by Alexa Aston
He heard workers in the fields greet their lord and Geoffrey call out in return. The wheels turned on the cart. Silence again.
“Nothing so far,” the nobleman said. His voice was low, but that was why they had determined Kit should ride where he did. It would be close enough for them to communicate and, hopefully, prevent him from being seen by the kidnappers once they arrived at the exchange.
“Are you all right?” Geoffrey asked.
“I will be once Alys is safely in my arms,” he replied.
“I would feel the same if Merryn had been taken from me. We will get her back.” Kit heard the determination in Geoffrey’s voice. He thought Alys was a combination of the best of both her parents.
Silence fell for what seemed like an eternity. Kit wiped his sweating hands against his cotehardie. Anxiety filled him. It never had all those times he’d ridden into battle because he hadn’t cared if he lived or died. But now he wanted to live—for Alys.
His thoughts were interrupted as Geoffrey spoke.
“Up ahead. A lone man in the road. Standing. No horse. There could be others hiding in the woods though I see no one else.”
Chills ran through Kit. He flashed to the line of men blocking the road when he’d been attacked. He was certain he and Geoffrey were close to the spot where that incident had occurred. More than anything, he saw the one with the long scar who’d held the club. Kit remembered how brutal the man’s blows had been.
“Lord Geoffrey, look to see if he has a scar that runs from his eye to his mouth.”
“You think the brigands involved in the assault on you have Alys?”
“We’re in the same area. I believe it’s a strong possibility.”
The cart rumbled on, then the earl quietly said, “I can see his scar.”
Less than a minute later, Kit felt the vehicle roll to a stop.
“Be you Lord Geoffrey de Montfort?” a voice called out.
“Aye. Where’s my daughter?”
“Very close, my lord. Be patient. For now, I need you out of the wagon.”
Kit felt the wagon rock as the earl’s weight left it.
“Raise your arms. Keep them up,” the man instructed.
“I have no sword or any weapon on me,” Geoffrey said calmly. “I have done all that you asked. I am alone. Unarmed. And I have the ransom for you.”
Kit knew the tricky part came next. Lord Geoffrey needed to show the kidnapper the sacks containing the ransom and, at the same time, make sure Kit was not exposed during the process.
“Show me the gold,” the voice commanded.
“The bags are hidden amongst the hay.”
“Prove it.”
Kit heard footsteps moving toward the rear of the cart and held his breath. This was the time when Geoffrey would be most vulnerable. Yet they’d decided for the nobleman to keep up a running dialogue so Kit would know what happened.
“I’m reaching for one of the bags. Shall I untie it for you?”
“Nay, toss it to me.”
Kit heard the jingle of coins as the thief caught the sack. He waited as the man must be untying it.
“Sink your teeth into every coin,” Geoffrey said. “They are all real.”
A rustling sounded. The robber must be sifting through the coins in the bag and sampling some.
“There should be more.”
“Aye. Three more bags,” Geoffrey said. “I’ll show you.”
Kit felt the wagon dip as Geoffrey climbed into the back of it.
“There. I’ve retrieved the others. Check them all. You’ll find it’s what you came for.”
Kit kept perfectly still as the thorough kidnapper must have checked the contents of each bag. His heart beat frantically. Where was Alys? He wondered how far away she might be.
“You did well, my lord.”
“I’ll ask again. Where is my daughter?” Geoffrey demanded.
“First, place the sacks where they were,” the thief instructed. “Hide them well.”
Kit supposed Geoffrey did as he was told from the movement he felt. Then the cart bounced as the earl landed on the ground again.
“I want my daughter. Now.”
“And you shall have her, my lord. Look down the road. Far down on the left. Do you see the sky blue of Lady Alys’ cotehardie? Her fiery hair against it?”
Kit heard Geoffrey’s intake of breath.
“She’s waiting for you with my men up ahead. They are watching every move we make. I want you to stand away from the wagon. I’ll be taking it. I thank you for so cleverly concealing the sacks of gold coins.” The man chuckled. “As I pass, I will signal my men that I have the ransom so they can release her and ride away. You can run to her after that.”
“If you’ve harmed—”
“Nay!” The voice laughed. “If anything, you should ask if I’ve been harmed. Lady Alys is full of courage and determination. She killed two of my men with a sword and another with her own dagger. Drove it right through the man’s throat without hesitation. I won’t forget Lady Alys de Montfort anytime soon.”
Alys had told Kit she knew how to use a sword. A smile came to his face as pride filled him that she had the ability to take down three of her captors.
“Step back more, my lord. More. I want you to start walking in the direction you came from. Count loudly and steadily to one hundred. Don’t rush. Once you reach the last number, you may turn and come back Alys’ way. I’ll keep an eye on you as I go, so don’t think to cheat me.”
The cart shifted abruptly. Kit knew the kidnapper had climbed into the driver’s seat. The horses started up. He heard Lord Geoffrey counting, clearly at first and then his voice faded as they drove away.
Kit wondered how many men guarded Alys up ahead and when he should make his move.
The cart slowed slightly. He heard the voice next to him call out, “Your father will be here to claim you soon. ’Twas a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady. I will think of you often.” He chuckled. “I hope you’ll think of me.”
Kit heard a muffled response. Alys must be gagged as well as bound. The wagon picked up speed. He realized the man hadn’t shouted any instructions to free Alys. Instinct told him that no other criminals had come. This kidnapper who drove the cart away must have wanted the entire ransom for himself.
He eased the blanket from his head and saw the back of the man so close that he could touch him. Kit looked behind them and saw Lord Geoffrey racing down the lane, a speck in the distance. He also saw Alys still tied to a tree, looking back at her father. White-hot anger seared through Kit. He ripped the blanket off and slammed his hands into the man’s back.
The thief fell forward and became tangled in the reins and the harnesses of the horses. The two animals cried out as the man fought to free himself. Kit grabbed his sword and leapt from the vehicle and yanked the stranger free and then tossed him to the ground.
The man scrambled to his feet and whirled to face him, fisted hands springing up in protection. Kit’s heart pounded furiously the moment their eyes met. Instant recognition crackled between them.
’Twas the scarred criminal who’d led the band that attacked him on the road to Kinwick.
The thief wore no sword. Kit could have cut the man down with one blow but he chose to toss his sword back into the wagon. He sought revenge now. The bastard needed to suffer. Not only for the assault he’d directed on Kit—but for abducting Alys.
He slammed his fist into the thief’s nose. The crunch that followed sounded as music to his ears as blood spurted like a fountain. The thief growled an obscenity and threw two quick punches to Kit’s gut, though Kit turned so that the second barely grazed him. He brought his fist upward, connecting with the bastard’s jaw, snapping his head back. The man stumbled backward but did not lose his balance.
Instead, he launched himself in the air, both feet crashing into Kit’s chest, knocking him to the ground. Kit rolled to his side as the thief landed where he had just been. Both men sprang to
their feet again and the scarred criminal moved more quickly this time, his fist ramming into Kit’s eye.
With a loud roar, Kit threw strike after strike into the man’s face, giving him no time to return a blow. The last one spun the man around and he fell to his knees. Scrambling away, he came to his feet and began to run. Kit tackled him, pummeling him repeatedly in his side till he heard ribs snap. The thief tried to crawl away, clawing the dirt in an effort to escape. Kit bunched the man’s tunic in his fingers and dragged the bastard to his feet, spinning him around so he could see that ugly scar once more.
Throwing the most punishing blows of his life, Kit battered the criminal till the man’s cries ceased. He collapsed on the ground and lay still. Only then did Kit find satisfaction. As he looked down, he couldn’t determine if the scarred man was dead or merely unconscious. If he proved to be alive and came around, he wouldn’t get far.
Kit turned and saw that Lord Geoffrey had reached Alys. Kit ran full speed to close the distance between them.
He arrived at her side as her father lowered the gag from her mouth.
“I’ll kill the bastard!” Alys shouted for all the world to hear.
That was his woman.
Even bedraggled, she was the sweetest sight Kit had ever seen. He had to touch her.
Kit nudged the nobleman aside. His hands cradled Alys’ face. Her eyes lit up. Kit saw all the love and longing that beat within him reflected in her eyes.
“I love you, Alys de Montfort,” he declared. “It’s always been you. You are my soul mate.”
His mouth crashed down on hers. Kit drank in the sweetness of her taste as his tongue danced happily with hers. His fingers pushed into her glorious chestnut hair. He kissed her till neither of them could breathe—and then he kissed her some more.
Finally, he rested his forehead against hers. His hands caressed her shoulders.
Someone cleared his throat.
Kit sprang back, aware that they had an audience of one. “My apologies, my lord. I . . . I forgot you were here.”
Geoffrey de Montfort laughed heartily. “No apologies are necessary, Kit Emory. To see how well loved my sweet Alys is, makes me a very happy father.” The earl clapped Kit on the back, a welcoming smile on his face.
Another throat cleared, and both men turned back to Alys.
“It would be nice if I could run my fingers through Sir Kit’s hair. Of course, that would mean someone would have to free me from these restraints,” she said drily.
Kit kissed her hard and swift. “Whatever you say, my love. I plan to spend the rest of my life waiting on you hand and foot.”
He pulled a knife from his boot and cut through the linen strips that held her wrists and ankles and the rope that anchored her to the tree. Alys swayed unsteadily on her feet, so Kit swept her up into his arms. She linked her fingers together behind his neck, satisfaction evident on her face.
“I’ll see to the thieving bastard and bring the cart around,” Lord Geoffrey said.
“Don’t kill him, Father.”
The nobleman stopped. “Your mother did ask for his head.”
“Then let me be the one to give it to her,” Alys said. “Better yet, we should return Carac to Kinwick. I would see him brought to justice in front of many. He and the other band of outlaws he leads. And Carac takes his orders from Sir Fendrel. He is the one who wrote the ransom note.”
“Fendrel?” asked Geoffrey.
“I can lead us to him. I escaped from the cottage where they held me.”
Kit gave her an appreciative squeeze. “It seems you know how to take care of yourself, my lady. But I hope you will allow me to help every now and then.”
He watched Lord Geoffrey start in the direction of the one Alys called Carac. Kit was grateful for a moment alone with her.
“Do you mean it, Kit, that we can spend our lives together? What of Lady Thea and your betrothal?”
He caressed her cheek. “The widow is in love with another man. We are no longer betrothed, thanks to the king.”
“The king? You went to the king?”
“Aye, Lady Thea and I did so together. Once we explained the situation to King Edward, he was most cooperative. I think ’twas because it involved the de Montforts. He has very fond memories of coming to Kinwick.”
Alys smiled. “He did enjoy eating Cook’s tarts.”
Kit’s finger twirled a lock of her hair round his finger. “He mentioned that. And that he would wed your mother if not for your father already being her husband.”
She giggled. “Mother has that effect on many men.”
He tugged on the curl, tilting her head back. “He allowed us to burn the betrothal contracts with one request.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“That you and I name our first daughter after his late wife. It seems Queen Philippa thought a great deal of you, as did the king.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “I was devoted to the queen. ’Twould be an honor for our child to bear her name. Philippa Emory,” Alys said softly, trying the name out.
Kit released her lock of hair and cupped her face in his hands. “Lady Thea will soon wed her Tybalt. In fact, I have asked the two of them to come spend the Christmas season with us at Brentwood. I think they will become close friends of ours.” He smiled down at her. “That means we also need to marry. I want to wed immediately. If we could, I would have us do it here. Now. If we pass a priest on the way back to Kinwick, I will make sure it happens.”
“Truly?” Her smile almost blinded him.
He gazed into her eyes. “Alys, you have taught me many things. I expect you will continue to teach me many more in the years to come. Being here, with you in my arms, I know I have come home. I swear never to be parted from you, not for a single day. Our forever together starts now.”
Kit lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was deep and long and full of the promise of their love.
Epilogue
Brentwood—Christmas, 1375
Kit awakened to the sound of Alys softly snoring. She was nestled in his arms, bringing a warmth to him that went beyond the physical. His hands rested on her protruding belly. Their first child would be born in early spring of the new year. Alys had started snoring shortly after she discovered she was with child. He didn’t tell her she did so, but he loved to lie in bed next to her and listen to the sound all the same.
A kick under his hand caused him to smile. He gently stroked her belly with his fingertips and lightly tapped back. Another kick came as if the babe within responded to him. Kit lifted a hand to her long, chestnut hair and combed his fingers through it. He would never tire of touching this woman. He found himself more in love with her each day.
Alys stirred and turned. He looked down as she opened her eyes.
“Good morning,” she said sleepily, rubbing her cheek against his bare chest.
That was all it took to heat his loins. Kit cupped her face and gave her a lingering kiss. Alys stroked his chest, raking her nails down it, teasing his nipples. He deepened the kiss as she pushed against him, rolling him to his back. She climbed atop him, hiking her night shift up to her thighs.
At first, as the babe grew within her, Kit worried about their heated love play. Alys proved insatiable, wanting them to make love day and night the larger she became. She calmed his fears, telling him she knew enough about babes and that the love they shared would cause no harm to their growing child.
Kit took the edge of the gown and pulled it up over her head. He tossed it aside and gazed at the woman he loved. Her breasts had grown even fuller. Her skin glowed. And she had that hungry look in her eyes that he’d grown fond of.
“So you need your fill of me again,” he teased.
Her lips curled into a smile. “I can never get my fill of you, my lord,” she said seductively. “Feel. I am already dripping with desire for you.”
His fingers touched her folds and found her already wet. He toyed with her a few minutes, stroking her, find
ing her nub and teasing it to a peak. Her breathing became rapid and shallow as his fingers pleasured her. Alys cried out, calling his name.
Just as he liked it.
Kit let her guide his stiff member inside her. She enjoyed being on top, especially as her belly expanded. She’d told him once it was like riding a horse.
“And you know riding is one of my favorite things to do.”
Nowadays, when she told him she wished to ride, he knew what she meant and quickly escorted her to their bedchamber. He craved her touch and knew she felt the same.
Alys now moved slowly, teasing him as he had her. She leaned down to press her lips against his throat, her teeth nipping where his pulse beat strongly. Kit felt her clench tightly as she quickened her pace and then rode him with abandon. He flew higher and faster and further than ever before until he cried out her name, over and over.
She collapsed against him and then rolled to her side.
“We should dress. I need to make ready for our guests.”
“They aren’t supposed to arrive till the noon meal,” he said. “And everything is already perfect.”
“We can’t stay in here all day.”
“We can the entire morning.” With that, Kit kissed her.
*
They made it downstairs in time to greet their many guests. Kit knew Alys would miss not being at Kinwick for Christmas, and he told her that Geoffrey and Merryn must come to celebrate with them at Brentwood. Of course, they would bring Ancel, Hal, Edward, and Nan along. Though Kit longed for many sons, he secretly wished for this first babe to be a daughter. Nan had stolen a piece of his heart. He hoped he and Alys would have a girl much like young Nan.
But many others were due to arrive. Geoffrey’s cousin, Raynor, often brought his wife and their three children to spend Christmas at Kinwick. Alys had told Kit that they couldn’t possibly leave Raynor’s family out of the celebration. Then she decided her cousins, Elysande and Avelyn, must also come and share in the Christmas joy. Kit had met their husbands, first at court when he’d returned from fighting in France and again when he and Alys wed. He had also been reacquainted with Michael at the May Day celebration. They had five—or was it six?—children between them. He couldn’t remember.