time she really understood what was happening and participated. She has talked of it ever since.”

  They arrived to a flurry of activity in the meadow. Nan came back and grabbed her sister’s hand.

  “Come on, Alys. Help me decorate the pole,” she demanded.

  “Go ahead,” he told her. “I’ll watch from here.”

  Music started up, with a piper playing a merry tune as the women adorned the maypole with garlands of the various spring flowers they had gathered. Once the pole had been trimmed, they began passing out ribbons to the younger children, both boys and girls. The men helped attached one end of the ribbon to the pole, then a drummer joined in playing along with the piper. Their lively tune started up the dancing.

  He watched as the children held the colored ribbons by their ends as they circled the maypole, the boys moving in one direction and the girls in the opposite one. All the people joined in singing. He didn’t know the words to the tune, but he appreciated the enthusiasm with which they sang. Finally, the song came to a close as the ribbons encircled the pole, entwined with the bevy of flowers.

  Then a new tune began, and the children reversed their directions, unwinding the ribbons
they had wound about the maypole. The voices grew louder in song as the children danced and skipped to the beat of the drum. He saw Nan in the thick of things, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

  Something tugged at his heart. He wished he could have a little girl such as Nan—smart, strong, and pretty. Already opinionated at six years of age. He wondered what Alys had been like at that age and figured her to be much the same, full of joy and curiosity. He located her in the crowd as the music changed again. The girls and boys handed their ribbons off, and a new group took their places.

  This time it was men and women who circled the maypole, singing and dancing with utter abandonment. His eyes were drawn to Alys. She moved with an innate grace, almost as if she flowed like water coursing in a stream. The circle became smaller and smaller until the ribbons surrounded the maypole and the music switched again, causing the participants to reverse direction and unwind the ribbons they held.

  Alys handed her ribbons to a young girl and joined him. “You must come dance, my lord,” she encouraged.

  “I don’t think I have ever danced,” he said, appalled at the thought of giving himself over so freely to the music.

  “Then it’s high time you learned,” she declared. Alys took his hand in hers and pulled him along. As they weaved in and out of the crowd, she turned and looked over her shoulder, her cheeks full of roses. He swallowed hard, taken by her simple, fresh beauty.

  They finally reached the maypole. His heart began to beat faster. Her hand in his seemed the most natural thing in the world. Reluctantly, he released it when she took a long bit of ribbon from a girl and handed it to him.

  “Dance, my lord,” she said. She accepted a ribbon herself as a new song began.

  He began moving to the beat of the drum. As a soldier, he knew he was a physical man. He had lain awake at night and pictured himself, sword in hand, arcing through the air. The weapon had seemed an extension of him. This ribbon now felt the same. He let his feet move as he became swept up in the melody. His ribs twinged unpleasantly if he moved his arms too high, so he lowered them and only waved them in small circles.

  His body took over, and he experienced the happiness that he saw on the faces of those surrounding him. He looked across at Alys, who seemed to float through the air as a feather might. Her braid bobbed along as her feet did some intricate steps that he wouldn’t bother to attempt. But looking at her brought a yearning that he decided must be satisfied.

  Today.

  Whatever had happened in his past. Whatever his present might be. Whatever the future held for him. None of that mattered.

  Only Alys did.

  It might be wrong, but he planned to kiss her this day. Leisurely. Thoroughly.

  Passionately.

  Chapter 11

  “I am so out of breath!” Alys exclaimed. She tossed her ribbon to a young girl and moved away from the dancing.

  In truth, it was Kit Emory who had taken her breath away.

  She had grown warm as she watched him attempt to dance. At first, he had proved awkward, then his knightly training kicked in. He began to move with a physical grace for one so large. Though his feet did not attempt any complicated footwork, his limbs still moved well in time to the music. For the first time since he’d been brought to Kinwick, Kit smiled from his heart and a place of joy. She realized he was living in the moment, not worried about who he was or where he belonged.

  Oh, but he had already found a place—though he did yet not know it. ’Twas in her heart.

  Alys determined to pull him aside after the feasting and inform him of his true identity. She had no right to hold the secret from him any longer. He must return to Richessa and whatever family he had.

  Even though it would break her heart.

  She looked up as a shadow crossed over her, marring the bright sunshine of the day. Kit stood next to her, his large frame dwarfing hers. She pushed aside the gloom that threatened to bubble up. He needed to enjoy these last few hours and she needed to enjoy them—with him.

  “You left the dancing.” He frowned. “Are you ill?”

  “Nay. Just a bit tired. I have danced through several songs. I thought to take a bit of ale and cool down some.”

  Kit offered his arm to her. “Then let me escort you to where these refreshments are.”

  Alys slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and almost sighed. His very nearness allowed her to inhale his clean, masculine scent. She drank it in as one who thirsted but could never be satisfied.

  As they drew close to the ale and various fruits and breads that had been placed outside for the revelers to nibble on, she saw her parents and waved. Geoffrey and Merryn joined them as Cook poured drinks for them all.

  “I haven’t seen you dancing, my lord,” Kit said.

  “I have been beating the bounds,” her father replied.

  Alys saw the puzzled look flit across Kit’s face and said, “It’s a tradition on May Day for the owner of a property to walk its boundaries.”

  “The custom allows me to reaffirm my rights to Kinwick,” her father shared. He took a generous sip from his cup. “I find it thirsty work.”

  “And Geoffrey marks the various places where the fences need to be repaired,” added her mother. “So our walk served a more practical purpose.”

  “You walked the boundaries with him?” Kit asked.

  “Aye. We have done it together many years. It’s time alone, which we rarely seem to have.”

  Alys saw the look pass between her mother and father and wondered if anything else had occurred as they beat the bounds.

  A cheer rose, and she looked back at the maypole. “I think Jack in the Green has put in his appearance.” Before Kit could ask, Alys explained, “Since May Day celebrates the new growth of spring and the hope of a fertile harvest to come, Jack in the Green always makes his presence known at some point.”

  Her mother said, “Our steward, Diggory, always disguises himself as Jack, the woodland spirit who guards the green woods of England. He will dance a little with the others and then slip away, returning to the woods.”

  Her father downed the remainder of his ale. He pulled his wife’s cup from her hand and set both cups down. Then he snatched Merryn’s hand and led her toward the maypole. Alys smiled as she watched the Earl and Countess of Kinwick join in the merrymaking.

  “You are lucky, indeed, my lady,” Kit said softly.

  She turned to him. “Why?”

  “You were brought up in a magical place. You have parents that not only love you and your siblings, but they adore one another.”

  Alys watched her parents dance around the maypole with abandon and nodded. “I am fortunate.” Her eyes met his. “Mayhap you, too, came from such a family.”

  “Nay.” His flat tone caused her to wonder if he had remembered who he was. She could not recollect ever seeing his mother at court, while her vague impression of his father was not that of a loving man as her own father was.

  She knew now was the time to tell him of his origins.

  “Alys!”

  She turned and saw her cousin, Elysande, coming her way, little Tucker in tow. Her husband, Michael, followed closely behind, as did Aunt Mary.

  “Elysande!” She ran to greet the woman, embracing her cousin tightly. “I am so happy to see you.”

  “Alys,” a voice closer to the ground demanded.

  “Good day to you, sweet Tucker,” she told the boy, sweeping him up into her arms and kissing his nose. “I have missed you.”

  “I missed you, too,” he said.

  Michael came up and wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek. “And how is my favorite de Montfort?”

  “Oh, Mother is doing well,” Alys retorted. She nodded in the direction of the maypole. “She and Father just finished beating the bounds and are celebrating.”

  Tucker began squirming, so she released him and greeted her aunt. “Aunt Mary, I am delighted you could come. Father will be so pleased to see you.”

&n
bsp; “And I him.”

  Alys looked around. “Didn’t Sir Charles accompany you?”

  “Charles saw Gilbert and stopped to visit with him. He will be along in a moment.” Mary looked at her intently. “How have you been, my child? I think I see something different about you.”

  “I am well, thank you,” she said. “Kinwick thrives, so I am happy.” Alys looked over her shoulder and motioned for Kit to join them. “But we have a guest I would like you to meet.”

  As Kit made his way toward them, Alys turned. Before she could say a word, she saw recognition on Michael’s face.

  “Emory? What brings you to Kinwick?” Michael asked.

  Emory?

  The image of a smiling, older woman with mischief in her eyes flashed before him. Then another quickly joined her, a man with gray hair and a beard. Both appeared so real that he reached out to touch them—but they dissipated.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord,” he said, his stomach churning. “You know me?”

  “I made your acquaintance at King Edward’s court less than a month ago. I am Michael Devereux. I was with my brother-in-law, Kenric Fairfax, the Earl of Shadowfaire.” Michael frowned. “Surely, you could not have forgotten us so soon after we met.”

  Panic escalated within him. “We were at court. A month ago,” he repeated.

  “Aye. Kenric and I waited for Lord Geoffrey and Lord Raynor to conclude their report to the king regarding the newly-signed truce. We spoke briefly.” Michael stopped and studied him intently. “You shared you were Kit Emory, son to Lord Godwin Emory, the Baron of Brentley and adviser to the king.”

  The same image of the bearded, gray-haired man flashed quickly before his eyes and vanished.

  His heart beat wildly in his chest. He had trouble breathing. He looked at Devereux—and experienced no recognition of him.

  Nor did the name Kit Emory stir any memories, other than the brief glimpse of the man and woman flickering in his mind.

  “Excuse me, my lord. My ladies.” He turned and abruptly stormed away from the crowd and noise. He would leave it to Lady Alys to make his excuses. He was certain she would tell them of his accident and his memory loss. Let her have at it. He was tired. Tired of not knowing who he was—even if he now had his name—one that meant nothing to him.