Mara nodded in understanding, still thinking on their baggage. “I do not want to forget those packages,” she said as she took her daughters by the hand. “I spent a good deal of time making all of those items for the new baby. If we forget them, I shall be heartsick.”
Kirk was instructing his eldest son to remove the dog to the yard below, making sure the boy was heading down the stairs with the puppy before turning to his wife.
“The new baby has plenty of clothes, I am sure,” he said. “In fact, the last missive I had from Spencer said that the baby had more clothes than he did before he was even born.”
Mara was undeterred. “It is their first son,” she said. “Remember how you felt when Ryan was born? You wanted him to have the very best of everything.”
Kirk took the stairs with the baby in his arms, making sure to help his wife and daughters down behind him.
“He did have the best of everything,” he said flatly. “In fact, Ryan had more clothes than I did before he was even a month old. Why does a baby need so many clothes?”
Mara cocked a dark eyebrow. “This is not just any baby,” she said. “He is Michael Lionel Edward de Shera, heir to Anchorsholme Castle and the Bowland barony. You know that Micheline’s pregnancy was difficult. There is much to celebrate with my nephew’s arrival.”
Kirk eased up somewhat; he knew that Spencer and Micheline had suffered some disappointment prior to little Michael’s birth. A daughter, Amelia, was born not quite a year after they were married but Micheline had suffered two miscarriages before Michael was finally born. Aye, there was much to celebrate, even if his wife had gone overboard with all of the little garments she had made the child.
His wife. Kirk watched Mara as she came off the stairs, shepherding the children towards the entry of Wicklow’s mighty keep with her firm, confident manner. Even though he was lord of Wicklow Castle now, maintaining the Irish lands for Micheline and her husband, the best part of it was Mara. He could lose everything but as long as he still had her and their children, he was a rich man indeed. He adored her more than words could express.
Life over the past few years had been rich and eventful. The wickedness that had once been the Darkland was now transformed into something strong and respectable, and the dark whispers that used to follow them around no longer existed. Micheline and Spencer had seen to that, and a new generation was being born, a generation that would carry on the new tradition of Anchorsholme Castle and her benevolent lords.
When Kirk had first spied that dark-haired lass hanging from the battlements of Haslingden those years ago, never could he have imagined what that hellion of a woman would come to mean to him. The trials, tribulations, and fears that they had gone through in order to achieve their paradise had been difficult but worth the struggle. Kirk couldn’t even remember those chaotic days any longer. They seemed like a nightmare, long past.
The baby cooed and he looked down into that handsome little face, seeing his strong Irish heritage mixed with Mara’s warm English blood. He saw his father in that little face, his mother, and ancestors long passed. He saw the future. He saw his life. He saw every dream he had ever possessed in a living, breathing form.
Mara called to him and he took his gaze off the baby, once again focused on his lovely wife. With a smile and a return wave, he headed off in her direction. He was looking forward to this visit to reconnect with his sister in law and her husband, and of the good people that now populated Anchorsholme. Wanda, Valdine, Corwin, and even the former servant children Robert, Fiona, Gilly and George… they would all be there. Perhaps even Lily and her husband would visit from Quernmore. Kirk was looking forward to seeing them all again.
Life was good and the Darkland, for all concerned, was no longer dark.
It had become home.
THE END
About the Author
Medieval Just Got Real.
KATHRYN LE VEQUE is a USA TODAY Bestselling author, an Amazon All-Star author, and a #1 bestselling, award-winning, multi-published author in Medieval Historical Romance and Historical Fiction. She has been featured in the NEW YORK TIMES and on USA TODAY’s HEA blog. In March 2015, Kathryn was the featured cover story for the March issue of InD’Tale Magazine, the premier Indie author magazine. She was also a quadruple nominee (a record!) for the prestigious RONE awards for 2015.
Kathryn’s Medieval Romance novels have been called ‘detailed’, ‘highly romantic’, and ‘character-rich’. She crafts great adventures of love, battles, passion, and romance in the High Middle Ages. More than that, she writes for both women AND men – an unusual crossover for a romance author – and Kathryn has many male readers who enjoy her stories because of the male perspective, the action, and the adventure.
On October 29, 2015, Amazon launched Kathryn’s Kindle Worlds Fan Fiction site WORLD OF DE WOLFE PACK. Please visit Kindle Worlds for Kathryn Le Veque’s World of de Wolfe Pack and find many action-packed adventures written by some of the top authors in their genre using Kathryn’s characters from the de Wolfe Pack series. As Kindle World’s FIRST Historical Romance fan fiction world, Kathryn Le Veque’s World of de Wolfe Pack will contain all of the great story-telling you have come to expect.
Kathryn loves to hear from her readers. Please find Kathryn on Facebook at Kathryn Le Veque, Author, or join her on Twitter @kathrynleveque, and don’t forget to visit her website at www.kathrynleveque.com.
Kathryn Le Veque on Amazon
Books by Kathryn Le Veque
Medieval Romance:
The de Russe Legacy:
The White Lord of Wellesbourne
The Dark One: Dark Knight
Beast
Lord of War: Black Angel
The Falls of Erith
The Iron Knight
The de Lohr Dynasty:
While Angels Slept (Lords of East Anglia)
Rise of the Defender
Steelheart
Spectre of the Sword
Archangel
Unending Love
Shadowmoor
Silversword
Great Lords of le Bec:
Great Protector
To the Lady Born (House of de Royans)
Lords of Eire:
The Darkland (Master Knights of Connaught)
Black Sword
Echoes of Ancient Dreams (time travel)
De Wolfe Pack Series:
The Wolfe
Serpent
Scorpion (Saxon Lords of Hage – Also related to The Questing)
Walls of Babylon
The Lion of the North
Dark Destroyer
Ancient Kings of Anglecynn:
The Whispering Night
Netherworld
Battle Lords of de Velt:
The Dark Lord
Devil’s Dominion
Reign of the House of de Winter:
Lespada
Swords and Shields (also related to The Questing, While Angels Slept)
De Reyne Domination:
Guardian of Darkness
The Fallen One (part of Dragonblade Series)
Unrelated characters or family groups:
The Gorgon (Also related to Lords of Thunder)
The Warrior Poet (St. John and de Gare)
Tender is the Knight (House of d’Vant)
Lord of Light
The Questing (related to The Dark Lord, Scorpion)
The Legend (House of Summerlin)
The Dragonblade Series: (Great Marcher Lords of de Lara)
Dragonblade
Island of Glass (House of St. Hever)
The Savage Curtain (Lords of Pembury)
The Fallen One (De Reyne Domination)
Fragments of Grace (House of St. Hever)
Lord of the Shadows
Queen of Lost Stars (House of St. Hever)
Lords of Thunder: The de Shera Brotherhood Trilogy
The Thunder Lord
The Thunder Warrior
The Thunder Knight
/> Time Travel Romance: (Saxon Lords of Hage)
The Crusader
Kingdom Come
Contemporary Romance:
Kathlyn Trent/Marcus Burton Series:
Valley of the Shadow
The Eden Factor
Canyon of the Sphinx
The American Heroes Series:
The Lucius Robe
Fires of Autumn
Evenshade
Sea of Dreams
Purgatory
Other Contemporary Romance:
Lady of Heaven
Darkling, I Listen
Multi-author Collections/Anthologies:
With Dreams Only of You (USA Today bestseller)
Sirens of the Northern Seas (Viking romance)
Ever My Love (sequel to With Dreams Only Of You) July 2016
Kindle Worlds (Kathryn Le Veque World of de Wolfe Pack):
River’s End
The Wedding Fountain (Bella Andre’s Kindle World)
Note: All Kathryn’s novels are designed to be read as stand-alones, although many have crossover characters or crossover family groups. Novels that are grouped together have related characters or family groups.
Series are clearly marked. All series contain the same characters or family groups except the American Heroes Series, which is an anthology with unrelated characters.
There is NO particular chronological order for any of the novels because they can all be read as stand-alones, even the series.
For more information, find it in A Reader’s Guide to the Medieval World of Le Veque.
Of One Heart
Renaissance Rogues, Book 2
Cynthia Wright
Prologue
And wilt thou leave me thus,
And have no more pity
Of her that loveth thee?
Helas! thy cruelty!
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!
– Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542)
Amboise, France
September 10, 1532
“Bernard Tevoulere is pitted against Arnaud Guerre in the tournament!” exclaimed Aimée de St. Briac to her husband. “Everyone knows of Bernard’s affair with Elise Guerre. It’s madness for him to joust against her husband!”
Thomas Mardouet, seigneur de St. Briac, drew off his helm and took a chair beside his wife in the gallery of the king’s chateau at Amboise. Below them was spread the courtyard, where a daylong tournament was in progress. St. Briac had just finished his own joust, teamed with King François against two of their other childhood friends. This was all harmless fun and exercise as far as Thomas was concerned, but Aimée did have a point about Bernard Tevoulere and Arnaud Guerre.
As they waited for the two men to take their places on the field, St. Briac’s penetrating turquoise eyes gazed southward over the dreamy Loire River that lay far below King François’s magnificent chateau. As boys, he and the king had played at jousting here. Now they were men but their friendship endured and so did the games.
Other games—the inevitable feuds and intrigues that permeated so large a court—hadn’t changed either. Since their marriage, Thomas and Aimée had spent most of their time at their chateau, happiest in that world fashioned around their children, home, and vineyards. However, these visits to court were necessary. King François missed his old friend, and it did Aimée good to socialize, but there were drawbacks. The most current example was the joust they would soon witness between the feckless Bernard Tevoulere and his enraged rival, Arnaud Guerre.
“I saw Bernard while preparing for my own match,” St. Briac told Aimée softly, running a hand through his damp hair. “He’s deteriorated sharply since our last visit to court. His new life as chevalier to the king has only weakened his character. He was drinking wine and boasting about the fact that he’s to fight his mistress’s husband…”
The king had come into the gallery, magnificent in his black and gold armor, and silence reigned until he had taken his place to oversee the remainder of the tournament. Aimée waited and worried.
Bernard Tevoulere was married to her dearest friend, Micheline. They’d met when Aimée had traveled south, babies in tow, to visit her parents near Angouleme. During the few short years of their friendship, Aimée had returned to Angouleme to see Micheline as much as to reunite her children with their grandparents. When Bernard had become bored with country life and began to spend more time at court, Micheline remained behind in Angouleme.
“Poor Micheline!” Aimée whispered to Thomas. “It infuriates me to think of her, living alone while he cavorts at court! What a fool he is! Married to the finest woman in France, and yet he leads a double life. I’d almost sympathize with Arnaud Guerre in this joust, if I didn’t know how much Bernard means to Micheline—”
“Micheline’s led a sheltered life,” St. Briac replied quietly. “And Bernard has changed, miette.”
“Tragically!”
Thomas reached out to caress his wife’s glossy black curls. “Bernard must have been flawed from the beginning; these circumstances have merely exposed his weaknesses. If the man had any honor, he’d realize what’s truly important in life and bind himself to the lady he’s blessed to call his wife.”
A series of trumpet blasts announced the next contest. Bernard Tevoulere and Arnaud Guerre rode onto the field, pausing before the gallery to salute the king. Bernard, who was neither as tall nor as powerfully built as his opponent, lifted his visor and grinned confidently. While Elise Guerre stood to extend her hand to her husband, Bernard chuckled audibly and received a sharp glance from the king.
Moments later the two men on horseback were in position at opposite ends of the lists. Another clarion call signaled the first charge, which proved to be routine as lances struck shields and the horses reared back in reaction to the blows.
Aimée told herself that there was nothing to worry about. This was only a game, after all, not a fight to the death. Still, she couldn’t help remembering another joust on this very field when an enemy of Thomas’s had tried to kill him… and there was something about Guerre’s bearing that sent a cold chill down her spine. Silently Aimée closed her eyes and began to pray.
She heard the trumpet, the charge of the horses, a loud crash, and then surprised gasps and cries of alarm from the assembled throng.
“Sangdieu!” hissed St. Briac. “Guerre struck at Tevoulere’s helm!”
Filled with dread, Aimée opened her eyes to discover Bernard lying on the field, his head bent at an unnatural angle, while Arnaud Guerre remained on his horse, staring dispassionately at the body of his vanquished rival.
Part One
Well, fools must strike on the rebound.
While ladies volley in the air;
Collecting dues Love roams around;
All Faith is violated there.
Be hugs and kisses ne’er so rare.
Join hounds, arms, hawks and lovers’ gains.
For all, at last, make mortals swear:
“For one short joy a thousand pains!”
– François Villon 1431-?
Chapter One
Angouleme, France
September 10, 1532
Soft late-afternoon sunlight filtered through the abundant green woods east of Angouleme as Micheline Tevoulere cantered home astride her huge white stallion, Gustave. She was the picture of beauty in a pale yellow gown that set off her luminous eyes, which were the color of the spring’s first French irises. Lifting her face, she tasted the wind, curling brandy-hued tresses flying free in her wake.
Approaching the modest stone manor house where she had lived since her marriage four years earlier, Micheline felt a familiar shadow steal over her heart. She loved this place, but it hardly seemed a home with Bernard away so much at court. Dismounting outside the stables, she handed Gustave’s reins over to the groom and then noticed the other horses in stalls that were usually empty.
“The seigneur and madame de St. Briac arrived this past hour
, madame,” the boy explained.
A radiant smile lit Micheline’s countenance. “What a wonderful surprise!” Gathering the books she’d brought back from her father’s house, she raced toward the manor’s rear entrance.
Aimée was there to greet her. They embraced warmly, then continued into the spacious flower-filled kitchen, where Micheline set her books on a long oak table and turned to beam at her friend.
“I cannot believe my eyes! It’s as if you dropped from heaven, cherie! I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I went to take a pie to Papa, then stayed to search his library for something I hadn’t read more than twice before. With Bernard away so much, I’d be lost without books.” She paused, shaking her head in renewed disbelief. “It’s absolutely marvelous to see you! You’re just what I’ve needed, Aimée.”
The older woman heard the hint of melancholy in her friend’s voice, and her heart ached in response. “I’ve missed you, too, Micheline. Thomas has taken our daughters to see my parents, so we have plenty of time for a long talk. Have you any wine?”
“What a question!”
Aimée took a chair and watched as Micheline poured Burgundy into pewter goblets. She was so lovely and unspoiled, so filled with intelligence and heart-melting warmth. Aimée thought not for the first time that all these gifts were wasted in the seclusion of the Angouleme woods. When Bernard and Micheline first married, it seemed a promising union. Micheline’s mother was dead, her father bluff and distant, her brother moved to Normandy; only Bernard appeared to nourish the lonely young girl’s heart. As an adolescent he had been her best friend, teaching her to ride, to swim, and, eventually, to kiss. By the time they wed, at seventeen, Micheline felt as certain of Bernard as she was of the sunrise. Who could have foreseen that he would turn faithless as he grew into true manhood?
Micheline set the goblets on the table and took the hand that Aimée stretched out to her.
“Do you remember when we first met?” Aimée asked softly.
“Yes—of course! It was just before Bernard pledged himself as a knight to King François and went off with the army to Italy. You’d come south with Juliette soon after her birth, and stayed for a month. I don’t know how I should have endured Bernard’s departure without you. You are my most cherished friend, Aimée! You came into my life just as I was learning that I couldn’t rely on Bernard alone to fill my days.”
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