A Knight’s Kiss
A Medieval Novella
Lana Williams
Second chances have never been so sweet.
Book 1.5 of The Vengeance Trilogy
Sir Hugh is a knight on a vital mission to halt a murderous plot with no time for distractions.
Liza is known far and wide for brewing fine ale but is faced with unbearable choices when both her sister and her livelihood are threatened. Widowed following a brutal marriage, Liza trusts no man, yet the kindness of this strong knight and the passion he awakens in her tempt her to reconsider.
Having loved and lost, Hugh has no desire to risk his heart again but needs Liza’s help to fulfill his mission. Together, these two wounded souls must trust themselves and each other to foil a plot against the king and claim their second chance at love.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
England, 1249
Sir Hugh wondered for the tenth time what he’d gotten himself into as the gate to the city appeared on the horizon. The bustling market center in Lincolnshire sat on a bend of the River Welland. A church spire rose above the city wall in the distance. Fields of wheat, barley, and oats crisscrossed the landscape, some cut, others still waiting for their turn to be harvested.
The scene was quite charming if one ignored that this place might be a source of treason against the king.
“Ermine is busier than I expected,” Sir Matthew said as he rode beside Hugh. “Larger as well.”
“Must be market day.” Hugh eyed the throng at the gate. “People are both leaving and entering to find a safe place to rest before night falls. The guards seem to be questioning everyone passing through.”
Hugh sighed. This mission was not his idea and in all honesty, he doubted his ability to bring it to a successful conclusion. He glanced at the heavy, double-bladed axe tied to his saddle. Give him a clear target and he could easily land a death blow, but pretending to be something he wasn’t made him nervous. His friend, Royce, was much better at these missions as he’d proven by defeating his own uncle, Lord Tegmont.
Following Tegmont’s movements had caused him and Royce to stumble upon a small group of barons planning an uprising against King Henry. While the barons, including Tegmont, had every right to be displeased with the king for granting far too many favors to foreigners, allowing England to be torn apart by civil war made it vulnerable to enemies. That couldn’t be permitted.
Recently married to Lady Alyna and serving as father to her young son, not to mention rebuilding his newly reclaimed holding, Royce had his hands full. That left Hugh to investigate Lord Stanwick at the behest of their overlord, Lord Pimbroke.
The traitorous barons couldn’t be confronted directly. After all, Royce and Hugh had no real evidence, other than knowing that Lord Tegmont had called upon Stanwick in this very city several times. Instead, Hugh’s goal was to find evidence to prove that Lord Stanwick was involved in plans to overthrow the king and put an end to whatever method they were using to communicate with each other. If an opportunity arose that allowed him to warn Stanwick that his movements were being watched, all the better. Pimbroke’s hope was that a warning would be enough to force the barons to disband their plans.
Certainly. No problem. Hugh scoffed at the impossible task before him.
“Where do we begin our search?” Matthew asked.
The young knight also served Royce and provided Hugh with another set of eyes and ears. Matthew had proven his toughness and trustworthiness more than once in the time Hugh had known him.
But no one could replace Royce as Hugh’s friend. Already Hugh missed him. Watching Royce and Alyna day after day and their obvious love for each other made Hugh twitchy. Not that he wanted anything like that for himself. Hell no. It had been time to leave Larkspur, at least for a few days, and this had been as good a reason as any.
Hugh pondered Matthew’s question for a moment. “What’s the first thing people want after a long, hard day of working or traveling?”
“A drink and a hot meal.”
“Aye. Let us find the alehouse. We’ll see what the townspeople have to say about their lord.”
In short order, they’d made it past the guards, through the gate, and were riding along the cobbled street. A query to a passerby directed them to the stables where they left their horses.
“I’ve an extra coin if you take special care when you groom and feed our horses,” Hugh offered the stable boy.
The lad nodded enthusiastically as they untied their belongings from their saddles.
“Can you give us directions to the best alehouse in the city?” Hugh flipped the coin in the air and the boy caught it deftly and pointed them down the street.
Dusk had fallen in full as they arrived at the large thatch-roofed two-story structure made of wattle and daub. Light glowed in the windows, welcoming them. The crowd gathered there attested to its popularity. The door swung open, revealing the dim, smoky interior. The scent of roasting meat made Hugh’s stomach grumble.
He smiled and nodded at Matthew, feeling better already. “Nothing like food in a man’s belly to improve his mood.”
“So you’ve told me many times, and I’ve never once disagreed,” Matthew said with a chuckle.
They paused in the doorway a moment to allow their eyes to adjust to the dimness, then wound their way through the large, noisy area to a table in the rear corner. Hugh chose a bench that allowed his back to rest against the wall, providing a good view of the occupants. A fire burned in the massive hearth in the center of the room and rush lights along the walls cast a warm glow in the hazy room. The crowd was boisterous, voices and laughter ringing through the air.
A serving maid swung by, a wide smile on her pretty face. “What can I fetch for you, good sirs?”
“Two cups, a flagon of your finest ale and some of that meat I smell,” Hugh said.
With a nod at Hugh then a wink at Matthew that had him blushing, the maid moved on to the next table.
Soon they had drinks and food before them. A trencher of day old bread held the roasted meat and drippings. Hugh sniffed the offering appreciatively and dug into his meal. Matthew did the same.
“Almost as good as at home, eh, Matthew?”
“Nearly so, but don’t tell Lady Alyna. I’ll deny it to hell and back,” Matthew declared around a mouthful of food. “Sir Royce is a lucky man, is he not?”
“He’s Lord Royce now. And lucky he is.” Hugh acknowledged the pang of envy he felt for his friend’s new life. “A loving wife, a fine son, and a place to call home. A man couldn’t ask for more.”
“Why have you never married?”
“I was once. Long ago.” A familiar ache passed through him. He’d married young and lost her soon after. Perhaps that was why watching Royce and Alyna together was bittersweet.
“Really?” Matthew swallowed his food and held Hugh’s gaze. “She died?” At Hugh’s nod, he asked, “Is it true? Is it better to have experienced love even if you lose it rather than never have had the chance?”
“No.” He rubbed his chest at the pain there. “It hurt like hell when she died. I don’t see how I’m better off for having lived through that.” In fact, he intended to make certain he never repeated it. That sort of heartache was nothing he wished to endure again. It had taken nearly two summers for him to recover, to remember how to laugh and enjoy life after his wife’s u
nexpected death.
Ready to change the subject, Hugh took a drink, hoping the ale wouldn’t be too bitter or worse, watered down. But the golden ale tasted perfectly brewed and held a hint of fruit. “Fine tasting ale. No wonder this place is nearly full to the brim. Keep your ears open, Matthew.”
They ate, watched, and listened. The patrons ranged from knights to villagers, families and soldiers, travelers and local merchants. Ermine’s position on the river created an ideal location for both buyers and sellers, and a market was being held this sennight.
From what Hugh overheard, people from far and wide brought their wares here to sell and came with money to buy. While extra people in the city would cover their own activities more easily, the busyness might also make it more difficult to gather information.
Serving maids weaved through the tables, refilling cups as needed and delivering meals. Most seemed in good spirits. Complaints were few and nothing more than what might be heard at home.
An attractive woman near the fire caught Hugh’s eye. She watched the room carefully, directing the serving maids on occasion to ensure no customer was overlooked. Her dark hair was braided and coiled onto the back of her head. Large brown eyes were accented by the arch of her brow and the curve of her cheekbones. Full, lush lips threatened to distract him from his purpose here. He guessed her to be close to his own age of five and thirty by the confident way she carried herself. Mayhap she and her husband owned the alehouse. But as he searched for a man, he found no one who acted in such a capacity.
His curiosity caught, Hugh continued to watch her. Her slim figure was rounded in all the right places, he noted as she bent to lift a pitcher from a low shelf then filled it from a wooden barrel.
“Have your eye on a woman already, Hugh?” Matthew asked with a smile. “We’ve only just arrived.”
Embarrassed to have been caught staring, Hugh shifted on the bench. “I’m merely trying to determine who the owner of the alehouse is. They might be able to answer some of our questions.”
“Sure.” Matthew gave him a friendly punch on the arm. “Want me to question the serving maid?” He wiggled his brows up and down.
“Excellent idea.” The younger man looked taken aback that Hugh agreed with his suggestion. “The sooner we learn all we can, the sooner we can accomplish our mission and return to Larkspur.”
Matthew’s cheeks turned bright red as the maid returned.
“Another flagon of ale for you?” she asked.
Hugh waited, wondering if Matthew could find his tongue.
“Ah. Well. That is to say…” Matthew sent him a desperate look, and Hugh had to hide his smile.
“Indeed we would.” Hugh drained his cup as the maid picked up the empty flagon. “My compliments to the alemaker.”
“I’ll be certain to tell her.”
“Is that her over there?” Hugh nodded toward the woman he’d been watching.
“Answering questions from strangers takes time away from my duties.” She held out her hand, palm up.
Matthew stared at it, a frown marring his brow as though he didn’t understand her gesture.
Hugh held up a coin. “And your time is valuable. What more can you tell us?”
“Aye, she’s the alewife. What else do you want to know?” she asked warily as she eyed the coin.
“Where is her husband?”
“Dead and gone. Good riddance, we all say.” She nabbed the coin out of Hugh’s fingers. “I’m called Elsie, and I’d be pleased to answer more questions if you have any.”
Hugh watched her swing her way around the tables, well aware of the exaggerated sway of her hips. Matthew seemed mesmerized by her exit until she looked over her shoulder at him and winked, turning his face bright red. Again.
“Why would you bother asking about the alewife?” Matthew asked. “Why not ask about Stanwick?”
“Asking about the lord would draw too much attention. The alewife might be a good source for us. Many people come in and out of this place; she must hear things.” That was surely the reason he’d asked, though in truth, the question had popped out before he could stop it. Something about her caught his interest.
“I’m still not understanding what we’re listening for.”
“Therein lies the challenge of our task, Matthew.” Doubt filled Hugh once again. How could they uncover evidence of treason and put a halt to their communication methods without endangering themselves? “We walk a fine line here, and we don’t want it to snap beneath our feet.”
Liza put a hand to the small of her back, the ache there reminding her how long it had been since she’d last sat. Market days were busy ones and some of the most profitable. Rest would have to wait until her customers had left for the night.
This batch of ale had been a particularly good one if she did say so herself. A combination of the right ingredients, correct measurements, and proper brewing technique had created a smooth, refreshing drink.
In anticipation of a crowd for the market days, she’d brewed extra and was pleased she had. Three barrels had been delivered to the keep for the lord’s table, two to the inn down the street, two to the monastery, and the rest she’d kept to serve here at the alehouse.
Elsie, one of the serving maids, approached and held up a coin as she smiled. “One of our patrons is full of questions and is willing to pay for answers.”
“Oh? Which one?”
Elsie tipped her head toward the knights Liza had noticed earlier. “The big blond one with the twinkling blue eyes and the shoulders as wide as an ox cart.”
Liza smiled at Elsie’s description. She had to admit she’d noticed him the moment he’d walked in the door. Who could miss someone so fit and handsome? Blond hair shorn close to his head, even features with a nose that matched a Roman statue she’d once seen, and blue eyes that made you smile just by looking at them combined to make an arresting sight. Not to mention those broad shoulders and a thick chest that made him look as if he could handle any problem the world presented. Another glance at him had her sighing in appreciation.
“What sort of questions did he have?” Liza asked as Elsie filled a flagon of ale from the barrel, her movements quick and sure. The girl was one of her best servers.
“He asked about you.”
Liza nearly dropped the pitcher she held. “Me?”
“Wanted to know if you were married.”
“Truly?” Heat stole through her at the thought of him noticing her let alone asking about her.
“Why would that come as a surprise?” Elsie asked with a shrug. “You’re an attractive woman still of age.”
“Of age for what? I’m a widow and far too busy for a man.” She’d be eternally grateful for the skills she’d learned for brewing ale, for they allowed her to keep her independence. Most widows were forced to remarry in order to keep a roof over their head and food on the table.
She would never marry again. Ever.
Her marriage had been painful in every sense of the word. Her husband had had a heavy hand accompanied by demeaning, brutal words and had used both far too often. Thank heaven they’d never had children he could have mistreated as well.
The idea of giving a man that kind of power over her again made her ill. She’d learn not to trust any of them. If only she could convince her younger sister, Melissande, of that. The girl served Lord Stanwick at the keep despite Liza’s pleas that she remain at the alehouse. But serving the patrons here hadn’t appealed to her. She’d charmed her way to serving the lord instead.
Circumstances were not what they seemed at the lord’s keep. His servants frequented her alehouse, and Liza had learned more than she cared to about Lord Stanwick’s activities. She had intended to stay as far away from the lord as possible but now that Melissande worked there, that was not so easy.
“Don’t tell him anything more, Elsie. Questions of any sort are not welcome here.”
The maid nodded reluctantly. “Very well. Mayhap I can earn a coin or two some othe
r way.” She gave Liza a broad grin that had Liza shaking her head.
If Elsie chose to spend her time on her back with one of the knights after the alehouse closed, so be it. Never mind the displeasure that filled her at the thought of the big blond knight and Elsie together. It was none of her business.
Liza delivered the pitcher she’d filled to a table, greeting the local villagers as she went, pausing to speak to several as she made sure all had their fill of food and drink. “How’s your foot, Samuel?”
“Still giving me fits.” The old man shook his head in disgust.
“You should pay a visit to Avin in the morn and see if she has some comfrey to aid you.”
“Excellent notion.”
Liza smiled and ruffled the hair of Samuel’s youngest grandson, having seen all of four summers. “How are you this fine evening, Peter?”
His big brown eyes looked up at her beneath long lashes and his shy smile tugged at her heart. Something about this little boy made her regret she’d never had children of her own.
She worked her way around the room, directing the maids to refill empty pitchers when needed. To prove to herself that she had no interest in the knight sitting in the back, she approached their table.
They both rose from their seats to greet her, taking her aback. Such fine manners were rarely displayed in her alehouse. She quickly gestured for them to take their seats. “Is everything to your liking?” she asked.
“Indeed it is. My compliments to you on the ale,” the large knight said, his blue eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her nervous. “’Tis the best I’ve tasted in some time.”
“Thank you. I’m pleased to hear it.” Pleasure stole over her at his compliment. Brewing ale was something she worked very hard at. Her knowledge had come over time and much practice. Her skill provided her with a living, and she took great pride in it.
“Good food. Good ale. You must do a thriving business.” The respect in his eyes helped to settle her nerves.
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