Jaclyn lifted her hand and touched his cheek. Her heart ached for him. All this time she had thought she couldn’t trust him, when he was the only man she could trust!
Alexander pulled away. “Stop looking at me like that. My honor dictates that I tend your wound.”
“I can do it.”
“I want to do it.”
Jaclyn sat back, relinquishing her arm to his care. She watched him look it over and then carefully rewrap it. “I’m glad you came back.”
Alexander smiled. “As am I.”
The sun was rising as they made their way back to the castle. Jaclyn held Alexander’s hand tightly, the future looked bright with promise. She smiled at him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, to pull her to him and kiss her lips.
Not a word more needed to be said. He was everything she had ever dreamt of.
Raised voices rose in the distance. Jaclyn slowed her walk as tingles of trepidation danced up her spine. The field they were in was silent, no crickets chirping, no birds singing. Only a low rumble of noise from inside the castle could be heard. Jaclyn dropped Alexander’s hand. She started forward slowly, tentatively, as if listening to the words, even though they were much too far away to hear. The closer they got, the more pronounced the shouting became.
Jaclyn picked up her skirts and raced across the field. She rounded the drawbridge and hurried into the outer ward. Through the open barbican she could see the inner ward was crowded with people.
Alexander passed her, taking her hand to lead her to the inner ward. They stopped just inside the gatehouse. Peasants and villagers lined the inner ward, filling the open space. The sunrise splashed the keep in a bright red. On the stair of the open keep Blaise stood, his hand wrapped around Paul’s arm. He shook him once and said something to him, but Jaclyn couldn’t hear what it was.
Outrage flared through her and she rushed forward, pushing her way through the peasants. They easily stepped aside for her. As she neared, she could see one of Paul’s eyes was blackened.
She raced up to Blaise and shoved him. “Get your hands off of my brother.”
Blaise released him and Paul fell to the ground.
Jaclyn knelt at Paul’s side.
“I’m sorry, Jacie,” Paul whispered, boosting himself onto his elbows.
She stroked his bruised face before whirling on Blaise. “How dare you? We welcomed you into our castle as a guest!”
“He is a fraud. He is not the Mistletoe Knight,” Blaise accused, pointing a finger at her brother.
For the first time, Jaclyn noticed the other competitors standing behind Blaise. She had no choice but to keep up the facade. “Of course he is.”
“No!” Brickenden shouted. “The knight I jousted against was injured! I saw it with my own eyes.” He pointed at Paul. “He has no mark on him.”
Jaclyn glanced over her shoulder at Paul to see his tunic was ripped and his shoulder exposed.
“He knew nothing about the injury,” Blaise said. “He is not the Mistletoe Knight.”
The first inkling of fear festered inside of Jaclyn. She didn’t like the way Blaise’s jaw twitched. She looked at Paul again, locking eyes with him. She had no answer. Not for him, not for the knights. Their game was over. “I shall question Paul and find out what is going on.”
“With all due respect, m’lady,” Blaise said. “I know exactly what is going on.”
Jaclyn looked back at Blaise. Her heart was hammering in her chest. He couldn’t know, she told herself. But she knew it was a lie.
“Paul is incompetent. He couldn’t mount a horse, much less control it enough to joust or hold a lance.”
Paul struggled to his feet, protesting, “I can hold a lance!”
Alexander reached out to steady Paul as he almost tripped over his own feet.
“If he cannot hold a lance, then that leaves one question,” Blaise said, stepping toward Paul. He slapped a hand on his shoulder. Paul winced. Blaise looked back at Jaclyn. “The Mistletoe Knight was injured in a pass with Brickenden. Paul has no injury.” Blaise’s shrewd gaze locked on her. “Who else could have taken Paul’s place? Who else could have been the Mistletoe Knight?”
Jaclyn’s gaze swept the faces around her, studying the countenances of all the knights who had competed in her tournament, all the knights who had given coin to enter.
“I’m sorry, Jacie,” Paul repeated.
Blaise laid a hand on Jaclyn’s shoulder and leaned in close. “He told me.”
Panic and disbelief flooded through Jaclyn. She glanced at Paul who was looking at the ground, swaying back and forth. “You can’t very well blame me,” he mumbled. “I wanted to do it. You wouldn’t let me.”
The dagger twisted in her heart. After all this time of protecting him so that father wouldn’t marry him off out of embarrassment, he saw this as her fault. She supposed it was. If only she had told him no from the beginning. If only she had refused to take his place in the joust years ago. But he begged her. And she had to help him. He was her brother.
Blaise looked at her. “You are the Mistletoe Knight.”
Jaclyn began to shake her head, fear and desperation rising inside of her.
Blaise tightened his fingers on her shoulder until pain speared through her arm and she winced.
Everything erupted in chaos. Alexander crashed into Blaise, pushing him back into the wall, snarling, “Get your hand off of her.”
Cries erupted from the gathered knights. “Scandal!” “A woman!” “I demand my coin back!” “What type of tournament is this?”
Somewhere off to her side, she could hear the sound of swords being drawn. Her hazy mind wouldn’t focus. Tears rose to obscure her vision. It was all over. It was in ruins.
It was all over. All in ruins. Jaclyn sat before the hearth in the Great Hall. To ensure peace, Jaclyn gave all the knights their entrance fees back, leaving the treasury depleted. They had departed the castle, leaving her and her family name in shame.
Jaclyn expected the castle guard to leave any day now. They knew she could not afford to pay them.
It was not going to be the Yuletide she had hoped for. It was supposed to be a grand day this year, a celebration to beat all celebrations. A castle full of knights. A victory for the Mistletoe Knight. A time with her family. A time for celebration and feasting.
But it hadn’t turned out like that.
Paul had left the castle, unable to look Jaclyn in the eye. He had snuck out in the middle of the night.
Jaclyn stared down at the log at her feet. She wondered if she should even bother saving a piece of the log for next year. She didn’t expect to be here, in Castle Fainwick, come the next Yuletide. How hard would it be for an invading army to overrun the castle with no guards?
She remembered the past Yuletides when her father was alive. They would all write things on the log they wished would be taken from them before they burned it. Her father had written loneliness on the log last Yuletide.
She stared down at the log. She couldn’t think of one thing she wanted to be taken from her. Not one. So much had already been taken.
Everyone had fled except the most loyal servants. Even Alexander had gone. And that hurt the most. He had left her. Even after everything they shared. Much like Paul, he had not even said goodbye.
She was so exhausted. She didn’t have the strength to even light the Yule log. What was the point? She boosted herself to her feet, staring at the Yule log for a long moment.
“Are you going to light that?”
She froze. Alexander? It must be a dream. Alexander had left her. She was afraid to turn. Afraid that the voice she heard was in her head.
“It’s not going to light itself.”
She slowly turned.
Alexander stood near the door. He pulled off a heavy bear’s pelt from his shoulders and shook it off. Small drops of water danced and reflected in the torchlight like small diamonds. He folded the pelt over his arm and his gaze settled on her.
&
nbsp; Surely, this was a dream. Because only in her dreams would he return. She didn’t want to speak for fear he would evaporate.
“This doesn’t look much like a celebration. That is the Yule log, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
He looked from the log to her. A play of emotions flitted across his face. Sympathy. Concern. Resolve. “Did you write my name on it?”
“Never,” she whispered. Sadness welled within her. Alexander was the only one left. “You came back.”
“Came back? I never left.”
“You left for years. You left me alone when my father died.”
“I will never regret anything more. But I had to finish the jousts.”
She nodded and turned away from him to stare at the log. “They were always important to you. More so than most anything else.”
“Jaclyn,” Alexander pleaded. “They were my path back.” He laughed softly. “I am quite good. Much more so than I let on. You see, it is all a game, Jacie. A game I intended to win.”
“I hate games,” she whispered.
“I’d hoped you might enjoy this one.” He stepped closer to her. “I had nothing to offer. I was poor. You know that.”
“You’ve always had your looks.”
“I’m pleased to hear you say that.”
He was so close that she could feel the heat from his body. “That you had looks?”
“That you noticed my looks. But they were not something I could live off of. Did you know that even a man who does not win a tournament can come away wealthy? I can’t tell you how many suits of armor I have or horses.”
Jaclyn turned to him. “What are you saying?”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth about the Mistletoe Knight earlier? I could have helped you.”
She scowled fiercely. “I didn’t want to involve you. If you didn’t know about it, you were not guilty.”
“You were protecting me?” There was surprise in his voice.
“I was afraid you would try to stop me.”
His laughter rang through the hall. “I’ve learned long ago that no one can stop you. Not your father, not Paul, not me.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Coin stopped me. Or lack thereof. The treasury is depleted. I expect the castle guard to abandon their posts any day now as I cannot pay them. Everyone has gone. No one would want to be lord of this castle.” When he didn’t respond, she looked up at him.
Alexander was smiling.
“You think it’s funny?” she asked in disbelief.
“I think it’s funny that you believe that. I told you that I was rather good at jousting. Games are, after all, my strong point.”
Jaclyn frowned.
“The castle guard will not abandon their posts. They have been well paid.”
“How…? How did you…?”
He smiled. “I won. I won a lot of jousts. Well, I suppose D’Sayre won more times than me. But I won enough to take ransoms and sell horses.” His grin was wolfish. “I won enough times to become wealthy. And to save you.”
Her mouth dropped slightly.
“I know these lands, Jaclyn. We can make them profitable. We won’t have to worry.”
“We?” she asked, afraid to hope. Afraid. His smile made her knees tremble.
“I didn’t return for your tournament. I came back for you.”
Jaclyn stared. His lips had moved, but had she heard his words correctly? Or were they figments of her imagination? “Me?”
“You always said that the Mistletoe Knight was your favored knight. Not once did you grant me your favor.”
“You’ve always had my favor. Every day, every moment. I wished of you often.”
“Wished?”
“Wished you would return. Imagined you came back for me. But every time I heard one of the knights speaking of you, it was of you and one of your women.”
He shrugged, but stepped closer. “Surely much overstated.”
“How could I hope to compete with all of your other…women?”
“Compete? There was never anything for you to compete with. They cannot compare to you.” He brushed a strand of hair from her shoulder, his hungry gaze moving over her face.
Her heart soared with hope. “You mock me.”
He took her face into his hands. “Never, my love. There has never been anyone but you. I came back for you. I entered the tournament to win your hand.” His lips drew closer to hers.
Still, she couldn’t believe it. She shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it was important to you to be able to pick your own husband.”
Jaclyn’s gaze swept his face as he drew closer and gently ran his lips against hers. It took her a moment to realize what he was asking. Did she want him to be her husband? She did. More than anything! “I’ve never loved anyone but you, Alexander!”
He reached inside his tunic and pulled something out and held in his fist. He opened his fingers. In the center of his palm was a shriveled, beaten, browned leaf.
Gingerly, Jaclyn picked it up. She inspected it in confusion. Then, memory returned. “Is it…?”
Alexander smiled.
“The leaf I gave you long ago?”
Alexander nodded. “I’ve kept it with me all this time. It brought me good fortune. And it brought me back to you.” He took the leaf back from her, treating it gently as if it were a precious treasure.
Jaclyn threw her arms around his neck as joy exploded inside of her. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips.
“I’m happy to hear you say that. Because I won. I beat D’Sayre.”
Jaclyn’s mouth dropped. “You’re the champion,” she whispered.
“Only if you’ll have me.”
“Shall we light this Yule log?” a voice from behind them asked.
Jaclyn turned. Paul stood in the doorway, the servants and household all around him.
“I found him moping around the stables,” Alexander said. “I went to search for him. I knew your Yuletide wouldn’t be complete unless I could find him.”
Jaclyn’s heart melted. She didn’t know whether to kiss Alexander again or run to Paul. She laid a grateful hand on Alexander’s cheek, promising to kiss him fully later, and rushed to Paul.
“Jacie,” he whispered, shucking his head. “I’m so sorry…”
She launched herself into his arms. “It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re saved.”
Paul embraced her tightly.
The servants swarmed past them into the Great Hall.
Alexander stepped up to Jaclyn’s side as Donna took Paul’s hand and led him to the hearth where they were placing the Yule log.
Alexander crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you see. I won this game.”
Jaclyn’s gaze swept the room full of happy people. She noticed for the first time in a long time that Paul did not have an ale in his hand and smiled gently. She looked up at Alexander, delight filling her. “I think we both did,” she admitted.
Alexander pulled her against him, holding her in his arms. He looked at the small leaf in his hand, the mistletoe leaf. “This must have magic.”
Jaclyn nodded in agreement. “Father said it was so.”
He lifted the mistletoe above his head. “If this leaf is magical, then you must kiss me.”
Jaclyn narrowed her eyes, but leaned in closer to him. “Is this another one of your games?”
He looked down at her, his gaze tenderly, lovingly sweeping her face. “Do you like it? I think it might catch on.”
“Yes. I think it just might.” Jaclyn leaned in to kiss his lips.
Thank you so much for reading the magical tale of Jaclyn and Alexander’s love. I hope you enjoyed this special seasonal novella! I hope it brought a smile to your lips.
Mistletoe holds a special place in the season as well as in my story. It has always been associated with a kiss. I hope you will continue Alexander’s game and do a little kissing of your own beneath the mistletoe this holiday seas
on.
Again, thank you for reading!
Please drop me a line and let me know what you thought!
Laurel O’Donnell lives in Illinois with her husband, four children and five cats. She has always enjoyed escaping into the medieval era, including spending a summer interning at the renaissance faire in Wisconsin where she learned to sword fight and recite Shakespeare. Now, she spends her time reading a good book, watching Sam and Dean battle evil in Supernatural, or working on her next novel…
Laurel is the author of numerous medieval romance novels, a medieval romance novella, a vampire romance novel and an urban fantasy series. You can find the full list of her available titles here.
Reviews for Laurel O’Donnell books “It’s quickly become one of my favorite books and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for romance and action.”
—Sony ReaderStore review on A Knight of Honor
Wow!!! I can breathe again. Great story. What a great read. I fell in love with the characters Slane and Taylor …. even loved the minor character Jared. This is a well written action romance with a lot of action and a lot of romance. Laurel O’Donnell is turning out to be a great author. No lazy half plots or hurried endings. She takes her time but does not overdo or drag out the details. I like the pace and content of her stories. This is a must read. Ten stars.
—Barnes and Noble Review for A Knight of Honor
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“This extraordinary tale offers non-stop action, unforgettable characters and a sensuous romance, the likes of which ballads are written. This romance will capture your heart and your imagination.”
—Rendezvous Magazine on The Angel and the Prince
“My most beloved rainy day book.”
—Amazon review on The Angel and the Prince “One of my favorite historical romances of all time.”
—Goodreads review on The Angel and the Prince
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“I really enjoyed this exciting medieval love story. Solace and Logan, what a pair of mixed up, brave confused young adults, living in the harsh medieval world, where relatives were vengeful and self-serving, but friends were loyal. I also loved the very light mystical thread throughout the story with the Falcon. In this medieval period some writers have gone for `shock value’ with graphic details on warfare, sex, misery and the cruelty, however I believe Laurel O’Donnell got the balance right, because as I was reading this novel I was `booing’ the bad ones and `cheering’ on the goodies. Justice is always a winner to me. I would reread this book again.”
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