The Knight Before Christmas: A Knight’s Tale Book 4

by Darcy, Diane

  The situation, while not ideal, might be the push he needed. It was time to start a family. He did not care for his cousin, the current heir, and had no intention of letting the man inherit.

  And he did know what he wanted in a bride. His future wife must be serious, high-minded, and above reproach. Most important of all, she must have big hips. His wife would not die in childbed as his mother had. He would not allow it.

  He liked his world ordered, and run on a time schedule. The lady must have the same desires so as to be the perfect helpmeet. The last thing he was going to allow was for the king to choose his bride. Who knew whom he would choose and for what reason?

  So, apparently, he was getting married, and fast.

  Lord Thomas looked up to see Father Benedict’s interest in the missive. He no doubt hoped to be told of the contents. His men at arms showed interest as well. But his grandmother was the only one bold enough to come forward.

  “Well? What does it say?” asked Lady Phillipa.

  He let her read the missive and she smiled, nodded approvingly, and tilted her head toward Lady Juliana, the daughter of one of her ladies.

  Lord Thomas weighed the idea. He needed to write to Lord Wallington about the new breed of sheep he’d purchased and he briefly considered the man’s daughter. But she was no doubt already betrothed; and anyway, the alliance was already a strong one.

  Juliana would not bring him an alliance. But she was here, and available. He’d not considered her in the past, but she was sweet tempered, biddable, and he could train her up in the way he wished her to act. His grandmother would be pleased, and most importantly of all, Lady Juliana did have big hips.

  He would have to think on it. He could not marry until after Twelfth Night anyway, but the wedding notice could be posted.

  He would ask Juliana to sit with him at supper during the week so as to be sure of the match. If all went well, he could talk to the girl’s mother and begin arrangements.

  He watched as Juliana walked back to the keep. Again, he noted her childbearing hips.

  Surely Juliana, dependent upon his grandmother’s good will, would be grateful for the match. Which in turn would ensure a goodly start to their marriage. So, why not?

  The more he thought on it, the more perfect she seemed. He could begin his courtship this night and inform her, and the king, of his decision at week’s end. In the meantime, back to the hogs.

  Chapter 3

  “What do you mean, it took me long enough?”

  A chill ran down her spine, and she trembled, clutching her arms around herself. In that moment she believed they both knew what she was talking about, but she wanted clarification. Because what she was thinking was crazy.

  “Your dreams, my dear.”

  She stood there, nearly paralyzed with fear, her heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been dreaming of this place for a long while.”

  She gasped in a breath. “What is going on?”

  He gave a slight shrug, his expression sheepish, his demeanor seeming out of place in the situation. “Please, call me Father Cuthbert. And you are Madison.”

  A chill raced down her spine.

  “I made a mistake, a long time ago, and ’tis come to light and I am attempting to fix it.” He smiled again. “And doing a very good job if I do say so myself.”

  Her heart pounded. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I may have made some … errors in judgment. But, ’tis all in the past.” He chuckled. “Literally, you might say.”

  When she didn’t react, he looked at her and sighed. “A few soulmates, just a few, mind you, were born centuries apart … and some lived lives of misery and despair. But do you think that is enough reason to threaten to decanonize me? Why, ’tis never been done!”

  “What are you talking about?” She’d like to feel sorry for the guy, but she was sort of freaking out. She recognized him from her dreams. At least she thought she did. Why had she been dreaming about a priest from Durham Castle and Cathedral?

  She glanced at the marble slab again.

  “You are living out of time, my dear. You have a beloved. You need to go to him.”

  Her mouth dropped open for a moment, and then she laughed, feeling slightly relieved. “Sorry, Father. You’ve got the wrong girl. I’m never getting married.”

  Like she’d ever give herself over to another man again. She’d learned her lesson.

  “Now, now, none of that.” He opened his hand and looked at the pair of earrings within. “I am the one who made the mistake, so I am the one who will fix it.”

  Pearls, surrounded by sapphires caught her attention; they were beautiful, stunning.

  “If only I didn’t have to give up my jewels to do it.” He sounded so wistful that she laughed again.

  “My dear, you do not understand. Your true love will marry another if you do not hurry and claim him.”

  “Oh, well, if only I didn’t have school … but I do. So, on account of that, I guess I’ll just relinquish my rights.” She must be starting to feel like herself again, because her tone was the slightest bit sarcastic.

  “No, you must claim him.”

  “Who are you, exactly?” She glanced around suddenly wondering if the man had a caretaker.

  Yes, she’d dreamed about him, or thought she had, but it was more likely that it was simply a case of her brain playing tricks on her.

  Lack of sleep, vivid dreams, a rush across the ocean. That would account for it.

  She was here, there was a priest, so she’d thought it was him.

  He smiled. “I suppose who I am, at the moment, is a matchmaker.”

  She glanced around again, hoping for another tour group, or a different priest, but it looked like she was on her own. “Look, it was nice to meet you. It’s a nice place you guys have here. But as I don’t plan to become any man’s possession, I think it’s best if I just leave.”

  She meant it. She’d never lose herself or give up on her own ambitions again.

  “But of course, you should marry.” Father Cuthbert looked genuinely distressed by her attitude. “This is my fault. All my fault.”

  She was actually starting to feel sorry for the poor man. She’d met the wrong person at exactly the wrong moment and his delusions had meshed with the strange dreams she’d been having. They were talking at cross purposes.

  Her therapist had told her that the death of her mother, followed by a bad relationship, needed to be analyzed in more detail.

  Madison should have spent more time exploring that, instead of crossing an ocean.

  “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to pass.” She glanced around again, but they were still alone. “Is there someone I can find for you?”

  “Oh, dear. This is what I get for not getting more involved. What if we were to say, strike a deal?”

  She considered simply turning and walking away, but he was so earnest, vulnerable even, that she felt it would be rude and unkind. Surely, he would wind down soon? Maybe wander off?

  She sighed. “What sort of deal?”

  “I’ll give you the chance to choose to stay there, or come back again without your heart’s desire. That way you’ll at least have met him.”

  “No.” She decided that rude or not, she was going to ease her way out of there. “There is so much to see. I think I’ll catch up with my tour group.”

  He followed. “My dear, wait! You must meet him so you’ll have your chance together. You were born in the wrong time.”

  She kept walking, slowly, so as not to be too abrupt, but moving away all the same.

  “You can have until Epiphany Eve to decide,” he said, as if offering a treat.

  She wasn’t positive, but wasn’t Epiphany Eve after the first of the year? “Sorry, I have classes, and then finals, and then I have to get ready for Christmas. There is just no way I can go anywhere, especially after taking this vacation.”

  What was she doing here?

  She gl
anced around, wondering once again where his keepers might be, as the poor man seemed to have snapped.

  She rounded a corner, and had no idea where she was or how to get out of there.

  She stopped and faced him. “Look, I don’t even believe in soulmates. Just people with similar life goals getting together. Any number of men would suit me just fine, if I wanted one, which I don’t.”

  “This is exactly why I’ve had to get more involved.” He sounded aggrieved. “If you do not choose to stay, you can return, having at least had the choice.”

  “I have a choice now,” she said firmly, and started walking again.

  He followed once more. “But ’tis worked out so well for the other girls! They are where they should be, all of them! They are happy now.”

  That’s right, he’d said that he’d done this before. She sped up, no longer worried about appearing rude.

  He kept pace, his robes floating around him. “It’ll only take an hour to get there by carriage.”

  “You don’t say.” She wasn’t giving this guy another second. She turned another corner only to find more marble, gilt, and tapestries. How on earth did she get out of this building?Sudden fear crept up her spine.

  He was crazy.

  Maybe she was crazy, too.

  Why had she come here? What, exactly, had inspired this whole thing?

  She stopped again, and tried one last time to convince him. “My soul is slightly tarnished, anyway. It’s not worth anything to anyone. So, it’ll have to be a hard pass for me, thank you just the same.”

  “Oh, my dear.” His face twisted in sympathy. “Souls are worth far more than you could ever imagine. But do not worry, you will see.”

  He lifted a hand, opened it, and showed her the earrings once more. “A gift,” he said, but she could sense his insincerity, and he looked slightly pained about giving them away.

  “Please, keep them.”

  He closed his fingers, hiding the earrings, and then opened his hand once more to reveal an empty palm.

  Her earlobes felt suddenly cold, and she reached up and gasped when she felt the earrings there. Her heartbeat quickened.

  She didn’t know how he’d done this magician’s trick, but had no intention of accepting. “No, thank you, I couldn’t possibly.”

  “I insist.”

  She started walking again and tried to remove one earring as she rounded yet another corner, and found herself right back at the marble tomb once again.

  Her hands dropped as she came to a stop and fear skittered down her spine once more.

  She wasn’t getting out of here, was she?

  Chapter 4

  The first day of Christmas

  Thomas was late for supper.

  Though it was Christmas Day, he’d told his grandmother to start the feast without him, in favor of finishing his main tasks.

  He’d set two extra watchmen to guard the estate, on rotation with the other sentinels. They’d serve from Christmas Day through Twelfth Night, though he wasn’t truly worried about lawlessness.

  Still, all the merrymaking could easily get out of hand what with the amount of alcohol that had been set aside for each day. They’d never had more than a few fights break out, and damage to persons and property had been kept to a minimum.

  Such a waste of time, but it was expected, and he did want to keep his people happy.

  At least they weren’t all fasting for Advent anymore.

  When he entered the keep, the smells of food and the sounds of merrymaking filled the air. Apparently, the drinking had already started, as voices were raised, and laughter was long and loud.

  Music and singing rose in the background, and when he stopped in the doorway of the great hall, he could see a haunch of venison roasting over the yule log burning in the massive fireplace.

  He’d picked the log out himself, earlier in the week, and because of its thickness, he judged it would last until Twelfth Night, and probably beyond.

  The tables were loaded with impressive amounts of food. Stews, rabbits, chicken, fish. Leg of beef, goose, suckling pig, duck and more. A ridiculous amount of food, actually, but it was also to feed the villagers that waited outside for the feast to end.

  Food would be plentiful during the entire holiday, and they’d planned for the excess well in advance, curing meat, filling cellars, and stocking larders.

  He rarely allowed himself to have dessert, but couldn’t wait for the thick fruit custard that cook always served on Christmas Day, filled with oranges, eggs, and dates.

  As he made his way between tables, he was loudly greeted by everyone: his men and their wives, the servants, and the ladies at high table. The wine was truly flowing.

  When his grandmother saw him, she smiled and raised a hand in greeting. “Thomas! As you suggested, we did not wait, though you did miss an excellent prayer from Father Benedict.”

  Father Benedict smiled and lifted a cup in the air. “To Lord de Woodville!” he said, before downing the contents.

  A cheer rose up in his honor.

  With a wave and a smile, Thomas took his seat at the head of the table and saw Juliana further down, sitting by her mother. Before he thought better of it, he called out. “Lady Juliana, will you do me the pleasure of sharing a meal?”

  Juliana’s eyes widened and the smile froze on her face.

  Some in the crowd quieted as they watched the byplay and, too late, Thomas considered that mayhap he should have asked her in advance. He was practically staking a claim.

  Lady Juliana was elbowed by her mother, Lady Felicia, who whispered something.

  Juliana slowly rose, awkwardly climbed over the bench, her green dress catching for a moment, and walked to the head of the table.

  The men on his left shifted down to make way for her.

  Juliana’s face was flushed, pretty against the blonde of her hair and he felt a stab of regret. It was too late to retract his offer, so he just said, “Come, share my meal.”

  She sat on the bench next to him, across from his grandmother, who smiled encouragingly at the girl.

  If Juliana was his wife, she would always sit near him.

  He waited for a surge of pleasure at that thought, but mayhap her obvious reluctance had spurred his own, and he simply wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

  Servants came forward and brought bowls of stew, and a trencher loaded with food, and set it between the two of them.

  He almost started with the stew, but thought he ought to share with her first, so as to make them both more comfortable, so he picked up some quail and took a bite. It was juicy and tender and as he chewed, he waited for her to help herself.

  Perhaps it was his task to serve her?

  He wasn’t sure.

  He picked up a spoon and knife, and settled some of the quail closer to her side of the trencher. “Come, try this. ’Tis delicious.”

  She shot him a glance, picked up a small piece of meat, and bit into it.

  When she didn’t say a word, he finally asked, “Well? How is it?”

  She winced, and he wondered if his voice had been on the sharp side, but he hadn’t meant it to be. He’d had little to do with ladies, and would try to learn gentler manners.

  When she never responded, he groped for something else to say. “The tables are full and the cooks have outdone themselves,” he stated the obvious, something he disliked when others did the same.

  Courting was more difficult than he’d believed.

  She nodded, which was not much of a response in his opinion. He had thought ladies liked to converse?

  He finally asked, “Do you not agree?”

  She nodded yet again, and he moved more of the meat, the best pieces, closer to her.

  Were all females this difficult?

  He turned to his grandmother, looking for her help, but she was in the middle of a lively conversation with Lady Vera, proof that women did like to talk. Mayhap silence was the way ladies started out a courtship and he’d not heard of
the practice? Perhaps it denoted modesty on her part, and he was the one bumbling the conversation?

  He lifted the cup they were to share and took a healthy swallow before saying, “I believe the wine is some of the finest we’ve put up. ’Tis nice to open it for Christmas, is it not?”

  She mumbled something.

  He tamped down his impatience. If this was some sort of female practice he’d not been informed of and not had the wits to observe for himself, he hoped it was short-lived.

  He ate more food, not getting nearly the enjoyment out of it that he’d planned.

  He found himself brooding, and tried to check his mood. Surely, there were reasons he wanted to marry beyond the fact that it was expected of him?

  He didn’t like where his thoughts veered. He was not a victim in this. He expected marriage for himself and would have gotten to it soon enough, and Juliana was a likely enough choice.

  His honor was everything, and his future wife should be above reproach. Lady Juliana fit the bill.

  He liked his world neat, ordered, and run on a time schedule, and he expected she’d fall in line easily enough. She didn’t seem the type to give him any trouble.

  He needed to plan for the future, and part of that included having children. Lately, life had felt a bit pointless, a never-ending series of tasks staving off the specter of famine or death. Perhaps having heirs would give him more of a sense of purpose.

  Also, a woman in his bed every night, a vast point of favor.

  And with her big hips, it was unlikely she’d die in childbirth.

  All in all, she seemed a perfect choice.

  She ate now, if only small bits of food here and there, but it pleased him. Perhaps her quiet and gentle nature was actually another point in her favor. Mayhap she was biddable, like his horse. He’d not stand for a horse that gave him any trouble, so why not choose a wife with a similar manner?

  Yes, he would propose to the quiet and gentle Juliana. He’d inform her they would marry after the new year.

  After Epiphany.

  It was a good plan, and he mentally added it to his tasks.

  Meanwhile, he’d try courting her again. “I noted that it snowed a little earlier, but has stopped now. That is good, do you not think?”