Ranulf shook his head. “No. The king will not want to be disturbed by this. Tomorrow I will request an audience and tell him, but he will not care. Property is no longer an issue. Craven was just a crazed common man who attacked. As a lord, I can decide if his fate was just. And I do. The king will agree. Besides,” Ranulf said with a grin, “we had other plans for celebrating Twelfth Night, did we not?”
Bronwyn bit her lip and cocked her brow impishly. “We certainly did.”
Epilogue
THURSDAY, JANUARY 6, 1154
EPIPHANY
Celebrated as early as 361 A.D., the Feast of Epiphany is the conclusion of Twelfthtide celebrations surrounding the birth of Christ. Gifts are exchanged representing the visit of the three Magi, though some believe the day originally celebrated Christ’s baptism. On Epiphany, festivities come to an end, decorations are removed, and the household returns to its normal state for the coming year. This day in Christmas history was dramatically affected by King Henry II, who discovered feasts and plays and new traditions when he invaded Ireland. A country rich with customs introduced the king to new ones, including Little Christmas or Women’s Christmas, in which the men assume the household duties while the women enjoy the day with their friends and family. Celebrated on Epiphany, this custom is also observed by other cultures and is becoming more popular in today’s world.
Ranulf took a deep breath and exhaled. The air was chilly, and as they continued north, it would only grow colder. But no one in their group cared, just as they did not feel the need to travel faster after their hurried journey to London. In the far distance, the crowded city could still be seen, but in another hour it would be out of sight and so would the afternoon sun.
They had left later than planned, mostly because of Luc Craven’s deadly end. Ranulf had visited the king early in the morning and it had gone much as he had expected. Meanwhile, Bronwyn had visited once more with the queen and was asked to prolong their visit one more day, but she had wanted to go home.
“I’m surprised you didn’t want to stay longer. Didn’t you like court, Lily?” Bronwyn finally asked, having wondered what happened last night after they had left, for her sister had been suspiciously quiet and contemplative.
“I loved court,” Lily sighed, “but I always dreamed it would be different.”
“There were several beautiful women. Were you a little jealous?”
“No…yes…I mean at first I was, but in the end, I realized that I don’t want to be like them. And worse, I realized that most believed I was. I’ve just been so sheltered, by Father, you—even Edythe.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have—”
“No,” Lily interrupted, “but do you know what I most enjoyed about last night?”
“What?”
“Announcing to them all that I am married and just who my husband is. You would not believe how many men and women of the court know Rolande.”
Lily turned to address Ranulf, who was riding silently, but listening, on the other side of Bronwyn. “And how good-looking. Many of the women were quite envious. You should have seen their faces,” Lily added with pride, sounding more like the little sister Bronwyn loved and endured. “I cannot wait until spring. I just know that Rolande and I will be happy like you and Ranulf.”
“I truly hope that you are,” Bronwyn said.
“Oh, we will be. I want it to be so, and I will defy anyone to let it be any other way,” Lily replied emphatically and then kicked her horse to ride up ahead.
Bronwyn sighed and shook her head. “I thought for a moment she had matured, at least a little.”
Ranulf laughed and said, “She has. She wants to go home!”
“And are you ready to go home?”
“Home,” Ranulf murmured, rolling the foreign word around in his mouth. “Always thought the idea implausible. A place cannot make you feel safe, happy—”
“And loved,” Bronwyn added.
“Or loved,” Ranulf repeated. “Then I met you. Wherever you are is my home.”
“So if I wanted to live in Normandy?”
Ranulf cocked his head in surprise and turned so that he could see her whole face. Seeing the mirth in her eyes, he responded in kind. “Or Scotland with your grandmother…even London.”
Bronwyn shivered. “I choose Hunswick,” she said, conceding.
Ranulf leaned over, picked up her hand, and kissed its back. “Then it is time to go home. Our home.”
The joy Bronwyn felt inside lit up her face. “Who knows, by next Christmas, we just might have someone else to share it with.”
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2010 by C. Michele Peach
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4201-2044-8
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
The Christmas Knight Page 39