Haunted Knights (Montbryce~The Next Generation Historical Romance)

by Anna Markland

  The dark haired knight waiting with the dwarf had a look of his cousin, Baudoin. Henry’s minions had informed him of the young man’s unfortunate deafness. Pity! He had no doubt his brother would continue the fight to take the Crown of England away from him. He would need every able-bodied loyal knight. One thing was for certain, the Montbryces were loyal, deaf or not, and one had only to look at the dwarf half brother to know valour came in all shapes and sizes.

  Henry shrugged deeper into the blue woollen cloak he had donned against the chill. Two or three servants rushed to aid him. Did they consider him incapable of pulling on a cloak? He waved them away impatiently. “Find out where the infernal draught on the back of my neck is coming from, and get rid of the smoke before we choke.”

  Irritated and anxious to get to petitioners more interesting than the portly Revandel and his brats, he dismissed the family abruptly. Thank goodness the man had acquiesced to the strong suggestion he retire to the country with his harlot daughter and immature sons. Henry had not been aware the Revandels had ended up at Poling. Too close to Arundel for comfort. And now the upstart wanted his wayward daughter named as lady-in-waiting to the Queen. Matilda would have his head if he bestowed such an honour on the chit.

  ~~~

  Letyce kept the decorous smile on her face until she turned away from the King. What a hypocrite! He pursued mistresses into his royal bed with disgusting frequency, breeding illegitimate children willy-nilly, yet looked down his aquiline nose at her and her family.

  Her ill humour intensified when she caught sight of Adam de Montbryce and his imbecilic neighbour standing with the next group. And a dwarf! No—two dwarfs.

  She jutted out her chin, passing them with her nose in the air, a smirk on her face. She glared at Winrod and Dareau when they paused to speak to the mute. They quickly fell in line behind their pompous father.

  It occurred to her as she swept out of the pavilion that there had been two other young knights with Montbryce. She should have paid them more attention. Maybe they were worth pursuing?

  ~~~

  The King leaned forward to whisper to his chamberlain. His blue cloak fell open, revealing a jewel encrusted metal collar resting on the royal shoulders—gold no doubt. The official struck the wooden dais with a staff topped with a silver sphere, drew back his shoulders, and declared, “His Majesty wishes to speak to Vincent and Lucien Lallement.”

  Denis vacillated between exasperation and relief as the Lallement brothers stepped forward, amid the disgruntled murmurings of people ahead of them. He wanted this interview over with. Never one to shy away from a challenge, he preferred to remain in the background, not be on show as they were now in this circus.

  Richly dressed courtiers clustered around the perimeter of the royal pavilion, watching, obviously anticipating entertainment.

  Vincent and Lucien bowed low until the King gave them leave to rise. He eyed them sternly. “Your grandfather came to these shores even before my father. Now I am told his name has been sullied by recent events at Kingston Gorse. Explain.”

  Denis itched to step forward, but changed his mind at a wary glance from his brother. He had advised Vincent and Lucien to be forthright. Their parents’ transgressions were not their fault.

  Vincent braced his legs. “Our parents are dead, killed in a fire at our home. We believe our mother may have started the blaze.”

  Denis had a new respect for Vincent’s courage.

  Rosamunda gasped and swayed against Adam.

  Paulina tightened her grip on Denis’ hand.

  A collective murmur of surprise soughed through the assembly.

  The glowering King said nothing.

  Lucien cleared his throat. “Our mother has been unwell for many years.”

  A few in the crowd snorted quietly. Obviously they had met Maudine Lallement.

  Lucien stiffened his shoulders. “The birth of two daughters with—difficulties, stole her wits.”

  Henry pointed a royal finger at Rosamunda and Paulina. “These are the women you speak of? Your sisters?”

  Paulina’s shudder shook Denis. He gripped her hand. “Courage, ma petite.”

  “Adam de Montbryce and Denis de Sancerre, escort the Lallement sisters forward.”

  A spark of relief flickered to life in Denis’ breast. The King had respected that the women would need the support of their men. He put Paulina’s trembling hand atop his arm, smiled and led her forward.

  Adam followed suit with Rosamunda.

  Henry studied them intently. He smoothed his thumb and forefinger over his moustache. “Adam de Montbryce. We welcome you and acknowledge with respect your lineage and the support your family has given mine. I trust your accommodations are in accordance with your wishes?”

  Adam bowed his head. “They are beyond my expectations. I thank your majesty.”

  Denis was thankful the king had spoken clearly and Adam had understood, then he felt the weight of the king’s gaze. Sweat beaded on his brow.

  “Denis de Sancerre, your prowess as a warrior is well known, your loyalty to my person appreciated. You have proven that stature has naught to do with bravery and honour.”

  He glanced around the pavilion. “There are some here at Arundel who might learn much from you.”

  One or two in the crowd murmured their agreement, others looked away, scowling.

  Denis’ heart raced. Praise and honour from a king! What more could a valiant knight wish for?

  Henry turned his attention to Rosamunda and Paulina. “We are aware of the difficulties imposed upon you by your parents, and we express our sorrow. We understand you now wish to marry?”

  Both women nodded.

  Henry chuckled. “You have chosen two fine knights to wed—and bed!”

  A ripple of bawdy laughter shimmered through the pavilion.

  Paulina blushed, smiling at Denis.

  Rosamunda and Adam stared straight ahead.

  Denis’ heart lurched for his brother.

  Henry held up a hand and the laughter ceased. “We give royal assent for both marriages. However, I suspect you will wish to marry in Normandie. My brother will expect you to seek his permission.”

  It was not until the six were safely away from the royal pavilion that Denis and Adam swore at once, “Merde!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Malraux de Carnac held his palms to the brazier, welcoming its warmth. The English damp chilled his Breton bones. He rubbed his hands together then transferred the heat to his biceps.

  Not of a rank to be granted entry into the royal pavilion, he had taken up a position in sight of the comings and goings of the petitioners where he might still feel the brazier’s heat. There was invariably some advantage to keeping an eye on people who wanted something so badly, they were willing to petition a king for it.

  He rather relished the demonic look he imagined the glow of the brazier’s embers gave his thin face. After all, everyone was here to celebrate Hallowmas.

  He rolled his eyes, yawning away his boredom. Normans were too conservative, too much in love with form and order. The much vaunted upcoming celebrations for All Hallows’ Eve, the first day of the Triduum, paled in comparison with those planned for Carnac. Bretons knew how to organize truly spine-chilling festivities. No matter. It was not his intention to remain at Arundel for Hallowmas.

  While he waited for the unusual group with the dwarfs to emerge, he ran over the details of his departure in his mind. Ride to Portsmouth, ship rigged and ready to take him to Ouistreham, horses and a pack animal waiting near Caen for the long ride across Normandie and Bretagne to his coastal home. It was a tedious journey, but All Hallows’ Eve in Carnac could not be missed, especially for a member of the local ruling family.

  He had been too long at Henry’s court with little to show for it except some deliciously wicked sexual encounters, and a bevy of new “friends” to blackmail, if he were so inclined. Normans looked down their noses at Bretons, though they would never have trium
phed at Hastings without the fearsome Breton cavalry, but in Carnac, Malvern was respected and feared by his inferiors. As it should be.

  What was taking so long for those infernal dwarfs to reappear? A tingle ran up his spine. There was amusement to be had with those two in Carnac!

  No one knew why the ancients had erected hundreds of standing stones in his village, some small, some big, but only one, Le Manio, towered over twenty feet high. Malvern’s ancestors had refined a way to use the giant stone for the amusement of the general populace. A yearly dose of terror kept peasants in line.

  A maiden was selected each year to be thrown from the top of Le Manio into the arms of eager men gathered below. A few did not survive the fall, though most were happy to show their gratitude to the men who saved them. Perhaps this year they might toss the female dwarf and see if her bowlegged beau could catch her.

  He closed his eyes, his shaft hardening as an image of the tiny woman clinging desperately to the giant phallic monument settled in his mind. He snapped his eyes open, his attention caught by the rustle of skirts and disgruntled male voices. A scowling woman bustled out of the royal pavilion. Evidently her petition had not been granted.

  Something struck a chord of memory. He narrowed his eyes. Dieu! It was Letyce what’s-her-name. His arousal turned to granite as he recalled a night of erotic passion. There was a woman who knew how to enjoy herself. He had looked forward to many nights of pleasure, but then she had disappeared from Henry’s court. What was she doing here, pouting mightily?

  He stroked his pointed beard, shifting his weight to ease the ache at his groin. Letyce would find Henry’s Hallowmas celebrations tame. Perhaps he might persuade her to accompany him to Bretagne?

  ~~~

  Some of Letyce’s anger dissolved when she cast eyes on de Carnac. She had spent only one night with him, but he had proven to be an excellent lover who understood her need to give, and receive pain—just the right amount to make the joining memorable.

  He had seen her. Her heart skipped a beat as he strode towards them. Perhaps these festivities might prove to be worthwhile after all. She stopped so abruptly, Winrod walked into her. “Dolt! Careful.”

  She turned to her father. “Papa, why don’t you take my dear brothers to the groaning board over there and keep an eye on them?”

  She tweaked Dareau’s cheek. “They tend to be gluttons. We would not want them disgracing our family name.”

  As usual, the gullible fool took her words at face value. Thanks be to the saints she had not taken after her father, though she was not like her mother, either. Impossible to conjure a picture of her Maman with the likes of Malraux de Carnac. She suppressed a snort of amusement.

  The Breton swept his hat from his head and showed an elegant leg, bowing ridiculously low. His hair had thinned on top, but he was still attractive in a devilish sort of way. The glint in his eye told her he remembered their night together.

  “Demoiselle Letyce,” he oozed. “Enchanté. I have missed you. Where did you disappear to?”

  His eyes narrowed as he watched her father and brothers’ progress towards the trestle tables. “Your family?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Indeed.”

  He proffered his arm. “Delightful as it is to spend time with siblings and parents, I believe I am a much more suitable escort for you, ma chère.”

  Desire struck between her legs like a bolt of lightning. He winked, the gleam in his eye sparkling in the gathering darkness, and pinched one of her pebbled nipples—hard. She feared she might swoon if he did not bed her quickly. “Come to our pavilion,” she urged, taking his arm.

  He held fast. “Alas, lowly Breton that I am, I was not assigned my own pavilion. However your family may return and happen upon us.”

  She snorted. “They will not leave the tables until there is no food left to scoff.”

  He took her hand, but a movement at the royal pavilion caught his attention. “A moment, my dear. I am curious to watch this entourage of dwarfs.”

  Letyce pressed her breast to his bicep. He was not muscled, but lean and sinewy. Pliable. The memory sent shudders of anticipation through her. “Huh! It’s Adam de Montbryce and his muette.”

  “A Montbryce! You know them?”

  “Vaguely. They are not important. He’s impotent.”

  ~~~

  Malraux chuckled. No wonder the black haired giant was not important to Letyce if she judged him incapable of servicing her in bed. This was proving to be interesting. A member of the Montbryce family impotent! He tucked the knowledge away. “The woman is mute? Who is she?”

  Letyce clucked impatiently, reinforcing his belief she had made a play for the handsome knight and been rebuffed. “Apparently his betrothed. Wait until the poor girl gets him in bed.”

  Malraux tucked the knuckle of his forefinger under her chin. The hore was practically salivating for him. “Indeed, a man who fails to respond to your tempting wares must be a veritable eunuch.”

  She looked at him curiously. Had she gleaned the insult? He doubted it. “And what of the dwarfs?”

  Letyce shrugged, pulling him away from watching the giant and the dwarf engage in some sort of heated discussion. All was not well. He would be patient and discern later what was afoot. Mayhap tossing a dwarf off Le Manio was within the realm of possibility.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Denis kicked away the stool he’d had his feet propped up on in the pavilion he shared with Adam. “Two more sennights of these so-called festivities! I will go mad.”

  His brother took a swig of watered ale. “Me too. I am impatient to be off to Normandie. Who knows how long it will take to get Curthose’s permission to marry? He may refuse to give it, in view of our family’s lack of support for him.”

  Denis fumed. “While I appreciate this fine marquee we’ve been allotted, it is too cramped even for me to pace in. We cannot go out and about. The bonfires terrify Paulina. I need to get her away from here. She refuses to leave their pavilion, convinced some evil will befall Topaz. The only time she agrees to go out is when we help ourselves to Henry’s excellent fare on the trestle tables.”

  Adam finished off his ale, put the tankard down, and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “She may be right. Some of these people are whipping themselves into a frenzy, overeating and imbibing too much ale and wine. They’ll be out of control by the time All Hallows’ Eve dawns. Why Henry wanted to spend a whole month here is beyond me. A sennight has been enough.”

  Denis also leaned forward, untying the thong that bound his hair, letting it cascade down over his face. He scratched his scalp vigorously, then tossed his head back. “I long for a good bath. Bathing in the Arun is all well and good, but my body tends to draw unwelcome eyes.”

  Adam wrinkled his nose. “Imagine how the ladies feel. There is no privacy. Most of the women are avoiding the river, preferring to douse themselves with sickly perfumes. Turns my belly.”

  Denis smiled. “Not like my sweet smelling Paulina, who complains she will soon run out of the rosewater she brought.”

  Adam arched his brows. “She’ll have to borrow some of Rosa’s rosemary. Fortunately, it grows wild here, so she’s been able to keep a good supply. I love the scent of it on her.”

  Denis came to his feet. “Dieu! We’re a pair of lovesick fools. I’m amazed you can stand the smell of rosemary. I almost choked on it when you were sick in the infirmary.”

  Adam slapped his forehead. “Now I remember! Shows what love can do to a man! I crave the aroma now.”

  Denis frowned, retying his thong. “Do you love Rosa? Forgive me, but I worry sometimes that I want Paulina only because she is my height, and you want Rosamunda because she is mute.”

  Adam hesitated. “I have pondered the same thing. I have also worried they feel drawn to us because you are a dwarf and I am deaf. But I trust her. She has accepted more than my deafness.”

  Denis threw his head back, scratching the hollow of his throat. “I ha
ve evaded the lice, but there are many here not as fortunate. I’m constantly itchy. Another reason to stay cooped up.”

  Adam scratched his neck. “You’re in love with Paulina, but not because she’s tiny.”

  Denis shrugged. “You’re right. We need to get out of here. Lucky for Vincent and Lucien the King allowed them to go back to Kingston Gorse.”

  Adam agreed. “Just as well. Even with the labourers Father sent from Belisle, they’ll be hard pressed to get the house repaired and thatched before winter sets in.”

  Denis scratched one armpit. “I cannot stand this any longer. I’m off to the river.”

  Adam retrieved two linen drying cloths, throwing one at Denis. “I’ll join you.”

  ~~~

  Paulina patted rosewater on her neck, sniffing her underarms. “Come away, Rosa. They will see you spying. I swear, being cooped up in this pavilion is worse than the attic at home. At least there we could bathe. Let them go. They are fortunate they can go to the river. Men do not suffer from our need for privacy.”

  Topaz lay asleep in her lap, purring contentedly. She stroked the tip of a twitching ear, but the kitten did not waken.

  Fear for her pet lay like a lead weight in her belly. “I wish I could sleep peacefully, like a cat, unaware of the dangers. Denis has dismissed the tales of horror of All Hallows’ Eve, but I have seen the malicious glint in the eyes of some queuing at the tables when they espy her in my satchel. I wish I had heeded Adam’s advice and left her at East Preston.”

  Rosamunda shrugged. “Home.”

  Paulina rubbed her chin. “I feared for her in the ruins of Kingston Gorse.”

  They sat in silence, listening to the purring. Paulina fidgeted, nervous her movements would dislodge the cat, robbing her of the warmth of its little body on her thighs. “How long does Vincent say the repairs will take?”