Lasses, Lords, and Lovers: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

“It is hardly worth mentioning,” he said. “I will heal completely.”

  He had hoped those words would ease Elizaveta, but they didn’t. She still had the knife to Lady de Witt’s throat. She took her gaze from Drake, frowning at the men below her, still clearly unhappy in spite of the fact that men were bending to her demands. There was something left in her, some kind of fight that wouldn’t give in so easily. She had been righteously offended, her husband had been injured, and now it was her time to speak. When she did, it was to de Witt.

  “You fool,” she snarled at the man. “So this is how you conduct yourself? The king’s missive told you that my husband had married the East Anglia heiress and your wife, being born a de Mandeville, decided that she would avenge generations of her family by killing me. Is that the idiotic scheme she came up with? To kill me while you ambushed my husband and his men?”

  A great deal was suddenly coming clear as to the reasons behind the attack, although none but a few understood the bad blood between du Reims and de Mandeville. Drake, however, was one of those who clearly understood; feeling a good deal of rage in his veins, Drake looked at de Witt.

  “Is that what this was all about?” he asked the man. “You had prepared this ambush because your wife is a de Mandeville and she wanted to kill my wife?”

  De Witt stood his ground. “Your wife’s family has made my wife’s family miserable for many years,” he said. “My wife’s intention was to avenge her family’s honor, as Lady de Winter has said. But now that is not to be and I want my wife returned to me, unharmed. You may do as you wish with me when we are reunited.”

  Drake was truly at a loss, outraged and genuinely baffled by the man’s position. “So you would let your wife murder mine?” he asked, increasingly outraged. “Is that why you allowed that she should go into the keep without escort and find your wife inside?”

  “It is.”

  Drake had to make a conscious effort to keep his jaw from dropping. “But I serve Edward, as do you,” he pointed out. “We are allies. You would listen to your wife’s foolish prejudices over your duty to your king?”

  De Witt simply looked at him; there was no point responding to what they both knew was truth. Drake grunted as realization dawned, looking to Devon and Cortez and seeing his outrage reflected in their eyes. It was a ridiculous and vain situation that had caused this chaos. Drake’s fury bloomed and he handed Lespada to Devon, moved over to where de Witt was standing, and threw a massive fist into de Witt’s jaw.

  The tall knight went sailing backwards with the force of the blow, losing three teeth in the process. Overhead, Lady de Witt screamed anew when she saw the blow against her husband.

  Twitching with rage, for hitting the man had not satisfied him in any way as he had hoped, Drake turned his attention back up to the window. “Elizaveta,” he commanded in a tone that did not invite refusal. “Bring that woman down here now.”

  Elizaveta didn’t hesitate. She and Daniella pulled Lady de Witt out of the window by her hair and shoved the weeping, struggling woman down the spiral stairs and into the chamber with the big hearth and the dirt floor. The gate that led to the small entry room was locked and Elizaveta held the big knife to Lady de Witt’s ribs as Daniella unlocked the gate. Then, they pushed the woman through, all the way out into the bailey where she broke free of them and ran to her husband, who was just starting to pick himself up from the dirt. As the pair huddled together, Drake went immediately to his wife.

  His gaze upon her was something Elizaveta couldn’t quite understand; there was fear there but there was also gratitude. Appreciation. She definitely saw appreciation. She also thought she might have seen respect and approval, but barely knowing the man, it was difficult to tell. When he spoke, his voice was oddly hoarse.

  “Are you well?” he asked. “She did not hurt you, did she?”

  Elizaveta could feel the concern from the man, pouring out over her like warm and viscous honey. It clung to her, embraced her, and made her feel, for the first time in her life, as if someone actually cared for her. It was a new and wonderful feeling, something that took her breath away. She reached out and gently grasped his jaw, turning his head to get a look at the gash on his cheek.

  “She did not hurt me,” she said, eyeing the wound as he took his hand off of it to show it to her. “Although it was not for lack of trying. She came after Daniella and me with this very big knife. We were forced to subdue her with a fire poker.”

  She stopped inspecting his gash long enough to hold up the knife that was still clutched in her hand. Drake sighed heavily and took the knife from her. He looked at the blade, sharp and heavy, nearly sick thinking of what could have happened had de Witt’s wife been successful. God, he couldn’t even imagine it.

  “Praise God that you were able to overcome her,” he said sincerely, shaking himself of the terrible thoughts of what could have been. “I had no hint of what was happening until de Witt and his men attacked my army. I am sorry I was not there to defend you but it seems as if you did not need defending, after all. In fact, from what I just saw, I would say you can hold your own against any man or woman. God help the next fool who threatens you.”

  He lightened the moment and Elizaveta grinned modestly. “I simply could not let her harm me or Daniella,” she said, but sobered quickly enough. “You must allow me to tend that gash. It must be sewn.”

  He waved her off, unconcerned with the injury to his face. “There will be time for that later,” he said, changing the subject back to her and her heroics. “I have decided that I will be taking you into battle with me in the future.”

  She laughed, flattered by his words and successfully diverted from talk of his wound “It is strange,” she said. “I was afraid, that was true, but I was more concerned with making sure I came out of it alive. I was not about to make an easy victim.”

  Drake smiled. He wanted to touch her in the worst way but he was covered with gore and didn’t want to drag that nastiness onto her skin. For the moment, all he could do was stand there and admire her from a distance. And he was coming to admire her a great deal.

  “Your bravery is impressive,” he said. “Not that I had any doubt, for you have proven yourself a courageous woman since I have known you, but this situation could have been quite deadly. I am proud of your actions, Elizaveta. Quite proud.”

  Elizaveta had never heard such praise in her life. No one had ever been proud of her – not her father nor mother nor grandedame, or if they had been, they had never told her. Drake was the first person to ever praise her in such a way and she liked the feeling very much. She felt warm, and fulfilled somehow, and happy. Very happy. Considering what had been going on, it was odd that she should feel joy at this moment but her joy was directly related to Drake’s approval.

  “Thank you,” she said, although it was clear she had no idea how to respond. Drake chuckled at her awkwardness and Elizaveta giggled in return, a sweet and awkward moment between them. But she caught sight of Lady de Witt and her husband out of the corner of her eye and her focus shifted to them. Her smile faded. “What do you intend to do with those two?”

  Drake turned to see where she was looking, his gaze falling upon Watcyn and his wife as Lady de Witt tried to tend her husband’s swollen mouth. “I suppose that depends on you,” he said, returning his attention to Elizaveta. “Lady de Witt is a de Mandeville by birth. She tried to kill you. She is clearly your enemy. What do you want me to do with her?”

  Elizaveta was somewhat surprised he had asked her such a question and it was evident that his decision rested upon hers. She took his query very seriously as she pondered her thoughts on the matter.

  “If she is punished, it will only make the situation worse,” she said quietly. “If she is executed, it could be quite bad for my father and for you. The de Mandevilles mostly keep to themselves but they are men we do not want to provoke. It is like poking a beehive; at some point, the bees will come out and they will sting you. I am afraid that if we take
any action against her and her husband, it will only make it worse.”

  Drake understood her reasoning. Not that he agreed, but he understood. “If we do not take action, it could also appear as weakness,” he said quietly. “I am not attempting to dispute you but simply offer another opinion. Families like the de Mandevilles only understand brutality. Sometimes you must speak in their language.”

  Elizaveta considered his words. “Then what would you do?”

  Drake turned once more to look at the couple seated on the ground, surrounded by de Winter soldiers. “Execute her for what she tried to do to you,” he said as he turned around to face her once again. “As a husband, I cannot let an attack on my wife go unanswered. Surely you understand that.”

  Elizaveta was thinking on how the House of de Mandeville would react to one of their womenfolk being executed. “I understand,” she said softly. “As I said, I fear action such as that will only make matters worse. Already the de Mandevilles hate my family. If Julia is executed… surely they will go mad. None of us will know peace.”

  Drake sighed heavily before giving her a wink and turning, heading over to where Cortez was standing several feet away. Cortez had been his commanding officer for a few years and he trusted the man’s judgment implicitly. When he caught Cortez’s attention, he motioned the man over to him. Cortez joined him in a private huddle.

  “I fear that my emotions may have affected my judgment in this situation,” he confided to Cortez. “I need your counsel. Lady de Witt tried to murder my wife. My wife fears that if I punish Lady de Witt, that it will only exacerbate the hostilities between the de Mandevilles and the du Reims. Mayhap I should clarify the situation for you; years ago, an ancestor of my wife’s murdered a de Mandeville cousin and inherited the Earldom of East Anglia as a result. There have been hostilities between the families ever since.”

  The light of understanding went on in Cortez’s eyes. “Ah,” he said. “Now I comprehend. I was wondering what all of this stemmed from. Now I know. A blood feud.”

  “Essentially.”

  “Who are the de Mandevilles?”

  Drake grunted unhappily. “A family that lives like animals, not far from here,” he said. “They are ruthless and without morals. They are beasts better left alone, which is why Lady de Winter fears provoking them by punishing one of their kin.”

  Cortez cocked a dark eyebrow. “People like that only understand violence,” he said. “If Lady de Witt is spared, they will see it as a weakness.”

  “That is what I told my wife.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to execute the woman and send her body back to her family and tell them that I will do the same thing to any of them who make a move against me or my family.”

  Cortez looked over at Lady de Witt as she tenderly wiped the blood from her husband’s face. “You have no choice,” he said. “That is what must be done. A blood feud will not stand for anything else. There is no mercy in a dynamic such as that. Mercy would be viewed as a failure.”

  Drake’s opinion of the situation was confirmed. Terrible as it was, they had no real option in the matter. He sighed knowingly, glancing over at his wife, who was standing alone, watching him. He smiled weakly at her and turned back to Cortez.

  “If you will take my wife in hand, I will do what needs to be done,” he said. “Please take her into the keep and do not let her leave. I will join her when I am finished.”

  Cortez reached out and grasped his arm. “I will do what needs to be done,” he said. “You take your wife and explain to her the way of things.”

  Drake shook his head firmly. “Nay,” he replied. “Although I appreciate your offer, this is something I must do. The attack was against my wife and soon enough the de Mandevilles will come after me as the bearer of the title they so badly desire. This punishment and this message must come from me, you understand. I must show my worth to those who would threaten me and my family. If I do not, I will never have peace.”

  Cortez understood his reasoning. “What will you tell your wife?”

  Drake exhaled slowly, pensively. Then, he turned for Elizaveta. “Come with me,” he said quietly. “You will see.”

  Cortez followed the man as they made their way over to Elizaveta, who was gazing up at her husband rather eagerly. Drake forced a smile.

  “I must see to the prisoners,” he told her. “I am going to send you into the keep with Cortez as protection. Please feed the man and begin your assessment of our household needs as I see to my business. I will join you as soon as I am able.”

  Elizaveta nodded, putting a hand on his sleeve, getting dried blood on her fingers. “What are you going to do?”

  Drake was careful in his reply. He didn’t want to lie to her, but for her sake, he didn’t feel as if he could tell her the entire truth. Not knowing the woman very well, he didn’t want to chance damaging their blossoming relationship. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he really didn’t want to take that chance. He was going to do exactly what she had asked him not to do.

  “I am going to organize the prisoners, speak with de Witt, and send them all back to Westleton Manor,” he said. It was the truth for the most part. He didn’t say anything about sending de Witt and his wife back alive or dead. “My father says that Westleton is their seat so I will assume that is the place to send them but I will confirm that with de Witt. I will send them back with a message to beware of de Winter and East Anglia properties. One move against me and I will bring the whole of Norfolk down around them. They will consider it their one and only warning.”

  Elizaveta was still concerned but seemingly satisfied. “Then I will trust you to do as you see best,” she said to her husband, turning to Cortez. “Will you come inside with me, my lord? It is a very interesting place inside, at least what I saw of it before I was running for my life. There are iron gates everywhere.”

  Cortez grinned at her humor. “Actually, I believe I will go with your husband as he completes his tasks,” he said, completely defying Drake in front of his wife and knowing very well that Drake would not argue with him. He turned to see Devon and Daniella standing a few feet away, holding one another, and he pointed to the embracing pair. “I am sure that Lady Daniella and her husband would be more than delighted to accompany you back into the keep. Devon?”

  He called out to the twin de Winter brother, waving the man over when Devon lifted his head to look at him. Devon took Daniella by the hand and led her over to where Cortez and Drake and Elizaveta were standing. He looked curiously at Cortez, who answered the man’s unspoken question.

  “The ladies will need an escort into the keep,” he told Devon. “Go with them and stay with them while I attend your brother. He has a mess to clean up here and I will assist him. Will you attend the ladies now, please?”

  Devon was more than happy to, considering it would mean sticking close to Daniella’s side. He was more concerned for her than he was with his brother’s activities, and he gladly took Elizaveta by the elbow and led her off towards the keep. Elizaveta, however, kept turning around to look at Drake, who kept the same forced smile on his face and even waved at her once as she headed for the rectangular-shaped keep. When she disappeared inside with his brother, Drake’s smile faded. He turned to Cortez, his expression now deadly serious.

  “Let us do what needs to be done, then,” he said, his tone low. “Have James separate out the de Witt men, wounded or able, into a group. Any dead will be turned over to the church on the other side of the wall for burial. You and I will take de Witt and his wife to an area that is well away from the keep and do what needs to be done. After that, I will have de Witt’s men take the bodies back to Westleton and let them know that so goes any traitors or aggressors towards East Anglia. Any and all hostility will be met with deadly force. As the future Earl of East Anglia, I must send that message. They must know that I will not make an easy or willing target for their ages-old hatred.”

  Cortez concurred. “You
have no choice,” he said. “And when this is finished, you must tell Edward what has happened. I am sure he did not know that de Witt’s wife was a de Mandeville when he sent the missive announcing your arrival, but you must let the man know the aggression his missive stirred up. He will want to know all of it.”

  “Indeed he will.”

  Cortez hesitated a moment. “Drake,” he said. “When the time comes to dispense the punishment, you should allow me to do it. That way, when your wife learns what has happened, your hands are clean.”

  Drake looked at him in surprise. “Why would you say such a thing?” he demanded in a harsh whisper. “This is my responsibility.”

  Cortez shook his head, grasping Drake by the shoulder. “But I have no stake in it,” he said. “If you kill them both… you have led her to believe that are you are not going to kill them. When she finds out you deceived her, it may not go well for you. Are you willing to risk that?”

  Drake was afraid of that very same thing but he did not want to voice it to Cortez. “I will have to take that chance,” he said. “These people tried to kill me and my wife. What kind of man would I be to let others punish them in my stead?”

  “A wise one because it keeps your hands clean and your emotions out of it.”

  Drake didn’t have anything to say to that but he was determined to do what he had to do, for all their sakes. In silence, Drake and Cortez moved to Watcyn de Witt and his wife, separating the couple from the group of battered men and taking them off to the hall where they were hidden from view. Lady de Witt clung to her husband, distraught, as if only now realizing her decision to try and kill Lady de Winter would have dire consequences. It was clear that failure in her quest hadn’t occurred to her.

  Lady de Witt cried and begged for their lives, only quieting when Drake set them in a corner of the hall, near the door that led out to the stable yard, and calmly discussed the situation as he saw it. It was a quiet area, and shielded, and Drake lost sight of Cortez as he explained that blood feuds were not particularly healthy to anyone. He discussed that he, as a de Winter, had married into these aggressions and he wasn’t happy about it in the least. Lady de Witt was quick to defend her family’s position and in her fervor, Drake could see, still, that the woman had absolutely no qualms about making the attempt against Elizaveta. Drake was quite certain that, given another chance, she would do it again.