by Alexa Aston
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
When twin boys are born, a servant with a grudge switches their birth order . . .
1366 A.D. – Kenric Fairfax is raised as the second son of the Earl of Shadowfaire. The day of his Knighting Ceremony, a tragedy takes place—and Kenric flees the north of England, putting his past behind him as he swears he will never marry. He becomes a trusted knight in service to Lord Michael Devereux, who asks Kenric to lead an escort party from London in order to bring his wife’s sister home to Sandbourne.
Avelyn Le Cler has spent a year as a lady-in-waiting to Queen Philippa and finds the treachery at the royal court not to her liking. She looks forward to a summer visit with her sister Elysande, who will soon give birth to her first child. While journeying from London, Avelyn discovers a secret about Sir Kenric Fairfax that could change his life—if he believes her.
But Avelyn is plagued with doubts since she has no proof to present Kenric. As the couple falls in love, Avelyn knows she must reveal to Kenric the truth she has learned about his birth—even if it costs her everything.
Join Kenric and Avelyn as the truth rips them apart—but their enduring love brings them together again.
Journey to Honor
Knights Of Honor
Book Four
Alexa Aston
Copyright © 2017 by Alexa Aston
Kindle Edition
Published by Dragonblade Publishing, an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
Shadowfaire Castle—May, 1342
Gussalen looked down at the woman in the bed, her hair damp with sweat from the many hours of labor she had endured. At least, this time, a child would be the end result. Poor Juliana had lost three babes in the four years of her marriage to The Brute.
“Guss?” Juliana’s voice was barely a whisper now, hoarse from the piercing screams that had gone on since early morn.
“I am here, my lady,” the nurse said. “I will not leave you. I will never leave you.”
She took the noblewoman’s hand and squeezed it encouragingly. Juliana let out a long sigh and closed her eyes, resting them until the next birthing pain struck.
The young woman would deliver soon. Gussalen had grown up accompanying her own mother to hundreds of births until she herself had wed and become a midwife. Her new husband died in an accident less than a month before she gave birth to their child. One look at the weak, mewling babe told Gussalen that the infant would soon follow her husband to the grave. Two days later, the priest buried the child next to her father. Gussalen had wanted to crawl into the hole with them—until word came from the castle.
The baroness’ water had broken.
Gussalen answered the summons and delivered a beautiful, healthy daughter, but she could not save the mother. The master kept her on as wet nurse—and Gussalen never left. She raised Juliana from birth and attended the girl every day. The old lord, who had refused to marry after the death of his beloved wife, had not even let his daughter leave to foster, reluctant to part from his only child. Gussalen had gone from that household to Shadowfaire Castle seventeen years later upon Juliana’s marriage to the Earl of Shadowfaire.
And then the nightmare began.
Within the first week, an array of bruises covered her sweet girl’s body. The earl—tall, broad, and loud—enjoyed dominating women. Juliana had always been a timid flower. Quiet. Thoughtful. Fragile. She endured whatever punishment her new husband doled out in silence.
But the tears came when Gussalen brought a small meal to her mistress’ bedchamber each morning. She couldn’t imagine the horrors the earl subjected his wife to and Juliana never described them. The two women pretended nothing was wrong. She tended to her lady’s body as best she could—all the while cursing The Brute under her breath.
She had seen him pinch the bottom of a passing servant. Watched him push unwilling women into darkened corners while everyone in the great hall ignored what happened. Gussalen had come across the nobleman fondling the breasts of a frightened girl that was no more than half a score.
That was when she put her foot down—and paid the price.
The girl had escaped. The earl had not been pleased. He backhanded Gussalen with such force that she found herself lifted off her feet. Her cheek burned in agony, sliced open by the man’s signet ring. She bore the scar and reminded herself of her hatred toward him every day when she briefly touched her fingers to her face and traced the memory.
Injuring her hadn’t been enough to please The Brute. He had dragged her by her braid to the larder and slammed the door. Tossed her face down across a table and drew her skirts up past her waist. Forced himself upon her. She thought he might rend her in two, but she never whimpered, refusing to give him any satisfaction.
He’d ignored her after that. Gussalen made sure to give him a wide berth.
In her heart, though, she plotted revenge. For herself—and for Juliana. Gussalen thought of poisoning The Brute and smiled when she imagined his twitching body jerk, foam coming from his mouth as everyone in the great hall looked on in horror. Or she would slip into his bedchamber and stab him in the heart, twisting the baselard until the hilt reached his chest. She imagined sneaking down to the stables and loosening his saddle’s straps. Just enough so that it would come apart as he galloped across the field as he led the hunt. In her mind, she pictured him falling from his steed and being trampled by all those behind him, his body broken beyond repair.
Yet she had acted upon none of these desires. The time would come when Walter Fairfax, Earl of Shadowfaire, would pay for all that he had done to her and his wife.
Tonight, the debt would be collected. She had yet to decide just how.
Juliana’s eyelids fluttered open again. She gasped. Gussalen drew back the bedclothes to the foot
of the bed and saw a head beginning to crown.
“’Tis time, my lady. You must push.”
“I don’t know if I can, Guss. I think I would rather die than give birth to . . . his child.”
“No!” she said fiercely. “You will not die. You will live where your own mother did not and be a good mother to this child. It’s as much yours as his. More so, because you have nurtured it all these months. Now push!”
Juliana began straining, tiny whimpers escaping her parched lips.
Gussalen looked over her shoulder. The bedchamber still remained empty. When Juliana reached her sixth month without miscarrying, Gussalen had gone to The Brute and told him the best chance for him to see a child from his wife would be for the countess to spend the rest of her time in bed. Alone. With no distractions. At two score and having already seen one wife and three other children put into early graves, the nobleman readily agreed, desperate for an heir.
That day, Gussalen moved Juliana to a new bedchamber and isolated her. The Brute had not visited once during the last three months. She had gone downstairs and brought up all of Juliana’s meals. She bathed her mistress and cared for her. No one knew how large the countess had grown. Even now, The Brute drank himself silly in the great hall, awaiting news from Gussalen that his son had arrived. She had personally told him this morning that by nightfall, he would, once more, be a father.
So Gussalen helped the babe slip from her sweet lady’s womb—and believed another would follow. Even Juliana did not suspect since she had never come close to bringing a babe to full term.
The infant arrived in a slick rush of water and blood. As Gussalen slapped his bottom to help give him life, he gave a lusty cry. She studied the infant, frowning.
He looked exactly like The Brute.
The boy proved much larger than the usual newborn, with a head full of dark hair. His coloring was that of The Brute. She already hated him upon first sight. Still, she cared for the infant as she had for so many others over the years. Cut the umbilical cord. Cleaned and swaddled him. Placed him atop a pillow on the floor since the bed was soaked in sweat and blood.
And waited for the next one.
Juliana shrieked in pain again as the second child came out. She raised her head weakly to try and see what had happened, but exhaustion caused her to fall back into the pillows.
The Brute had a second boy. This one had the fair coloring of his mother and a sparse bit of blond hair atop his head. Gussalen had to slap him several times before he let out a soft mewl. She readied this babe, as well, smiling. It would serve the earl right if this one became his heir.
In that moment, her decision became clear. She would do it. Why not? No one would know, not even her sweet lady. Juliana had passed out from the strain of the births. Gussalen said a quick prayer to the Virgin Mary, hoping this one would survive as she wiped him clean and wrapped him tightly. What a huge joke on The Brute if this frail, little mite was destined to be the next Earl of Shadowfaire. She placed him beside his brother. He looked dwarfed alongside the other child.
She took a damp cloth and swept it across Juliana’s face. Pushed back her hair. Placed both babes next to a bare breast. Naturally, the greedy firstborn started guzzling, conquering the challenge of sucking without any trouble as he latched on to his mother’s breast. Gussalen knew this one would take everything in life—whether ’twas offered to him or not.
Even with her guidance, the fair twin had trouble finding his mother’s nipple. Gussalen feared he might not last the night if he did not learn to suckle, but she determined to let the earl know this weakling was his heir. Finally, the babe understood what he needed to do and began nursing quietly as his brother noisily drank inches away. She cleaned Juliana up as best she could and covered her and the babes with a clean linen sheet.
Slowly, Juliana came around as Gussalen bathed her face again. The countess looked down at the two bundles cradled next to her. Hope radiated from her smile.
“There are two?” she asked, wonder evident in her voice.
“Yes, my lady. Both boys. One thrives. The other?” She shrugged. “Not so much.”
“I want to see them.”
Gussalen pulled the tiny brute away. Milk dribbled down his chin. She held him out for inspection as he howled angrily.
Immediately, Juliana cringed. “Oh, he’s so like his father.” She bit her lip. “Put him aside, Guss. Let me see the other boy.”
She placed the dark one down and lifted the fair one, who remained quiet, his large, blue eyes studying his mother.
This time, the mother smiled. “Oh, he is so sweet.” Juliana reached her arms out and claimed the babe, cradling it close to her.
“You hold the firstborn, my lady,” Gussalen shared. “I hope he has a kind nature and will be a good lord to his people.”
“I do, too, Guss.” Juliana gazed with love at the child in her arms.
Gussalen made her next decision. “I fear you are one of those women who will not produce enough milk for the two of them. You will need a wet nurse. I had one waiting just in case. May I fetch her?”
The noblewoman nodded. She cooed softly to her babe as Gussalen crossed the room and stepped out into the corridor.
A heavy woman from the estate waited in the hallway. She had already borne two other children, the last coming almost two years ago. Gussalen had spoken with her about weaning her youngest so she could care for Lady Juliana’s babe.
“I hope you are ready,” she told the woman. “There are two of them. One will have no trouble nursing. It’s the firstborn I am concerned with.”
The woman nodded. “My youngest took some time to catch on. Do not worry, Gussalen. I will care for both babes as if they were my own.”
“Focus on the older one,” she cautioned. “He will be heir to Shadowfaire. Come in now.”
She led the woman into the bedchamber and to the bed.
“This is the woman I told you about, my lady. She will be wet nurse to both boys.”
“I thank you,” Juliana said quietly as Gussalen took the child from her and gave him to the wet nurse. “The heir.”
She gave the new wet nurse a few more instructions and indicated the second boy, making sure the three were settled in a chair in the corner of the room. After some coaxing, both babes suckled at the unfamiliar breasts. Gussalen nodded her approval to the woman and returned to the bedside.
“I need to tell your lord husband that he is father to two boys, my lady. First, I want to change your sheets and put you in fresh clothes. Comb your hair. You will want to look your best for him.”
Juliana let her do as she wished. Gussalen wanted everything perfect before she ventured downstairs to see The Brute. She even stopped by her own chamber and tidied up before she descended the stairs.
The evening meal had just ended and servants cleared the dishes away. Men moved the trestle tables back against the walls. She spotted The Brute standing with a group of his soldiers and made her way toward him. As she suspected, he had a cup in his hand and, from his flushed face, she knew he’d been drinking all day.
He caught sight of her as she approached. “You’d better have good news for me.”
“The countess did her duty, my lord,” Gussalen assured him. “She has given birth to not one boy, but two.”
The Brute gave a shout of approval. “Did you hear that? I have two sons!”
He lifted his cup and had those near him toast to the health of his children. He slapped a few backs and pinched a passing maid’s bottom.
“Would you like to see the twins, my lord?” she asked. Her heart raced at the deception she would now put into motion.
The earl nodded and followed her from the great hall.
Gussalen led him up to the bedchamber. The babes had finished nursing and now lay sleeping, one on each side of Juliana. As expected, he ignored his wife and snatched up the larger one that favored him. The child did not appreciate being grabbed so roughly and loudly bellowed his disp
leasure.
The Brute smiled. “See? This one has a good set of lungs on him. He’ll make a fine warrior. We shall name him Kenric. ’Tis a strong name for a strong heir.”
“But my lord,” Gussalen said, shaking her head sadly, “you do not hold the firstborn.” She indicated the other sleeping infant. “This is the babe who is your heir to Shadowfaire. Surely you wish to hold this son, for he will be far more important than the second born.”
The shock on the nobleman’s face gave her more pleasure than she’d imagined. The Brute looked to the smaller, pale babe that resembled his wife and back at her in disbelief.
“Nay. It cannot be. This one has a strong, lusty cry. He should be earl.”
Gussalen frowned at him. “Nay, my lord, Ask your wife.”
The Brute glared at Juliana as he possessively held the darker babe to his chest. “Tell me now. I order you. Which one is heir to Shadowfaire?”
Without hesitation, Juliana pointed to the tiny babe who had awakened at the shouting and fussed. “He was first to claw his way from my womb. He shall make a fine knight, my lord husband, as the true heir to Shadowfaire.”
The Brute looked as if someone had punched him in his gut. All the bluster fled from him. Disappointment darkened his face.
He glanced down at the babe in his arms. “At least I have a strong second born son in case the first weakling dies.” He thrust the babe into Gussalen’s arms and stormed from the bedchamber.
Juliana gasped in horror at his brash statement. She lifted the child and cradled him in her arms, kissing the babe’s forehead and smoothing down what little hair he had.
Gussalen secretly smiled to herself. The sickly runt might not hold the title of firstborn for long, but she would do everything in her power to see that this scrawny babe lived to become earl, simply to spite the present one.
“Take both babes across the hall to the chamber I have prepared for them,” she ordered the wet nurse who cowered in the corner. “I shall be with you shortly.”
The woman scooped up the fair child from his mother and took the darker one from Gussalen and exited the bedchamber.