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

by Alexa Aston

  “Benedict sent for me. He begged me to take you before Amicia did you harm.”

  A shiver passed through Rosalyne. Edward gripped her shoulder.

  “Lady Amicia would have . . . she might . . .” Her voice trailed off, the thought too horrible to express in words.

  “Without a doubt, she would have carried through with her threats, Rosalyne. Amicia Bowyar was that kind of woman,” Uncle Temp said, his eyes burning with rage. “She wished you dead.”

  “Your uncle did me the kindest of favors by taking you in,” Bowyar told her gently. “My wife instructed I was never to see either of you again.” He bowed his head. “I foolishly agreed to her demand and told Temp not to let me know where the two of you headed, else I’d be tempted to find you one day.” He raised his head, his eyes meeting hers. “I regretted that decision from that moment till this.”

  Bowyar stood and began pacing again. “Amicia died in childbirth years ago. She birthed one dead babe after another. ’Tis when I knew God cursed me for letting you go.”

  “So you have no other children?” Rosalyne asked.

  “Nay.” He came and knelt before her. Taking her hands, he said, “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me, Rosalyne?”

  She was torn. On one hand, this man abandoned her, handing her off to Temp and denying any responsibility for her. Yet, in doing so, he may have saved her life.

  Rosalyne squeezed his hands. “I do forgive you, Uncle Benedict. I have many questions of you, though, about my parents.”

  “Thank you for your forgiveness, my child.” Bowyar kissed her knuckles, his tears flowing freely now. Releasing her hands, he came to his feet. “I would like to get to know you, Rosalyne. Spend time with you and answer all of your questions. I cannot replace those years we were apart, but never doubt that I have always, always loved you.”

  “Why don’t you give Rosalyne time to ponder things and return tomorrow afternoon?” Edward suggested.

  Bowyar nodded and looked to her hopefully. Rosalyne nodded her approval.

  “Then I will see myself out. Until this time tomorrow.” He fled the room.

  She looked at Uncle Temp. “I needed to hear the truth, Uncle.”

  “I realize that,” he said wearily.

  “You look exhausted,” Sir Harry said. “I can have you shown to your room.”

  Rosalyne helped her uncle rise. “I will get him settled and return,” she said.

  “Nay, Rosalyne,” Edward said. “You also need some rest—and time to think about all that you heard. In the meantime, I will go to the palace and seek an appointment with the king.”

  Panic filled her at his coming absence. “You will return tomorrow? When Uncle . . . Benedict will be here?”

  Edward took her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing them softly across her knuckles. “I will,” he promised. “For now, you will be in good hands with Sir Harry.”

  His words reassured her. “Till tomorrow,” she said.

  *

  Edward had no intention of making an appointment with the king until he had spoken with Hal. His brother would be able to clue him in as to the happenings at court while Edward had been gone to Canterbury. If Geoffrey de Montfort had taught his sons anything, it was to be prepared going into a situation—especially when dealing with a king. Of all the de Montfort brothers, he had been the one who most took this lesson to heart.

  Arriving at the palace, he made his way to the queen’s rooms and found that she and her ladies-in-waiting were taking in the air outside. He hurried to the garden that Queen Anne favored and saw her sitting on a bench, eyes closed, her face lifted to the sun. Various ladies clumped together in small groups chatting. Two royal guardsmen stood watch nearby at opposite ends.

  One was Hal.

  Edward went and stood slightly behind his brother. “Keep your eyes on the queen but fill me in on anything I have missed,” he said quietly.

  “Good to have you back, little brother,” Hal said. “Do you wish to hear about my most recent conquest? Or would you prefer politics to be our topic of conversation?”

  He chuckled. “In the time I have been gone, I am sure there have been several conquests, which all ended the same. Politics would be more to my taste.”

  Hal’s head turned slightly as he followed a few of the women strolling by. “The Duke of Lancaster left England yesterday in order to make good on his claim of the title in Castile.”

  “He wishes to be crowned head of Castile? Is it not enough that he is one of the richest men in all of Europe?”

  His brother shrugged. “His wife, Constance, is an heir to the Castilian Kingdom. Lancaster’s coat of arms includes those of the Spanish kingdom. For more than a dozen years, he has called himself their king. You know he’s gathered about him a variety of refugees from Castile.”

  “But why now, after so long a time?” Edward asked.

  “Since England has decided to ally herself with Portugal and Lancaster’s daughter will soon marry the Portuguese monarch, the time is ripe. Our wars with France and Scotland have died down. Lancaster believes he can land his army of five thousand in Spain and seize the throne.”

  “That worries me,” Edward admitted. “Not only that the duke will waste time and coin trying to take a foreign throne by force but what his absence from England could mean. The king’s uncle has protected him several times over the years. With Lancaster and those loyal to him gone, Richard will be alone for the first time since he became a boy king.”

  “Except for that band of young sycophants who gathers about him,” Hal noted. “I fear we are in for some uneasy times at court, Brother.”

  “Father will want us gone from here,” he said. “In fact, he never wanted us to come in the first place.”

  “I actually agree. But how does one gracefully bow out of the honor of being named a royal guardsman?”

  “I am going to do my best to find out. I plan to make my report to the king and see if this mission to Canterbury has earned me enough favor to warrant returning home in the near future. With you, of course,” Edward said.

  “Did you find what you thought you would in Canterbury?”

  “Aye. The work is steady but those in charge are corrupt to their very souls and cheating the king blind. They need to be held accountable for their actions.”

  “He won’t like hearing that. Richard has never taken well to bad news.”

  “I have something else to share with you,” Edward revealed.

  Hal glanced over his shoulder. “What aren’t you telling me? I caught something in your tone.” Hal frowned. “You seem different somehow.”

  “You might as well be the first de Montfort to hear it. We have never kept secrets between us.” He paused. “Mother and Father are right. When you meet the one you are meant to be with, you feel it in your very soul.”

  Hal took a step back so that they stood abreast and gave him a sideways glance. “You . . . found love?”

  Edward couldn’t hide his smile. “I did, Hal.”

  “Is she comely?”

  “That would be the first thing you asked about. In fact, she is exquisite. But Rosalyne is also caring and talented. Her beauty is both within and without her. I had no reason to expect to find love but I did all the same. She has changed me, Hal, for the better. I look forward to being a married man and spending every day of my life in her company.”

  “I see. So if the king releases you from duty, will you return to Canterbury for her?”

  “Nay. I brought Rosalyne and her uncle with me to London,” he admitted.

  His brother’s mouth fell open. “You what?” he hissed. “I have never witnessed you acting in a spontaneous manner, Edward. Has this woman bewitched you? This is so out of character for you.”

  “I love her, Hal, plain and simple. I could not stand to be parted from her. And she is an instrumental piece of my plan to seek my release from the king’s service.”

  “How so?”

  “Rosalyne is
a painter. More talented than anyone I have ever met. I am going to convince the king that both he and Queen Anne need their portraits painted by her.”

  “By a woman? Have you gone mad, Edward? Are you even my brother, or are you someone who only disguises himself as Edward de Montfort?”

  “Lady Rosalyne’s uncle, Templeton Parry, is a well-known portrait painter. He will be the man supposedly painting our royal duo but, in the end, I wish for Rosalyne to receive credit for the portraits.”

  Hal gave him a long look. “Now I know it must be love, for you have never acted in such an impossible manner before.”

  The queen rose and the group of ladies scattered in the garden began rushing toward her.

  “I must attend to my duty,” Hal said. “Where are you hiding your Rosalyne and her uncle? Hopefully, not here in the palace.”

  “They are staying with Sir Harry. I will see you later, Hal.”

  Now that he had a better idea of the political climate, he would be more comfortable meeting with the king. Edward started to leave his brother and stopped in his tracks. Bold actions required bold thoughts.

  And his idea was both brash and daring.

  Reversing course, Edward marched toward Queen Anne. He had never spoken directly to her since he had come to court.

  She watched him coming and stopped, interest flickering in her pale eyes.

  Edward bowed and asked, “Might I have a private word with you, your majesty?”

  Chapter 18

  Edward wound his way through the maze of corridors until he reached the hallway leading to the king’s rooms. As usual, a bevy of bowmen from Cheshire stood outside, guarding the doors.

  He went to the front of the line and said brusquely, “The king is expecting me.” A half-truth, at best. The king had told Edward to report to him when he returned from Canterbury but no formal appointment had been arranged.

  Without waiting, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. No one questioned him or stopped him, so he proceeded through the rooms until he found the king with one of his favorites, Robert de Vere. Edward paused in the doorway since the two men were deep in conversation.

  Some minutes later, the king looked up. “Ah, Sir Edward. You are back from Canterbury. Do come in.”

  He approached and knelt before the king and was granted permission to rise.

  Richard turned to de Vere. “This good knight went to Canterbury to evaluate how the construction on the city walls fares.”

  De Vere looked disinterested. “I thought you were more concerned with the construction of your new bath house, your highness.”

  “Canterbury is important, Robert, because of its proximity to London,” the king explained. “An invading force from France could enter England and overtake Canterbury. The Romans understood that. ’Tis why they built their wall to surround it. I am merely reinforcing what is there. But go, my friend. I will dine with you later.”

  De Vere took his leave.

  The king turned to Edward. “So tell me what news you have. Did you do as you planned and actually spend time working as a laborer along the wall?”

  “I did, sire. Of course, I am not a registered guild member and had not the trade or skill to perform certain tasks.”

  “Ah, so swinging a sword or mace cannot win you guild membership?” The king roared with laughter at his own joke.

  Edward chuckled and nodded in appreciation. “Nay, sire. What I was good for was hauling stones from carts.” He grew serious. “I can tell you that those who toil on the wall earn every pence they receive. I found the men employed, be they common laborers or skilled craftsmen, do their best every day. Though it will still involve many years of work to come, you can rest assured that they fulfill their role in the venture.”

  The king eyed him with interest. “You have more to tell me, Sir Edward. I can tell.”

  “I do, your highness.” He paused. “I spoke to everyone who had any dealings with the wall, from the head of the stone quarry to various merchants around town who provide the supplies used in construction. To a man, I learned that the Crown is being methodically cheated on a regular basis.”

  Richard frowned. “How so?”

  “All workers, skilled and unskilled, contracted for one rate of pay—yet they received less every single time. It is understood by all that they are not to challenge this policy, or they will be ousted. The same is true of materials. Provisions are made to purchase them for one price but each time what is reported to the Crown is a much higher one.”

  “And the extra coin stolen from me went into whose pockets?” the king demanded, splotches of red darkening his face in anger.

  “I determined it came down to two men, sire. Lord Botulf, the nobleman overseeing the construction, and his man, Perceval Rawlin, who handles the daily affairs.”

  “I will have both of their heads,” the king growled, his words seething with hate.

  “I have a better plan, your majesty,” Edward said, and bravely pushed ahead. “Lord Botulf assured me that Rawlin has already been dealt with. After I confronted Lord Botulf, he understands how his life hangs in the balance. I had him agree to personally fund everything concerning the wall’s construction for the next ten years.”

  “Ten?” the king repeated, turning over the information. “A good move on your part, Sir Edward.” He paused. “But I would rather see it ten and two.”

  “Thank you, your highness. A full dozen years of paying for all construction costs will see the project far along, possibly only a few years from completion. I also took the liberty of meeting with Master Yevele regarding the matter.”

  “Yevele?” The king brightened. “I had forgotten about Grandfather’s master mason. I had him look at the original walls and make suggestions regarding whether to repair what was there or rebuild it. So Yevele is still in Canterbury?”

  “Aye, sire. He is in charge of the work on the cathedral’s nave. That keeps him busy since the project will run for many more years. I thought since he would be in the city for so long, he might consider supervising the wall work. If you are agreeable, Yevele will visit sites along the wall each week and make recommendations to whomever Lord Botulf next places in charge. That way we would have Yevele’s expertise in completing the city’s defenses and he could still focus a majority of his time on completing Canterbury Cathedral.”

  Richard looked at him with new eyes. “For one so young, you drive quite a masterful bargain, Sir Edward.”

  “All in your name, your majesty. I hated seeing the Crown being taken advantage of. This way, Rawlin has been made to pay. Lord Botulf knows he is being scrutinized and he will provide all the costs for many years to come, relieving the royal treasury of that burden. Besides, the citizens of Canterbury will be the ones who benefit and they will be grateful to you for seeing this project to its completion.”

  The king rubbed in his chin in thought. “Then I wish for you to meet with my royal treasury officials and explain what legal documents need to be drawn up to guarantee Lord Botulf’s participation in the venture. You can accompany them with a group of soldiers so that Lord Botulf can commit to his promise through his signature.”

  “As you wish, sire.”

  Edward thought the monarch would now dismiss him and thought his gamble had been in vain. Disappointment filled him, thinking the queen had either let him down or not been able to speak to her husband since their conversation took place several hours ago.

  “One more matter, Sir Edward,” the king began.

  Hope filled him. Mayhap the queen had done as he’d requested.

  “While in Canterbury, did you hear tale of an artist who paints portraits?”

  “That would be Templeton Parry. I not only heard of him but viewed his work, your majesty. I went to Trinity Chapel to pay my respects to your father, the Black Prince. Parry had recently completed a triptych that rested near the tomb. Not only is Parry talented at painting panels but he also paints portraits and has gained quite a reputation.
”

  Edward was counting on Richard’s love of art. The king had cultivated an atmosphere at court where the arts flourished.

  “’Tis good to learn you have first-hand knowledge of this artist. The queen has heard mention of him. She would like Parry to come to London to paint her portrait, as a gift to me.” His face softened at the mention of his wife.

  Everyone at court knew how Richard and Anne had married young and actually fallen in love. Edward used that knowledge when he spoke with the queen.

  “I believe Master Parry would capture not only the queen’s elegance and beauty but also her sweet disposition,” he said.

  “Then bring back this Parry when you return to London,” the king commanded. “I would have him paint my Anne.”

  “Master Parry is already in London with his niece who assists him, your majesty. I passed them on the road. They are staying with Sir Harry Pratt.”

  The king nodded. “Even better. Whatever portrait Parry works on in London can be finished later. I want him to start the queen’s portrait at once. Go see him now, Sir Edward. Have him begin first thing tomorrow.”

  “As you wish, sire.”

  Richard dismissed him. Edward kept a solemn expression on his face as he left the king’s rooms and moved through the royal guard. As he turned the corner, though, he broke out in a wide smile.

  He couldn’t wait to tell Rosalyne the good news.

  *

  “Are you sure you don’t need me present when you meet with Benedict?”

  Rosalyne looked at Uncle Temp, who looked worse for the wear. The trip from Canterbury to London had done him in. After they’d arrived yesterday, his balance remained shaky. Nothing had changed with it today.

  “Nay. You stay in your bedchamber and rest. Edward is returning for the meeting and I am sure Sir Harry will also be present. I heard the worst of it yesterday. I think our time together today is more for Uncle Benedict and me to get to know each other a little bit.”