by Alexa Aston
“I will do my best to keep Godwin in the dark as to your whereabouts.”
“Agreed.” Kit went and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Thank you,” he said.
“I hope it works out. For you both.”
He escorted Lady Thea to her bedchamber. “Pack lightly,” he advised. “Leave your trunk here at Brentwood. Take only a few things.”
“I have a friend at court who will lend me clothes to wear. I can also stay with her. She serves the Black Prince’s wife and is a fellow widow.”
“Good. I, too, have a friend that will keep me close by.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I must thank you, my lady. You have been gracious in this matter.”
“I hope for both our sakes that we will meet with success, my lord.”
“I will come to escort you to the stables once I’ve arranged for us to leave.”
Kit decided to pen a brief missive to Alys. He wanted her to know what they tried. He started it three times and tore up each attempt. No, he would keep his actions a secret from her. If they proved to be unsuccessful, he did not want to dash her hopes. In case the king proved amenable, he would make sure Lady Thea made it safely to her Tybalt.
Then he would ride with haste to Kinwick. To Alys.
And demand to marry her on the spot.
Chapter 17
Both Kit and Thea went to work the minute they arrived London. He could tell that the ranks of court had already thinned and assumed many of the courtiers had started to return to their estates across England because the corridors of the palace were not lined with sycophants in clumps, whispering and preening. A few remained, but Kit felt optimistic of their chances for gaining an audience with the king sooner rather than later.
They had left Brentwood yesterday morning and arrived in town just after the noon hour today. Thea went to find her friend in the royal household and said she would speak to a few of the men in her father’s circle. Kit went directly to the Lord Chamberlain, a man his father had worked in close proximity to for many years.
He entered the rooms of Lord Richmond and spoke to a few men gathered there as they dined at a small table. Kit requested a meeting with Richmond and was surprised that he was shown in right away. The rotund nobleman was also at a table, devouring a roasted chicken and fresh loaf of bread as he looked over a stack of papers.
“Greetings, my lord,” Kit said as he approached him. “It’s Kit Emory, Godwin’s son.”
Richmond gave him a tight smile. Kit always thought the man looked pained when he had to show any kind of happiness.
“What brings you to court, young Kit?” The nobleman paused, a serious look crossing his face. “Has your father passed?”
“Nay, though I feel certain his time draws near.”
Richmond waved a chicken leg in the air. “To be honest, my boy, I don’t know which man will pass first—your father or the Black Prince. Both are in terrible shape. And the king is not doing much better.” He shook his head. “This court will change—and soon.”
“I am sorry to hear that. Prince Edward has been such a stalwart figure for England.”
“Well, who is to say? ’Tis up to a merciful Christ to decide when their times come. So why are you at court? Have you lost interest in fighting and decided you would rather push papers about, as I do?” Again, the tight little smile that Richmond favored was displayed on his thin lips.
“I’m here to gain an audience with the king,” Kit said. “It concerns a private matter, but I will share with you that it involves my betrothed, Lady Thea. She is distantly related to Lancaster, you know.”
They had decided not to give any details to anyone. Kit believed if others knew why he and Thea wished to visit with King Edward that their request would be flatly denied. He told her to lend an air of mystery to their request and to use her connection through her first marriage to the Duke of Lancaster, hoping it might be enough to secure them an audience.
“I see.” Richmond stared off, considering Kit’s words, then he turned back to Kit. “The king could see you for a very short time. On the morrow, as he breaks his fast. Is that to your liking?”
“Indeed, my Lord Chamberlain. I am most grateful to you, as I know Lady Thea will be. Until then.”
Kit left, elated that time with the king had already been scheduled. He found Thea waiting at their prearranged destination and shared his good news.
“Richmond has always been a bit fond of me. I think he would like to have been the rebel I am known to be.”
She laughed. “Believe me, your reputation made its way to my ears, my lord. I was horrified that I would wed another man who raced off into battle without a thought.” She hesitated. “But you are nothing like the man I heard you were,” Thea admitted. “You have surprised me.”
“I have surprised myself, Lady Thea,” he told her. “The man I once was no longer exists. In his place is a new one, mayhap a little wiser. And certainly one who has matured significantly from my younger days.”
Her eyes sparkled at him. “I gather this involves the steadying hand and good influence of Lady Alys upon you?”
He grinned. “You guess correctly. Alys has changed me in ways I never could have imagined.”
“Then I hope we will be successful in our venture, my lord.”
He paused and gave her a long look. “If I had not fallen in love with Alys, my lady, mayhap we could have loved one another.”
“Be careful,” she warned. “You may be saddled with me if the king does not choose to support us.”
Kit took her hand. “Alys will always have my heart, Lady Thea, but if we wind up wed? I suppose there are worse things.” He looked around. “’Tis a warm day full of sunshine. Would you care to take a walk with me along the Thames?”
“I would enjoy that, my lord.”
He guided her to her feet, and they spent the remainder of the afternoon strolling the streets of London. Lady Thea made for good company. She had amusing stories of her childhood. Kit shared some of the scrapes he had been involved in at the various noble households in which he’d fostered. They returned to partake of the evening meal at court and parted ways.
“Meet me in this same place. Early. We want to be at the king’s door in plenty of time.”
“I shall, my lord. Thank you for a lovely day.”
Kit parted from her, eager for their meeting with the king.
*
Kit barely slept and finally rose, splashing cold water on his face. He changed into the clean gypon and cotehardie that he had brought from Brentwood and set out last night. Slipping into the dim corridor, he ran his fingers through his hair as he made his way to where he had arranged to meet Lady Thea.
It surprised him to find her already there, looking fresh and rested in a pale yellow, sideless surcoat and matching kirtle. Her dark, sleek hair was pulled away from her face and fell into a long braid that rested over one shoulder.
“I had trouble sleeping,” she said. “Part excitement. Part nerves.”
“I would never have been able to tell, my lady. You look quite fetching this morning.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Thea slipped her hand through the crook of Kit’s arm and he guided them through the maze of corridors until they reached the king’s rooms. Two armored knights stood silently at the doors. He seated Thea and stood next to her, leaning his tall frame against the wall.
An hour passed with only silence as their companion. Suddenly, a flurry of servants appeared with trays. The guards on duty admitted them. Close on their heels followed the Lord Chamberlain.
“Let me see how he fares this morning,” Richmond said when he spotted them. “I will return for you soon after if he wishes to speak with you.”
Kit forced himself not to dog Richmond’s heels. He waited as patiently as he could, nerves bubbling within him. Thea gave him a reassuring smile. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it in return.
Minutes later, the servants file
d back out. Richmond appeared at the door as they left and motioned for Kit and Thea to rise.
“His majesty is eating, but he’s willing to see you for a brief conversation,” the Lord Chamberlain said.
“Thank you,” Kit told him.
He escorted Thea into the anteroom and through its doors. Another empty room awaited, so they pressed on and walked through a different set of doors. The king sat atop the royal chamber pot, a mug of ale in one hand and a slice of bread in his other. Kit felt Thea stiffen beside him, then he sensed her relax and steel herself for the encounter ahead.
“Sire.” Kit bowed low while Thea dropped into a deep curtsey.
“Rise,” the monarch commanded. He frowned at them. “I know you are Brentley’s whelp.”
“Christopher Emory, your majesty. And this is Lady Thea.”
Edward eyed the beautiful widow with appreciation. “You are most lovely, my lady. I know I have seen you at court on occasion.”
“Aye, your majesty.” She demurely dropped her eyes.
The king swallowed another sip of ale. “So what is this about, Emory? Your father? By the Christ, he looked dreadful when he left London a few days ago.”
“He is doing poorly, sire. But this is a personal matter Lady Thea and I wish to discuss with you.”
“Hmm. Personal, you say.” The king stuffed the remainder of the bread into his mouth.
Beads of perspiration broke out along his hairline, but Kit plunged ahead. “Everyone knows that your marriage to the queen was an arranged one, your majesty.”
“As are all marriages for royals,” the king snapped. “And my noblemen, for the most part.”
“But it’s also well known that you and Queen Philippa became a love match.”
Edward’s face softened for a moment at the mention of his dead wife’s name. “Ah, we did not start that way. But my queen was a feisty young girl. Sweet—but most opinionated. We became friends. Good friends, and then—only then—did love grow between us.”
“Love matches abound in my beloved’s family.”
The king frowned. He looked from Kit to Thea. “Is this not your beloved?”
“Nay, sire. Lady Thea is my betrothed. My father signed the contracts without my knowledge. But my beloved is my soul mate. I speak of Lady Alys de Montfort and her family. True love is present in all of the marriages the de Montforts have made.”
“You said Alys de Montfort?”
“I did, sire.”
“My Alys, from my wife’s court?” King Edward broke out into a wide smile. “Oh, that girl was such a help to me and my dear Philippa, many times over. And I am most fond of her parents.” He gave Kit a roguish grin. “I would marry Lady Merryn if no Geoffrey de Montfort existed. Of course, half the men in my kingdom would do the same.”
The king paused. “Does Lady Alys resemble her mother? I have not seen her in a good number of years.”
Kit nodded. “I am told she is the picture of her mother at that age. And looking at Lady Merryn, ’tis easy to see how Alys will only grow more beautiful as the years pass.”
Edward grunted and looked to Thea. “And I suppose you will tell me that you, too, have a beloved, my lady? A man who is not your betrothed here?” The king studied her, rubbing his chin. “You were married before, if I am not mistaken.”
“I was, your majesty. My husband gave his life defending England in the French wars, but he was not my heart’s desire. I have loved another from childhood.” Thea took a step closer to him. “Yet I was a dutiful daughter and did as I was told. I married my first husband—and then my father arranged for a second marriage to Sir Kit, who also had lost his first wife.”
She fell to her knees. “We both have a second chance at love, sire. Sir Kit with Lady Alys and I with my Tybalt. I implore you, sire, to consider our request to set aside the betrothal contracts and allow us, this time, to marry our choices.”
Kit helped Thea rise and watched as Edward mulled over their proposition. His eyes became watery with tears. When Kit saw that, he knew there was hope.
The king looked from one to the other. “I will agree to void the contract,” he said gruffly. “Only because it ’twould please my beloved Philippa.”
“Even if our fathers object?” asked Kit.
“Especially if they object!” The king tossed back his head and roared with laughter. He wiped the tears that now streamed down his cheeks. “I ask but one favor of you, Sir Kit.”
“Anything, my king,” he said fervently.
Edward looked first to Thea. “Is your sweetheart free to marry, Lady Thea?”
She nodded. “He would marry me tomorrow if he could, your majesty.”
“Then tell him you have my blessing to do so.”
Thea burst into tears and rushed to the king. She dropped to her knees again and took his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you. Thank you, sire,” she said.
Kit assisted her to her feet. “And what may I do for you, your majesty?”
“I would advise you to avoid your father and head straight for Kinwick.” He smiled. “I have such fond memories of stopping there on summer progress. The tarts their cook created melted in my mouth. I tell you now to marry Lady Alys with due haste and father a dozen or more children. I only ask that you name your first daughter Philippa after my beloved wife. Lady Alys served her well, and Philippa was quite taken with the girl. My queen’s romantic heart would take pleasure in such a happy ending for Alys de Montfort.”
“It would be our pleasure to name our daughter for such a wise, noble woman. I give you my word, sire. Philippa Emory will know who her namesake is and also be told of the generosity of our king in allowing her parents to wed at Kinwick.”
“Then go. Tear up the contracts. In fact, I order you to rip them apart and burn them.”
“We will follow your majesty’s instructions to the letter. Thank you,” Kit said.
He bowed and escorted Thea from the royal bedchamber. Taking her hand, he ran down the halls with her, oblivious to the odd looks tossed their way. They reached an outer courtyard, and Kit impulsively kissed her.
“Our first—and last—kiss, my lady. One of jubilation and celebration.” He smiled down at her. “I believe I have made in you a friend for life. My first female friend.”
Thea glowed with happiness. “You have given me new life, Kit Emory. I will be forever in your debt.”
“I say we should remain friends. I would enjoy meeting your Tybalt. Would you and your husband like to come spend Christmas at Brentwood with Alys and me?”
“I can think of no better plans, my lord.” She sighed. “You will take care of disposing of the contracts?”
“Nothing will give me greater pleasure than burning them to a crisp. Until I wed Alys, of course. She will always be first in everything I do.”
“Then I will leave you to your task. Tybalt awaits me.”
“Go to him, Thea. May the Christ be with you and yours.”
“We will see you for the Christmas season,” she promised. Then with another flash of a smile, she left him.
Kit pulled the betrothal contracts from where they rested inside his gypon and went to find the largest fire possible, a grin on his face. He couldn’t wait to ride with all haste to Kinwick.
And Alys.
Chapter 18
Alys longed to reach home. She wanted this miserable trip to be over. Each league she traveled took her further away from a life with Kit. She said little to the men in her escort party, and they had left her to her own thoughts when they stopped for a meal or made camp to sleep for the night.
She noticed these Brentwood soldiers differed from her father’s at Kinwick. Geoffrey de Montfort set a high value on men who performed their duties to perfection. Her escorts seemed lax to her. Alys had watched two of them cut corners when they were assigned to a task. At least no problems had arisen on the road. Thank goodness, they would arrive at Kinwick before tomorrow’s noon meal.
The gr
oup bedded down for the night. Alys drew a light blanket over her and turned toward the fire. She listened as two men were ordered to stand guard on the first shift. It concerned her that the pair seemed to her to be the laziest in the group of soldiers. She wanted to warn the captain in charge of the escort party, but she didn’t feel it was her place.
Alys lay awake a long time. Gradually, the snores from the other sleeping soldiers lulled her to sleep.
Suddenly, she awakened, her senses on high alert. Her eyes darted around the camp. She saw shadows moving. Alys reached for the blade inside her boot and silently pulled it from its sheath as she rotated onto her back. At once, a heavy weight sank on top of her. A rough hand covered her mouth, while another one clutched her throat. She must act fast.
With his arms stretched out to restrain her, the man above her was vulnerable. Alys slammed her knife into his throat and twisted it. He grunted. Hot blood poured from her attacker’s wound, spilling onto her chest and throat. The man collapsed, his weight crushing her. Her belly roiled as the tinny smell of blood invaded her nostrils. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to push him off and failed.
A noise sounded. Alys turned her head to see what happened. The shadows now slipped through the camp. She saw the glint of steel reflected in the faint firelight as throats were slashed. Within seconds, the onslaught ended. A chuckle broke the silence.
Fury poured through her. It gave Alys the strength to push off the dead weight of her attacker. She rolled and came to her feet, grabbing the sword of the dead Brentwood soldier who had lain next to her. She dashed and ran it through one man. Then another. She lifted it again only to have someone from behind wrap thick arms around her, pinning her arms to her side. Alys struggled but couldn’t shake the man off. He tightened his grasp. She found it hard to breathe.
Someone ripped the sword from her fingers. A voice said, “She done killed ’em, Carac. Three be dead.” Alys heard astonishment in the man’s voice.