Heart of Honor (Knights of Honor Book 5)

by Alexa Aston

  “Lord Godwin is a man of considerable influence at the royal court. My family—and my husband’s family—both pushed for a marriage to his son when he offered the possibility to them. You have been at court, my lady. You know all about political alliances and how quickly they can be formed—or dissolved.”

  “Please, call me Alys,” she asked. She felt no hatred for this woman. In fact, she believed Thea would make a good wife to Kit. She had a sweet nature and keen intelligence.

  “Thank you, Alys,” Thea said, embracing her. “I’m only sorry that you leave in the morning. Mayhap you can return soon for a visit. I have no sisters, and I feel a kinship with you.”

  “Mayhap,” Alys said. She didn’t want to make—much less keep—a vague promise to this woman. She would never, ever return to Brentwood, no matter how many years passed. She could not imagine stepping inside the solar and seeing Kit in the presence of his beautiful wife, children playing at their feet, a babe nursing at Thea’s breast.

  After she made sure Thea had settled in, Alys returned to the bedchamber where Thea had first been placed. She remained in her room the rest of the day and didn’t bother to attend the evening meal. How could she sit there, trying to swallow the tasteless food, possibly sitting next to Kit for the last time?

  Instead, she lay on her bed, dry eyed. She would weep tears of sorrow later when she returned home. At Kinwick, she would have the support of her family and could lean on their collective strength to see her through this ordeal. For now, she aimed to keep a tight rein on her emotions.

  When a knock sounded at her door, she ignored it. She had no intention of speaking to anyone, least of all Kit, before she left Brentwood.

  But the knocking persisted. It turned into pounding. Alys climbed from the bed and crossed quickly to the door. She opened it less than the width of her hand. As she expected, Kit stood on the other side, his eyes sparking with anger.

  And desire.

  “I cannot speak with you, my lord,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Please leave—and do not return.”

  She began to push the door shut, but his hand slipped in and forced it open. Alys jumped back. Kit started toward her, his arms held out to embrace her. She ducked under one and fled the chamber, not wanting to be alone with him inside it. Not wanting to make love with him one last time. At least in the corridor, she felt safe from any assault.

  He stepped out and looked in both directions before he headed toward her. Alys’ heart began racing as she saw the hallway was deserted. She took off down it.

  But Kit was beside her in an instant, his longer strides closing the distance between them in seconds. His hands captured her waist and pushed her against the stone wall even as his body blocked her escape.

  “Alys. You must not go.” His hands held firm, keeping her in place.

  She raised her eyes to meet his. “I must,” she insisted. “You have a betrothed, which means contracts were signed.”

  “Not by me,” he insisted. “I am committed to you, my love. My heart. My mind. My soul. My body. All cry out. For you.”

  She knew what he planned to do as he lowered his head and whipped her face away. His lips grazed her cheek and then his teeth nibbled on her earlobe, causing a sharp intake of breath. His tongue toyed with her ear, forcing her to catch her breath as she began to whimper. Her head fell back, exposing her throat to him, and Kit took full advantage of that.

  Alys tried to keep her hands off him, but she gave in to temptation. Pushed her fingers into his thick, dark hair. Brought her lips to his. Kissed him with everything she had. In her mind, she rationalized that this would be their last kiss, the best, the sweetest of all. It went on and on and on until time stood still.

  Finally, she broke it. “Enough,” she pleaded.

  “This can’t be goodbye between us,” Kit told her. “I beg you. Do not leave me. I care not that Father will disinherit me. I only know that I must be with you. I cannot live without you, Alys. I cannot. Don’t ask that of me.”

  Anger coursed through her at the threat father had made against son, but she must convince Kit to do the right thing.

  “Don’t let Brentwood and its people suffer because of your selfish desires, Kit. You must remain here and become the baron when your father passes. You know that will happen soon.”

  She studied him. “And because you owe it to Brentwood, you know I could never stay. I cannot become your wife. I refuse to serve as your mistress. Nay, Kit. You have a legal obligation to marry Lady Thea. I spent a good deal of time with her today. She is kind and intelligent and lovely to look at. She will give you fine sons and daughters. You must honor her and the betrothal contract. I can never be a part of your life.”

  “But how will I live without you?” he asked, his voice breaking.

  She understood his words, for she’d thought of nothing else during the last several hours.

  “We will go on because we must,” she said simply. “I refuse to be the cause of you losing all that is dear to you. I am not meant to ever love another man. Only you. I will love you till my dying day, Kit Emory.”

  Alys took his face in her hands and drank in one long, last look. “’Tis goodbye we must say now, my precious. I want you to live a good life with Thea. Forget me and our time together. Live in your present with your wife and the future to come. Promise me you will.” When she saw the doubt in his eyes, she said it again. “Promise me.”

  Alys saw Kit was close to the breaking point, but he uttered the words. “I promise.”

  She pressed her lips to his one last time and then pulled away from him. Their tender farewell had ended. She must keep her resolve.

  Without a backward glance, Alys hurried to her chamber and slipped inside. She closed the door and leaned on it for support. Her forehead dropped against the thick oak.

  And then the tears came.

  Chapter 16

  Kit’s spirits had never sunk lower in his life. His head told him that Alys was right. He couldn’t let the people of Brentwood down and walk away—especially with his father so near death. Godwin Emory had no surviving brothers, nor did Kit have any male cousins that Brentwood could go to. If his father disinherited him for abandoning Lady Thea and the betrothal contracts, the estate would revert back to the crown. His mother would become homeless, her life’s work all for naught. A new nobleman would lay claim to the title Baron of Brentley, and Kit could not guarantee that would be a good thing for their people.

  If Alys had taught him one thing, it was sacrifice. She always did for others. Even now, she thought of the tenants and servants of Brentwood and his mother before herself. She wanted their futures guaranteed. She’d also encouraged him to marry Lady Thea and praised the noblewoman’s good qualities.

  But his heart remained broken despite Alys’ advice to forget her. How could he push aside his memories of her? How could he go on when the love of his life was about to ride out the gates of Brentwood forever?

  And how could he let her down? She had put great faith in him to do the right thing. To honor his family name and his people. Kit knew this was even harder on Alys than for him. He would look after Brentwood and its workers and keep his mother safe. He would make this marriage to Lady Thea work and father children, leaving them as his legacy. Kit would live up to the man Alys de Montfort expected him to be.

  His heart told him Alys would have none of this. She would never marry nor have a companion to lessen her load and share her burdens and triumphs. Alys would carry him in her heart and forever be true to the love they shared.

  That caused Kit grief beyond the pain he experienced for himself. Alys sacrificed her own happiness . . . so that he could be happy and fulfilled.

  Without meaning to, he left his bedchamber. He had skipped mass and breaking his fast, not trusting himself to see Alys. He didn’t want to be present when she and the guard from Brentwood rode from the bailey. And yet Kit’s feet carried him down the stairs. He told himself he would merely step outside
the keep and only catch a last glimpse of her. One final look that would have to last him a lifetime.

  His mother rushed to his side. “Will you not stop her?” she hissed.

  “Nay, Mother.”

  “But you love her, Kit. And she loves you.”

  “We spoke last night,” he said quietly. “Though unhappiness fills me, this is what Alys deemed best. We love each other enough to . . . let go.”

  His mother stared at him, a hard look he had never seen in her eyes. “You would both let love go, something so rare and fine. Something that others seek and wait a lifetime for and never find.”

  Kit shook his head sadly. “I must respect her wishes, Mother. This is what Alys wants.”

  “You will never convince me of that.” Her eyes narrowed. “You are no son of mine. My son would stand up to his father. He would show me that he is the better man he claimed to be because of the love of that woman. He would act boldly.”

  Kit laughed harshly. “The old Kit Emory would rush after her, I believe, and damn whatever consequences befell us. But Alys led me to understand that more is in play than the two of us if Father disinherits me. You. Lady Thea. This estate. The people of Brentwood. All would be sacrificed with nothing gained.” His hands fisted by his side. “It’s because of what Alys taught me that I know I cannot put myself first. That I am a good man and must think of others before myself—even if both our hearts will be forever bruised.”

  He saw understanding dawn on his mother’s face as she contemplated his words. She took his hand and pressed it against her cheek as her tears spilled onto it.

  “Oh, my son. You are truly a good man to give up the woman you love and your very happiness. I am sorry I judged you so harshly. Forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive, Mother,” he said softly. “But I want a last glimpse of her.”

  “Of course.”

  Kit left his mother and exited the keep. He glanced down into the courtyard and saw Alys tying her case to the saddle horn. A knight assisted her as she mounted her horse. He counted a guard of ten men that would accompany her back to Kinwick. He choked as the sun came out, shining down on her rich chestnut hair. He remembered his fingers gliding through the silken locks, his hands caressing her curves, their bodies joining as one.

  Alys looked in his direction. Their eyes locked upon one another for a long moment. Neither raised a hand in farewell. She finally turned her horse. The sound of beating hooves filled the air as the escort party rode off.

  Kit was beside himself. He fled back into the keep and ran up the dozens of steps until he reached the turret. He had brought Alys up here one afternoon. They had traded heated kisses. He told her this would become their private retreat, where they could escape the world for a few hours. Now he flung open the window so he could watch her ride away. The turret was the highest point in the keep, so Kit could watch her for the longest time. He caught sight of her russet cotehardie and chestnut hair and kept his eyes fixed on her until she was far into the distance. Alys reached the top of the hill and passed over it, dropping from his sight.

  He ached more than when his body had been battered by the thieves on the road. At least the bruises he had received that day had finally receded. Now, the scars left on his heart by Alys de Montfort would never heal. He closed the window, misery cloaking him.

  “My lord?”

  Kit turned abruptly and found Lady Thea standing in the doorway. They had never spoken to one another, yet here was the woman he was supposed to take to wife. To his bed. The thought of love play between them sickened him.

  “What?” He regretted his harsh tone as she winced.

  “May we speak freely to one another?” she asked.

  “Aye. ’Twould be good to start doing so now,” he admitted.

  She closed the door and came to stand before him. Thea was lovely beyond compare. And yet even aware of her great beauty, it did nothing to move him, for he longed for Alys de Montfort more than ever while standing in this woman’s presence.

  “I overheard you last night.”

  Kit frowned. “What?”

  The young widow gave him a sad smile. “Your conversation with Lady Alys. I heard it. You were in the hallway, near my room.” She flushed pink with embarrassment. “I . . . I opened my door to see what was wrong. I couldn’t help but listen to your conversation.”

  Guilt rushed through Kit. “My lady, I would never wish to harm you.”

  “You love her.”

  He sighed. He couldn’t deny it. “I do.”

  “And you both acted nobly in this matter. You let her return to her home just now. You are willing to keep your commitment to me. A commitment you neither pursued nor made.”

  “Aye,” he said, the ache within him heavy.

  She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I believe in love,” she declared. “Love triumphs over all. Love is what matters most. I did not share it with my husband. We were promised to each other years earlier. I only saw him once, when our betrothal contracts were signed. The next time was when we wed.”

  Lady Thea paused. “But I have known love. Great love—with another man. I have loved my Tybalt since we were children. We fostered in the same noble household together. I was separated from him when I wed. That made us both unhappy.”

  She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “Should we both be unhappy the rest of our lives in order to please our inattentive fathers? Mine is close to death, which is why he did not accompany Lord Godwin and me to Brentwood. Your father is also suffering from poor health. Neither will live long enough to see any issue from our marriage.”

  Her words caused his mind to reel.

  “My lady, are you telling me that we both need to take a stand—for love?”

  She broke out in a sunny smile. “I am, my lord. I think we should go to London. I know enough of the right people to ensure that the king will grant us an audience.”

  Lady Thea’s eyes locked with Kit’s. “So what say you, my lord? Are you willing to risk all and hope that we can both find a chance at lasting happiness—only with other spouses?”

  Hope burst inside him. Kit boldly picked the widow up by her waist and twirled her about. Laughter spilled from her lips. He joined in, his spirits soaring. Finally, he brought her back to earth.

  “It may not work,” he cautioned. “We must prepare ourselves for the king to reject our pleas.”

  “But we would regret forever not trying to change our fates,” she insisted.

  He smiled at her. “I agree. We will abide by what the king says. I only pray to Christ Almighty that this will lead us to our beloveds. And if not?”

  Thea placed her hand atop his. “Then we will have made our best effort and must go forward with our own nuptials.” Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered. “Thank you for agreeing to try.”

  *

  Kit took Lady Thea to his mother. He found her pouring over ledgers, scattered parchments around her.

  “Are you preparing for the hay harvest? Or shearing?” he asked as he ushered Lady Thea into the small room and closed the door. He seated his betrothed and looked to his mother.

  She studied them, intrigue plainly written across her face.

  “The two of you are up to something,” she said. “I think I will like what you have to tell me.”

  “Lady Thea knows I am in love with Alys,” Kit said bluntly. “She herself is in love with another man. We have no wish to wed one another.”

  “Though we will do so if absolutely necessary,” the widow added.

  His mother’s brows rose. “How can I help you?”

  “We wish to take our case to the king and see if he will allow the betrothal contract between us to be annulled.”

  “And you don’t wish your father to know of this.”

  “Precisely.”

  Lady Berengaria steepled her fingers, her elbows propped upon the table. “Godwin won’t be a problem,”
she stated.

  “Can you keep Father here at Brentwood for a few days?” asked Kit.

  She sniffed. “He is not going anywhere. Frankly, I don’t know how he rode here from London. He has taken to his bed. By the looks of him, he most likely will never leave it.”

  “If he asks for me, put him off,” Kit said. “Tell him I’m busy overseeing the hay harvest and want it finished before the wedding so that I may concentrate on my new bride.”

  “You can tell him I am troublesome,” Thea volunteered. “That I have sent to London for a dressmaker for my wedding attire. That I am waiting to sort through different materials and deciding what I should wear. Make me sound as difficult as possible.”

  Kit watched his mother smile approvingly at Lady Thea’s words.

  “I’ll also inform him that I have sent to London for a healer to look at him. Father William has usually seen to our needs at Brentwood, but Godwin never cared for the man.” She looked to her son. “How long do you think you will be?”

  “It depends on how long it takes for the king to grant us an audience. Lady Thea said it could be mere days—or weeks.” Kit wondered at that moment when he would next see Alys. If his seed grew in her belly. If the next time he touched her, she would be round with his babe.

  “You should leave at once,” Berengaria suggested. “Although I sent our best men with Alys to Kinwick, we still have several good soldiers that can accompany you.” She looked to Lady Thea. “It’s almost June. What of the king’s summer progress? London usually empties itself as the nobility flocks to their summer homes and the king travels about. Will that give you enough time to see him?”

  “Fortunately, the king had not planned to go on progress this summer,” Thea shared. “Between his declining health and that of the Black Prince’s, he had decided to remain in London this season.”

  “That will certainly help,” Kit noted. “If many courtiers vacate the palace, it might make it easier for us to acquire an audience with the king. I do think we should leave immediately. If we do, it will put us in London by noon tomorrow.”