Knight of Passion

by Margaret Mallory

  “I should have helped you set things right before.” Jamie looked away, clenching his jaw, then brought his gaze back to her. “I will do whatever you ask to remedy it now.”

  “What could I have you do?” She gave him a soft smile. “Take away Lily and Rose’s house? Ruin Mistress Leggett’s trade? Malign the good mayor’s character? They are innocents. Even if they profited from the wrong, it would give me no satisfaction to punish them.”

  Jamie pressed his lips together and nodded. “Brokely is dying, so we shall have to leave him to make his accounting to God. The mayor, however, has offered to make whatever compensation you think just for what his father-in-law did.”

  Linnet shook her head. “There is nothing I want from the mayor.”

  She thought of how her enemies had joined forces against her and covered her face with her hands. “How did Brokely and Pomeroy find each other?”

  Jamie gently pulled one hand free and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Most likely it was the alderman, as he was both a member of the coven and party to the merchant conspiracy.” He paused, then said, “Yet I suspect Eleanor Cobham played some part in bringing them together. She knew Pomeroy through Gloucester, and she is closely tied to Margery Jourdemayne.”

  “I cannot prove it, but I believe Eleanor and that priest of hers are involved with this sorcery,” Linnet said, and then she told him about Father Hume’s warning to leave for France. “Eleanor must have disagreed with Pomeroy’s plan to kidnap me out of fear it would go wrong and expose her.”

  Jamie poured another bucket of steaming water into the tub and began to rub her calf.

  “What will happen to the alderman and Margery?” she asked.

  “They and the others who are caught will be held in royal custody at Windsor,” he said. “It does not seem near enough.”

  “I hope you do not feel you must gouge out the alderman’s eyes and slit his throat,” she said, attempting a smile. “He is too pathetic to be worth the trouble.”

  “I would do it if it would help you forget what happened tonight,” he said. “I would kill them all for you.”

  “I’ve wasted too many years seeking revenge,” she said. “Vengeance will not satisfy me.”

  “What then?” he asked, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “Whatever it is, I will do it.”

  “If I promise to be a staid wife who never causes you trouble or worry, will you marry me?”

  He shook his head. “The only woman I shall marry is the wild and troublesome one I’ve loved since she was a girl.”

  She got up on her knees and embraced him, soaking his shirt. She tasted the salt of her tears in the water that dripped down her face.

  “I shall try not to vex you so much in the future,” she said into his neck.

  “My family will be gravely disappointed if you do not,” he said. “They fear that without you to prod me, I am bound to grow dull and tedious.”

  “You shall never be that,” she said.

  “Since I don’t expect you to change…” He leaned back and pulled a pendant on a silver chain from the pouch at his belt. “I want you to wear this again. I’ve mended the chain.”

  She swallowed against the well of emotion that closed her throat and made her eyes sting. It was the medal of Saint George he had given her before.

  “I found it on the ground near Saint Stephen’s Chapel,” he said as he slipped it over her head. “An angel must have guided my footsteps.”

  Jamie always had the angels on his side.

  “After we go to Hertford and see Owen and Queen Katherine married, I’d like to take you to Northumberland to meet my new uncle and his wife. If you like Northumberland, we will make our home there.”

  “Wherever you are shall be my home.”

  Jamie wrapped a towel around her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I will stand between you and any threat of harm, and I shall be at your side in times of joy and sorrow.”

  She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek as he kissed her. “Now ’tis time for you to rest.”

  Linnet wiped her teary face on the towel. “You asked what you could do to make me forget what happened.”

  “Anything.”

  “Then take me to bed,” she said. “Give me a child.” He made love to her slowly, with a tenderness he had not shown her since their days in Paris. With every touch, he made her feel she was precious to him. There would always be times when their passion would run hot and urgent, but this sweet tenderness was what she needed now.

  Afterward, she lay in the arms of the man who would be her ballast in stormy seas and her shelter in times of trouble.

  “Tell me a tale of one of your victories,” she murmured against his chest.

  As Jamie told his tale, she imagined him in his graceful warrior’s dance, swinging high and low with his sword, the strongest and most handsome knight on the field.

  Dawn was bright in the window as she drifted off to sleep, her heart at peace at last.

  Epilogue

  Northumberland

  1431

  When Jamie crested the hill and saw the square keep that once belonged to Charles Wheaton, contentment spread through him like warm honey. Tenants working in a distant field waved a welcome to their lord returned from France.

  “A new babe, I see,” he said to a young mother who smiled and bowed to him as he passed her cottage.

  Jamie took in the fresh whitewash and new thatch. He had married an industrious merchant wife, and their estates prospered. Of course, he would have to spend the next fortnight calming his tenants. While they were fond of his wife, they did not always take well to her attempts to change how they did their work. If their fathers had done something a certain way, that was good enough for them—but not for Linnet.

  Linnet must have had the men watching for him, for she and the children were waiting at the gate to meet him. As always, his breath caught at the sight of her. Sometimes he still could not believe his good fortune. To him, she seemed more beautiful each time he returned home.

  As soon as he dismounted, she flew into his arms. He held her against him and, for the moment, ignored the little hands that pulled at his leggings.

  “I am home for good,” he said next to her ear. “I shan’t go to France again.”

  He turned and rubbed his son’s head. “Have you been taking good care of the womenfolk, John Alan?”

  John Alan nodded with such a weary expression on his four-year-old face that Jamie had to laugh.

  When his daughter Annie held her arms out for him to carry her, something inside him shifted. With her mother’s fair looks and headstrong nature, this one was bound to cause a father heartache. Annie shrieked with pleasure as he lifted her onto his shoulders.

  “Francois and Rose are well and send their love,” Jamie said as the four of them headed to the keep. “They will visit in the autumn and may stay in England through the winter. Things are… difficult in France. This business with Joan of Arc has left a sour taste in all our mouths.”

  The young woman’s courage and single-minded determination reminded Jamie too much of his wife for him not to admire her.

  “You have news from London as well?” Linnet asked. “Aye. The new Duchess of Gloucester is increasingly unpopular. ’Twas foolish of Gloucester to marry Eleanor, for she makes enemies at every turn.”

  Jamie only wished he had found proof of Eleanor’s connection to the sorcerers.

  Linnet patted his arm. “Eleanor will pay the piper one day.”

  They entered the hall, where a large cup of ale and a platter of cold meats and warm bread waited for him on the table. He made quick work of the meal, despite having a wiggling child on each knee.

  When he finished, he kissed his children and set them on their feet. “I have new stories for you, but I must talk alone with your mother now.”

  After their nursemaid had taken the children out, he set a packet of letters on the table. “Mistress Leggett sent these and said busin
ess is going well.”

  Mistress Leggett and her sons handled the day-today business of Linnet’s trade. While Linnet still visited London once or twice a year, she seemed more interested these days in managing the castle’s large household and estates.

  “And how is Lily?” Linnet smiled as she asked, for Lily was a favorite.

  “Poor Martin! Somehow, she got him to agree to bring her here after he visits his mother. He can face any man in combat, but he has yet to learn how to say nay to a female. If my sisters come as well, he’ll have no peace at all.”

  “Poor Martin, indeed.” Linnet did not sound sympathetic.

  “Lily says she wants to gather a special healing herb that grows north of here,” he said.

  Lily had surprised them all by apprenticing herself to the old herbalist.

  “I do hope they all come,” Linnet said, her face shining. After growing up with just her brother and grandfather, Linnet loved having extended family and friends about her.

  “Did you hear any whispers in London about the queen and Owen?” Linnet asked. When he shook his head, she laughed. “Surely, the Council must know about them by now? When last we visited, she was enormous with their second child.”

  “Humphrey and the Council either do not know or choose to pretend they do not,” he said. “Either way, let us pray they continue to ignore them.”

  Linnet put her hand over his on the table. “Shall I send word to Stephen and Isobel that you are home?”

  There was only one thing Jamie liked better than to sit and talk with his wife. He leaned forward to smell her skin and whisper in her ear. “Let me have you to myself for a time. I want to spend a week in bed with you.”

  “I hoped you would say that,” she said in a husky voice. “I missed my passionate knight.”

  “Come, love,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “I have been away far too long.”

  Historical Note

  Henry V’s widow, the French princess Katherine de Valois, had four or five children with Owen Tudor, her clerk of the wardrobe. Six hundred years later, many facts about their relationship are not clear—if they ever were. One story commonly told about them is that the queen fell for Owen after seeing him bathing naked. Another is that Owen caused a stir at court by falling into her lap while dancing.

  It is generally believed that Owen and the queen secretly married, though there is no record of it. I consolidated events a bit and set their marriage in 1426, when it probably took place closer to 1429.

  Prior to her relationship with Owen, the queen was rumored to have had a flirtation with Edmund Beaufort. This is probably what prompted Gloucester, the young king’s uncle, to persuade Parliament to prohibit the queen from marrying without permission.

  Despite the law, the queen and Owen lived in seclusion with their growing family at Hertford for several years. Their quiet life came to an end in 1436 when Owen was imprisoned on a charge of treason, probably at Gloucester’s instigation. Queen Katherine “retired” to Bermondsey Abbey, where she died after giving birth to their fourth or fifth child. Some say she died of heartbreak.

  The queen’s death marked a turning point in Gloucester’s influence over the king. Henry VI, now fifteen, ordered Owen released and elevated his Tudor half brothers, Edmund and Jasper, to earls. Owen lived until 1461, when he was executed as a Lancaster supporter in the War of the Roses.

  Owen and Katherine’s eldest son, Edmund Tudor, married Edmund Beaufort’s cousin Margaret. Margaret was already widowed when she gave birth—at the age of thirteen—to their son Henry. It was this child, the grandson of Henry V’s widow and her clerk of the wardrobe, who would later usurp the throne to become Henry VII and begin the Tudor dynasty.

  Eleanor Cobham, the daughter of a mere knight, became Gloucester’s mistress while serving as lady-in-waiting to his wife. After Gloucester’s first marriage was invalidated, she became his duchess. Once Gloucester’s older brother died, making Gloucester next in line to the throne, Eleanor could almost see the crown on her head. It appears she decided to act before the king married and begat an heir.

  In 1441, Eleanor Cobham was convicted of using sorcery and witchcraft against Henry VI, after one of her close associates, John Hume, turned informant. Eleanor admitted to witchcraft but denied the allegations of treason. For her penance, she was made to walk through London with a lit candle and then was imprisoned for life on the Isle of Man. Because Eleanor allegedly used sorcery to trick him into marrying her, Gloucester was conveniently “unmarried” a second time.

  Eleanor’s co-conspirators did not fare so well. Margery Jourdemayne, who had been imprisoned for sorcery once before, was burned as a relapsed heretic. Thomas Southwell, a cleric and physician, died in the Tower before a sentence could be carried out. Roger Bolingbroke, a cleric and well-known Oxford scholar, was hung, drawn and quartered; afterward, his head was displayed on London Bridge.

  As passion ignites and danger closes in, Catherine and William must learn to trust in each other or risk losing everything that truly matters to them…

  Please turn this page for an excerpt from

  Knight of Desire

  Book One in the

  All the King’s Men Series

  Available now

  Prologue

  “Tomorrow I am to be married.”

  The surge of disappointment in William’s chest caught him by surprise. Although he was told the castle was crowded because of a wedding, it had not occurred to him that this achingly lovely girl could be the bride.

  “I do not expect this will be a happy marriage for me,” she said, lifting her chin. “But tomorrow I will do what my father and my king require of me and wed this man. From that time forward, I will have to do as my husband bids and submit to him in all things.”

  William, of course, thought of the man taking her to bed and wondered if she truly understood all that her words implied.

  “Lady, I would save you from this marriage if I knew how.”

  He spoke in a rush, not expecting to say the foolish words that were in his heart. He was as good as any man with a sword, but he had no weapon to wield in this fight. Someday, he would be a man to be reckoned with, but as a landless knight, he could only put her at risk by interfering with the king’s plans.

  Impulsively, he reached out to trace the outline of her cheek. Before he knew what he was doing, he had her face cupped in his hands.

  Very softly, he brushed his lips against hers. At the first touch, a shot of lust ran through him, hitting him so hard he felt light-headed and weak in the knees. He pressed his mouth hard against hers. Dimly, through his raging desire, he was aware of the innocence of her kiss. He willed himself to keep his hands where they were and not give in to the overpowering urge to reach for her body.

  He broke the kiss and pulled her into his arms. Closing his eyes, he held her to him and waited for the thundering of his heart to subside. God have mercy! What had happened to him? This girl, who trusted him blindly, had no notion of the danger.

  Swallowing hard, he released her from his embrace. He could think of no words, could not speak at all. With deliberate care, he pulled her hood up and tucked her long hair inside it. Then he let his arms fall to his sides like heavy weights.

  “I did not want his to be my first kiss,” she said, as though she needed to explain why she had permitted it.

  She took a quick step forward and, rising on her tiptoes, lightly touched her lips to his. In another moment, she was running across the yard, clutching her cloak about her.

  For many years, William dreamed of that night. In his dreams, though, he held her in his arms by the river in the moonlight. In his dreams, he kissed the worry and fear from her face. In his dreams, he rescued her from her unhappy fate.

  In his dreams, she was his.

  THE DISH

  Where authors give you the inside scoop!

  From the desk of Margaret Mallory

  Dear Readers,

  Am I unkind? I mad
e Sir James Rayburn wait until the third book in my All the King’s Men trilogy to get his own story. First, as a toddler, he watched his mother find love with her KNIGHT OF DESIRE, William FitzAlan. Then, as a young squire, he played a supporting role to his uncle Stephen, the KNIGHT OF PLEASURE, in his quest for true love. And now, when I finally give this brave and honorable knight his own book, I let the girl he loves stomp on his heart in the prologue.

  After that unfortunate experience, all Jamie Rayburn wants—or so he says—is a virtuous wife who will keep a quiet, ordered home waiting for him while he is off fighting. Instead, I give him the bold and beautiful Linnet, whose determination to avenge her family is bound to provoke endless tumult and trouble. Worse, this heroine is the very lady who stomped on Jamie’s heart in his youth.

  Why would I do this to our gallant knight? After he has shown such patience, why not reward him with the sweet, undemanding heroine he requested? Although that heroine might prove to be a trifle dull, she would be content to gaze raptly at our hero as he told tales of his victories by the hearth.

  Truly, I meant to give Jamie a softer, easier woman. But when I tried to write Jamie’s story, Linnet decided she had to be there. And when Linnet sets her mind to something, believe me, it’s best not to stand in her way.

  Besides, Linnet was right. Who better to save Jamie from a staid and tedious life? No other woman stirs Jamie’s passion as she does. And what passion! If our handsome knight must contend with murderous plots, court intrigue, and a few sword-wielding sorcerers before he can win his heart’s desire, then so be it.

  I am sure Jamie forgives me. Our KNIGHT OF PASSION knows a happy ending is worth the wait—and it’s all the more satisfying if it doesn’t come easy.