Merry Medieval Christmas

by Elizabeth Rose et al.

  The families in this story are all fictitious, though the Kerr clan was quite notorious for their reiving. While Henry de Percy was a real person, all accounts of him (except as the historical notes above) are products of my imagination.

  A last note: in Gaelic, Mh is pronounced V, which makes Mhàiri’s name Var-ee.

  ~Cathy MacRae

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to thank DD for helping me with this story. Always willing to let me bend an ear when navigating the details of Mhàiri’s story, reminding me fighting skills decay over time if not practiced, and for insisting Mhàiri should not let the heinous Richard Henderson get away with allowing his men to mistreat her. I cannot imagine writing without you!

  A million thanks to my awesome critique group; Dawn Marie Hamilton, Cate Parke, and Lane McFarland. This story certainly flows better for your kind, spot-on comments and suggestions. Your generosity with your time, skills and knowledge always amazes me. Writing a book is such an adventure with you!

  And kudos to Dar Albert for creating the marvelous cover. She’s inspired me to write another Yule tale soon!

  ~Cathy

  One Knight Under the Mistletoe

  A Medieval Romance Novella

  By

  Catherine Kean

  Copyright Details

  Published by Catherine Kean

  P.O. Box 917624

  Longwood, FL 32791-7624

  Visit Catherine’s website

  Copyright © 2014 by Catherine Kean

  Cover design by Kim Killion, The Killion Group

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  Chapter One

  Lincolnshire, England

  July, 1187

  “Lil, what do you really think of Ren?”

  Twelve-year-old Lady Liliana Thornleigh, blissfully floating on her back in the sunlit forest pool, exhaled a sharp breath and churned her arms to push herself upright. Her wet linen chemise gaped in front, threatening to expose her breasts. Small though they were, she’d rather eat spiders than bare them; she grabbed the garment and yanked it back into place.

  Crouching in the water, brushing damp hair from her face, she glowered at her friend standing nearby. “Why do you have to speak of him?”

  Ren was an annoying, arrogant knave. How she wished he’d train elsewhere to become a squire. He was, after all, at Maddlestow Keep only because her lord father had generously taken him in when Ren’s own sire couldn’t stand to live with him.

  Spending the afternoon swimming in this secluded pool near the fortress—a place her parents had often taken her and her older brother when they were younger—was intended as an escape from the castle and the blistering heat. For one afternoon, she’d hoped to be free of Ren. And yet, her best friend, Lady Averil Mansfield, had decided to talk about him.

  Liliana frowned, for Averil was smiling. Not just any smile. Her lips curved in that smug grin that said she had a secret.

  Twisting her long blonde hair into a rope, Liliana slung it over her left shoulder. “All right. What are you so eager to tell me?”

  Averil looked down at the water and trailed her fingers across the smooth surface. Her smile broadened.

  “Well?” Liliana pressed.

  “I think Ren likes you.”

  Liliana groaned. “Do not say such a thing.”

  “Why not? ’Tis the truth.”

  Dropping her hands into the water with a splash, Liliana said, “Ren is a hot-headed fool. I cannot understand why my father tolerates him.”

  “He is your brother’s best friend.”

  “’Tis no reason for my sire to put up with Ren’s mischief, especially when most of his tricks are played on me.”

  Heat stung Liliana’s face. She’d endured tremendous humiliation because of Ren. First, there’d been the thistles tucked into the toes of her boots; she’d discovered the prickly nuisances when, in a hurry to get to morning mass, she’d shoved her foot into her boot and yelped in pain. Then, there was the frog he’d dropped in her lap during the midday meal when Lord and Lady Kendelson were visiting; when Liliana had shrieked in surprise, the poor creature had hopped up onto the tablecloth, then leapt onto the platter of roasted vegetables, then onto the edge of the silver wine jug—

  “I think Ren plays those tricks because he wants to get your attention.”

  “Nay, he does it to drive me mad. I wish he would go far, far away.” ’Twould be the perfect solution. Then Liliana could spend afternoons with her fourteen-year-old brother, Haddon, whenever she wished—just like before. ’Twas even more infuriating that since Ren had arrived at the keep last month, Haddon had preferred to spend his days with him. Surely she, his sibling, was more important than some idiot newcomer.

  Liliana fought a gnawing pang of jealousy. She’d gone to her sire and told him of Ren’s mischief. Her father, of all wretchedness, had looked like he’d tried hard not to laugh, but had promised to speak to Ren. What her sire had found the slightest bit amusing in Ren’s wickedness was beyond her.

  Eyes burning, Liliana looked at the glistening water to her left. How she yearned to plunge beneath the deliciously cool surface, to glide under the water, the world around her reduced to the soothing swish and bubble of water against her skin. There, Ren could not trouble her.

  Male laughter drifted from behind the trees a short distance away. Liliana stiffened, and Averil’s eyes widened. As they both glanced toward the sound, Averil crossed her arms, covering her bosom barely concealed by her sheer, soaked chemise.

  Liliana recognized the laugh of Myles, one of her sire’s trusted men-at-arms, who had escorted them to the forest pool along with four other guards. She exhaled a relieved sigh. “’Tis only the men-at-arms.” Not, thank goodness, Ren. He wouldn’t have followed her here. The squires had sword practice this afternoon. Her anxiety, though, only showed how much Ren consumed her thoughts.

  “The men-at-arms aren’t spying on us, are they?” Averil sounded nervous. Her arms were still crossed.

  “Of course they are not spying. They are standing watch, with their backs turned, as I ordered.”

  “What if they decide to spy anyway?” The color had drained from Averil’s face. “Our wet chemises are…well…see-through.”

  “No one is spying on us.”

  “Oh, Lil. I could not bear it if ’twere so.”

  Tears shone in Averil’s eyes, and her gaze flitted to the thick, low branches of the tree where they’d left their gowns and shoes. Liliana swallowed down the impatience clamoring inside her. Averil’s moods had been so volatile lately—ever since she’d started growing breasts. Hers were larger than Liliana’s, even though they were both twelve years of age. However, breasts were breasts, were they not? All women had them. ’Twas no reason to shed tears at the slightest provocation.

  “The men will not spy,” Liliana said firmly. Myles, the stocky, brown-haired captain of the guard, had known her since she was a babe and was as protective of her as a father. He wouldn’t let the other guards watch them in the pool.

  Myles had escorted her family to this spot every summer for many years, and he never turned down the chance to sit in the forest shade, sip ale from his flask, and
enjoy the solitude. He was especially glad to accompany her when his friends came along. No doubt they were swapping bawdy jests and stories while standing guard.

  Liliana held Averil’s gaze. “We came here to swim. We should be enjoying the water before we have to return to the keep.”

  Smiling, Averil wiped her eyes. “You are right. Still…”

  “How about a race? First one to the opposite shore—”

  “Gets a berry tart, snatched from under the cook’s nose, by her friend’s fair hand.”

  “Agreed.” Liliana grinned. “Ready?”

  “We need to count down.”

  “All right,” Liliana said. “Three, two…”

  Averil dived into the water. Her noisy splashing drowned out Liliana’s counting.

  “Not fair,” Liliana cried. Then, laughing, she launched herself into the depths. Halfway to the opposite shore, she caught hold of Averil’s foot and tugged hard.

  Giggling, Averil kicked out, splashing Liliana in the face. Spluttering, Liliana coughed out a mouthful of water. Then, plunging her hands into the depths, she returned the watery assault, using her arms and legs. At last, exhausted, she floated on her back beside Averil and admired the cloudless blue sky overhead.

  ***

  Fourteen-year-old Ren de Vornay crouched among the tall ferns and bushes growing in the shade of the forest trees. “Look at those two ladies.” A wry chuckle tickled his throat. “They look like flat, upside down swans.”

  Haddon’s elbow jabbed into Ren’s side. “Do not call Lil a flat, upside down swan.” His words sounded harsh, but he was grinning. His blue-eyed gaze quickly returned to the young women.

  Ren carefully eased aside a fern frond hindering his view. He and Haddon had finished sword practice early. Hot, their clothes soaked with sweat, they’d come to the pool to cool off, only to be met by Myles and his men who’d told them Liliana and Averil were already there. Myles had insisted ’twould not be proper for the lads to swim with the young ladies and had suggested another place downriver for Ren and Haddon to go.

  Under the watchful gazes of the four men, Ren and Haddon had walked away.

  “Are we going to let him tell us what to do?” Ren had muttered, bolstered by the rebellion that had churned inside him from the day his father had become betrothed. “He is not a lord, only a captain of the guard.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Haddon had asked. Unease had shadowed his gaze.

  “At our first chance, we run back. We hide until Liliana and Averil are done swimming. Then, the pool is ours.”

  “Is that not disobedient?”

  Ren had shrugged. “We are not disobeying an order given by your father. Nor will we be risking propriety by swimming with Liliana and Averil, which was Myles’s concern, was it not? We are merely waiting our turn.”

  After a short hesitation, Haddon had nodded his consent.

  Moments later, convinced the lads were no longer a concern, the men had turned their backs and resumed their conversation. Ren and Haddon had raced back. Moving quietly through the undergrowth, they’d crept close enough to spy on the two maidens.

  Ren’s gaze slid to Liliana, standing now in the waist-deep water, smoothing her golden hair back from her face. Droplets glistened on her cheeks and throat. As she tilted her face up to the sunshine, her fair skin glowed. His gaze trailed down the slender curve of her neck, down to her chemise that clung to her skin and outlined the dips and curves of her body. Her breasts, round and firm, nipples as hard as berries, pushed against the wet, gossamer fabric as though straining to be free.

  His appreciation for breasts had grown recently, thanks to a busty maidservant who enjoyed flaunting what God had given her—especially if she could tempt one of the young men into a lusty coupling behind the stables. He hadn’t lain with her, even though she’d caught his hand and shoved it to her bared breast and then done her best to seduce him, but he’d heard other squires tell of her voracious appetite. Ren’s hands curled into fists, for Liliana was far more tempting than the well-endowed servant—or any other woman he’d met.

  He swallowed a groan. She was so very lovely.

  Liliana wasn’t just beautiful in face and form, but in her heart as well. Days ago, he’d followed her into the stable and had hidden behind bales of hay and listened while she visited the stalls and fed each horse a carrot. She’d talked to the animals as though they understood her, as though they were her friends. He’d also seen her give sticky, honey-covered treats to the peasant children who worked alongside their mothers and fathers at the keep, and rescue a kitten that had wandered too near the wheels of a moving cart.

  For a full sennight, he’d tried to catch her attention, but she hadn’t seemed to notice him. He and Haddon had become close friends, but that had made her even more distant. He’d finally resorted to trickery because, even though she resented his pranks, she at least acknowledged him, even if ’twas to glare at him. Yet, for all his effort, she still seemed to think of him as just one of the lowly squires who trained at her lord father’s castle.

  How did he make Liliana accept him? If only he knew.

  “Liliana,” Averil was saying. She also was standing now, twisting her dark brown hair to wring out the water. Her voice carried into the forest. “Do you think your brother…well…”

  “Well?” Liliana coaxed.

  “That he…likes me? More than just a friend?”

  Ren snorted a laugh. Haddon’s elbow rammed into his side again, causing Ren to inhale sharply.

  “Quiet!” Haddon groused. “You are going to give us away.”

  “Me? You are,” Ren shot back, still laughing. He covered his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound.

  “Shut up.” Grinning, his friend looked back at the pool. “I want to hear.”

  Liliana’s expression had turned thoughtful. “I honestly do not know if Haddon feels that way toward you.”

  Ren smirked. Haddon did care for Averil. He’d told Ren just how much he adored her, but Haddon clearly hadn’t told his sibling—or the young lady in question.

  “Oh.” Averil’s disappointed gaze dropped to the water. “Because—”

  “You fancy him.”

  A blush swept across Averil’s features, the rosy hue obvious in the bright sunshine. “He is most handsome, with his broad shoulders, golden hair, and blue eyes. I think he is the most beautiful man I have ever seen.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Haddon said, “Ha! Did you hear that?”

  Ren rolled his eyes, whereupon Haddon punched him in the arm.

  “He is also most gallant,” Averil went on with a shy smile. “A few days ago, I ran into him in one of the stairwells. I was going to the garden, to work on my embroidery, and was looking down at the steps, not ahead. We collided and in my surprise, I dropped my basket. He helped me pick up all of the fallen thread.” She sighed dreamily. “He was so kind.”

  “I am glad he helped you,” Liliana said. “So he should have, if he was partly at fault.”

  “Oh, I am certain the fault was mine. I was rushing. How many times have we been told not to hurry in the stairwells because we might trip on the hems of our gowns?” Sighing again, Averil shook her head. “Anyway, we were speaking of Haddon.”

  Liliana’s expression turned coy, a look Ren hadn’t seen on her face before. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. If she eyed him like that, he’d turn into a stuttering, witless fool. “You wish Haddon would kiss you,” Liliana said.

  “K-kiss,” Averil squeaked, her face turning scarlet.

  “Here we go,” Ren muttered.

  “Indeed.” Branches rustled as Haddon edged closer to the pool. “She wants me to kiss her?”

  Wonder infused Haddon’s voice. He sounded intrigued—and interested. As Ren stared at his friend, then looked back at Averil, sharp, stinging resentment welled up within him. Haddon had a young lady admirer. A beautiful young lady admirer. Why couldn’t Ren get noticed, too?

  Her cheeks st
ill bright red, Averil dropped down into the water so that only her face showed above the surface. “I did not exactly say I wanted Haddon to kiss me.”

  Liliana giggled. “You were thinking such, though.”

  Averil laughed. “I was.”

  “I knew it! Now, how do we make your desires known to Haddon, my dear but oblivious brother?”

  “You cannot tell him,” Averil pleaded. “Oh, Liliana you cannot! I would be mortified.”

  “You likely would be, if Ren was with him,” Liliana agreed, her eyes narrowing.

  Ren chortled. Now they were going to discuss him? How entertaining.

  Even as his excitement grew, guilt weighed upon his conscience. He had the sudden urge to rise from his hiding place and call out to them, for he shouldn’t be listening in on Liliana’s private words about him. He wasn’t a knight yet—he had years of rigorous training to complete—but he knew enough about the knightly code of honor to realize that eavesdropping in this instance was wrong.

  Hellfire, but if he made himself known, Myles and his men would come running, and Haddon would be discovered as well. They’d likely be reported to Lord Thornleigh and punished. Moreover, Ren’s curiosity coaxed him to stay as he was. How else would he know what Liliana truly thought of him? He had no other way to find out. He forced himself to remain still behind the concealing tangle of undergrowth.

  Averil shook her head. “If Ren found out how I feel about Haddon, he would tease me endlessly, in front of the entire castle.”

  “I know,” Liliana said.

  “Do you…have someone you wish to kiss?” Averil sounded hopeful, as if she didn’t want to be alone in her desire to be kissed.

  “Heavens, nay.”

  A faint grin curved Averil’s mouth. “Secretly, not even Ren?”

  Haddon snickered and glanced back at Ren, even as Liliana vehemently shook her head.

  “I would not kiss Ren if King Henry himself ordered me to do so.”