A short distance away, the creek glinted, inviting her to stay and swim as she, Ash, and Edric had done long ago. So much had changed for all three of them since those days. While she despised Edric for all that he had done and had conspired to do, it had been difficult to see him chained and hauled away. He would be imprisoned in the town gaol before being taken to London for trial in the King’s Courts.
She’d promised to give the sheriff a full written account of all she knew about Edric’s deceptions, as had Ash and her sire. On her father’s insistence, though, they had agreed not to include any mention of the gold. He’d vowed that ’twas too dangerous, especially when they had no idea who would end up reading the accounts and whether those officials were trustworthy or not; ’twas safest to keep the treasure a secret. That still left her with plenty to write about. Edric must be held accountable for his selfishness and cruelty.
Brushing past her, Justin pointed to the creek. “Can I go down to the water, Uncle?”
“You may. See if you can find any fish.”
The boy ran across the field, his feet churning up loose dirt. She laughed, for she knew just how good it felt to be young and to race down to the water.
Ash entwined his fingers with hers; from the warmth in his eyes, he remembered, too.
“Show me where you found the ring,” her father said.
Together, she and Ash walked along the well-trodden foot path that had had been there as long as she remembered. She stopped partway and looked about. “’Twas somewhere around here.”
Her sire halted and gazed up at the standing stones. “The jewel must have been near the surface. ’Twas likely washed here by heavy rains.”
Beside her, Ash went very still. “You mean—?”
Lord Montgomery’s mouth curved in a knowing smile. “I have known about the riches for years, and have done my utmost to protect them.”
“You know where the treasure is buried?” Rosetta asked. How silly she now felt for keeping her finding of the ring a secret from him.
Her sire nodded. “’Tis under the fallen stone in the middle of the circle.”
“God’s blood!” Ash whispered. “To think how many times we have visited the stones, Rosetta, and had no idea what was beneath our feet.”
“How did you find it, Father?”
“Oh, I did not find it myself. Years ago, I hired a stonemason to repair Millenstowe Keep’s outer wall. I did not realize—and I would never have approved of it if I had known—but he and his three apprentices decided to use one of the standing stones. They managed to topple it over, but when they peered into the hole in the ground left by the stone, they saw gold. I happened to be inspecting fields that day, and the head mason ran to me, almost too excited to speak. When I saw the riches…” Lord Montgomery sighed. “I knew what a perilous situation had arisen. If word of the gold got out, my fields would be crowded with folk trying to find the hoard. My crops would be ruined, and there would be an increase in fights, thefts, and murders on my lands. More importantly, the gold could be used to manipulate the balance of power in England.”
“As it still can,” Ash added gravely.
“Aye. I remembered how things were when I wed your mother, Rosetta. William the Conqueror had taken control of England more than a hundred years earlier, but animosity between folk of Norman and Saxon bloodlines persisted. Some of the older folk longed for an armed rebellion to oust the Normans and return England to the way it had been under Saxon rule.”
“Surely the Normans had governed England for too long for there to be any chance of ousting them?” Rosetta asked.
“One would believe so, and yet, the old hatred was very real. The marriage between your mother, a Norman, and I, a Saxon, was arranged to help eradicate the animosity that lingered. While she and I resented the marriage at first, we soon fell in love, in part because we both believed in the importance of peace. I still believe ’tis the best thing for England—which is why I want the riches to remain in the ground. Of course, every now and again, a bit of gold is discovered, which renews interest in finding the hoard, but luckily, most folk are convinced by now that the rumors of great riches are no more than tales.”
“I understand, Father, but how did you keep the stonemasons from talking about their find? Surely they would have told their friends.”
“I paid them very well to fill in the hole where they had found the riches and to move the stone to cover it. A few pieces of gold likely did not get buried very deep, such as your ring. I also ordered them to leave Warwickshire, and threatened to have them arrested if they were seen in this area again.”
“So far, your plan has been successful,” Ash noted.
“I pray it remains so. I do have more men patrolling this area than other parts of my estate, and they have orders to ward off anyone who is too curious about the stone circle. I also inspect the monument every month or so, to ensure all remains in order.”
“I will never reveal where the gold is hidden,” Rosetta said.
“Nor will I,” Ash said.
“Good.” Lord Montgomery glanced down the field to where Justin stood knee-deep in the water. “I suppose I should go and keep him from getting thoroughly muddy and soaked.”
Laughing, Ash said, “You can try.”
“We will see how I have done when I return with him.” Lord Montgomery’s smile turned knowing once again, and his eyes sparkled. “By then, you two also might have some news for me.”
“News?” Rosetta asked.
Her father winked and strode away down the path.
She frowned at Ash. “Am I the only one who has no idea what he meant?”
Ash chuckled. “Do not be upset. You will know soon enough.”
***
As Ash tugged on Rosetta’s hand, excitement and dread warred within him. What he had to show her, to say to her, was important, and he didn’t want to muddle his words.
Ah, God, but if she recoiled in horror…
He forced his disquiet aside as hand in hand, they walked to the stone circle. He gestured for her to sit on the flat stone, and when she did, he sat down beside her. The breeze whispered through the stones, stirring her hair and lending her cheeks a rosy flush.
She fingered windblown hair from her cheek, while he leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. He clenched and unclenched his gloved hands, easing some of the pain that remained from the swordfight earlier. How did he begin? He couldn’t just blurt out what he wanted to say; he was a chivalrous knight, after all.
“This place is very special to me,” Ash finally said, tracing a seam on his glove with his thumb.
“To me as well.”
“I knew it had to be the place where…” He looked down at the ground by his boots.
“Where the treasure was buried?”
“Nay, where I…” He took a steadying breath and then caught hold of the fingers of his left glove. And pulled.
As sunlight touched his bare hand, revealing the lines of scarring, misshapen flesh, and buckled skin, a hard knot of revulsion filled his throat. His other hand was just as awful. He was hideous. Monstrous. Whatever had made him think she would want to see him the way he was now?
She made a small sound—one of distress, no doubt. He should spare her any more horror. His hands shaking, he struggled to put his glove back on, but her hand closed over his, stopping him.
Her skin was smooth against his damaged flesh. Smooth. Soft. Warm. A despairing laugh welled within him. How long had it been since he’d felt anything with his hand apart from the inside of his glove?
He dared to glance at her, and tears glistened in her eyes.
“I apologize,” he muttered. “I thought ’twas best… I wanted…”
“I am glad you showed me,” she whispered.
“You were right. ’Tis who I am now.” The urge to yank his glove back on, to hide his disfigurement, rose within him to near panic. “I wanted you to know…to see…”
She curled her fin
gers through his, drawing a groan from him. Then she brought his hand to her lips and kissed it.
He gasped, stunned, as she gently, lovingly kissed his scars, his fingers, and his palm. Then, setting his hand on her skirt, she carefully removed his other glove. How liberating it felt to feel the leather slip away and the fresh breeze cool his skin. How wondrous her touch felt. “You are not appalled by my hands?” he rasped.
“Why should I be?” she said with a tearful smile. “You are even more of a hero to me now than you were years ago.”
“I am scarred.”
“So am I, in my own ways. Neither of us is the same person we were years ago.”
“But—”
“I am very proud of the man you have become, Ash.” Tears trailed down her cheeks as she whispered, “I love you. I always will.”
He dropped to his knees on the dirt and took her hand in both of his. He had to ask her; he couldn’t wait a moment longer. “Rosetta, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
She quivered in his grasp. How he hoped she wasn’t readying to turn him down.
“I promise I will be a good husband to you. At the tavern, while you were speaking with the sheriff, I asked your father for your hand in marriage. He granted me permission to wed you.”
She sniffled. “Oh, Ash—”
“I love you, Rosetta. Please say you will be my wife. Please.”
She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “I will.”
Joy surged through him. He kissed her back, his tongue delving into the warmth of her mouth. Their kisses deepened, slowed, reaffirmed their long ago promises to one another that they would be together forever.
At last, Rosetta sighed against his mouth. Drawing back slightly, she mock frowned at him. “You realize I have just agreed to be both a wife and a mother.”
“True.” Ash’s brows rose. “Are you changing your mind?”
“Not at all. I adore Justin.”
Grinning, Ash said, “He is going to be thrilled.”
Her smile softened. “Not as thrilled as I am, by far.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again, and with a lusty growl, Ash sank his right hand into her tresses. Coolness. Silken softness. True love.
God’s blood, but he was a lucky man.
Epilogue
The town of Clipston
Warwickshire, England, Late August, 1192
Adjusting her grip on the reins of her white mare, Rosetta raised her veiled head, smiled, and waved to the cheering crowds on either side of the town street. The musicians, walking ahead of her and her six armed guards, played a merry melody on flutes, pipes, and a tabor as they led her toward the stone church in the town square.
There, Ash would be waiting for her.
There, they would be joined in holy matrimony, with Justin, Herta, her parents, de Wolfe uncles, and dear friends as witnesses. Afterward, the guests would be carted to Damsley Keep for a sumptuous feast, dancing, and boisterous celebration that would carry on long into the night.
Excitement tingled through Rosetta as she smoothed the folds of her mother’s sumptuous blue cloak embroidered with the de Wolfe family crest. The shimmering pale gold of her new wedding gown, specially made by a local tailor, peeked from underneath. She’d chosen gold because the color reminded her of the buried treasure, of love, and of sunlight, including the afternoon sunshine in which she’d first seen Ash’s damaged hands—and that had warmed her and Ash as they’d professed their undying love for one another.
How she loved him, with every bit of her heart and soul.
“Milady! Milady.” Peasant children ran alongside her mare and offered her bouquets of wildflowers. Murmuring her thanks, she took them and tucked them under the front of her saddle, beside the ribbon-wrapped bouquet of wild roses that she’d found in her chamber at Millenstowe Keep, where she had lived while counting down the days until she married Ash. She knew without doubt that he had sent the flowers to her, and she hadn’t wanted to leave them behind, especially when they matched the crown of wild rose blooms holding her veil in place.
She continued to smile and wave as the procession continued through the streets, until at last, the church came into view. As she rode toward the portico, a shiver ran through her, for she felt so many expectant gazes upon her.
Ash, resplendent in an embroidered dark blue tunic, hose, and black knee-high boots, stood on the portico beside the priest who was holding a leather-bound book. Justin was a few steps away. The boy’s hair was remarkably tidy, and his garments were clean and new. Her heart warmed, for she could imagine the effort it had taken Ash to get the boy to look so groomed.
As she and Ash locked gazes across the short distance that separated them, delicious heat trailed through her, for tonight, she would lie with him and finally be his, as she’d always dreamed.
He grinned in that roguish, lop-sided way that made her stomach somersault, and she smiled back.
Rosetta’s parents were near the portico, too. Her mother, standing beside Rosetta’s uncles and wearing an exquisite green gown, smiled and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief; she might be of fierce de Wolfe heritage, but she cried at every wedding. Rosetta’s father stepped forward to take the mare’s reins and help her dismount.
She took the rose bouquet from her saddle and walked to the portico.
Ash winked at her. “Good day, Wife.”
“Good day, Husband.”
“What lovely flowers.”
“They are. My husband is a very thoughtful man.”
He smiled and slipped his fingers into hers. He hadn’t worn gloves since he’d taken them off at the stone circle, and she was glad.
As they took their places before the priest, her garments rustled, the sound akin to the wind whispering past the towering stones of the ancient monument. Her love for Ash had come full circle. She reveled in the joy that filled her heart, for no hidden riches could ever bring such happiness.
Indeed, the greatest treasure in her life was, and always would be, Ash.
About Catherine Kean
Bestselling, award-winning author Catherine Kean’s love of history began with visits to England during summer vacations. Her British father took her to crumbling medieval castles, dusty museums filled with fascinating artifacts, and historic churches, and her love of the awe-inspiring past stuck with her as she completed a B.A.(Double Major, First Class) in English and History. She completed a year-long Post Graduate course with Sotheby’s auctioneers in London, England, and worked for several years in Canada as an antiques and fine art appraiser.
After she married a tall, handsome, and charming Brit and moved to Florida, she started writing novels, her lifelong dream. She wrote her first medieval romance, A Knight’s Vengeance, while her baby daughter was napping. Catherine’s books were originally published in paperback and several were released in Czech, German, and Thai foreign editions. She has won numerous awards for her stories, including the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence. Her novels also finaled in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards and the National Readers’ Choice Awards.
When not working on her next book, Catherine enjoys cooking, baking, browsing antique shops, shopping with her daughter, and gardening. She lives in Florida with her husband, daughter, and two spoiled rescue cats. Visit her website at http://www.catherinekean.com
Also by Catherine Kean
A Knight to Remember (novella)
Bound by His Kiss (novella)
One Knight Under the Mistletoe (novella)
Knight’s Series Novels
A Knight’s Vengeance (Knight’s Series Book 1)
A Knight’s Reward (Knight’s Series Book 2)
A Knight’s Temptation (Knight’s Series Book 3)
A Knight’s Persuasion (Knight’s Series Book 4)
A Knight’s Seduction (Knight’s Series Book 5)
The Knight’s Series: Books 1-4
Boxed Sets
Enchanted by an Emerald (includes novella A Knight to
Remember)
Holding Out For a Medieval Hero (includes A Knight’s Persuasion)
Knights and Damsels (includes Dance of Desire and My Lady’s Treasure)
Magnificent Medieval Knights (includes A Knight’s Seduction)
Medieval Lovers (includes A Knight’s Temptation)
Medieval Mistletoe, One Magical Christmas Season (includes novella One Knight Under the Mistletoe)
Medieval Rogues (includes A Knight’s Vengeance, My Lady’s Treasure, and Bound by His Kiss)
A Knight's Desire--World of de Wolfe Pack Page 16