Roger was a direct descendant of Norman adventurers who arrived in southern Italy as early as 999AD and gradually became rulers of major duchies south of Rome.
He sired five illegitimate children, among them Simon of Moline, who in 1144 became Prince of Taranto.
Roger’s sister Nicolina and niece Francesca are figments of my imagination.
ISLAMIC SICILY
The Emirate of Sicily was an Islamic state which existed from 831 to 1072. Its capital was Palermo.
Muslims seized control of the entire island from the Byzantine Empire in a prolonged series of conflicts from 827 to 902. The Emirate was conquered by Christian Norman mercenaries under Roger I of Sicily, Ruggero’s father.
Sicilian Muslims remained citizens of the Kingdom of Sicily, until those who had not already converted were expelled in the 1240s. Even up until the late 12th century Arabic-speaking Muslims formed the majority of the island’s population. Their influence remains in some elements of the Sicilian language.
WILLIAM OF LORITELLO
The count survived Ruggero’s wrath when Termoli later fell to the Sicilian king, but was stripped of his lands and titles.
KEGEL
In Germany, in the 3rd or 4th century, monks played a game with a kegel which was a club carried for self-defence. In the game, the kegel represented a sin or temptation and the monks would throw stones at it until they knocked it over. The modern German term for skittles is Kegelen.
THE PALE MOUNTAINS
This UNESCO World Heritage range is known today as the Dolomites, but that name didn’t come into existence until the 18th century. French mineralogist Déodat Gratet de Dolomieu (1750-1801) was the first to describe the pale mineral rock.
PADUS (Latin)
The River Po is Italy’s longest and flows eastward across northern Italy.
PRESERVING BODIES
The use of strips of wax-impregnated cloth (cerecloths) to wrap a body was so prevalent in the Middle Ages, cerement became a synonym for grave cloths.
About Anna
Thank you for reading Courageous Heart. If you’d like to leave a review where you purchased the book, and/or on Goodreads, I would appreciate it. Reviews contribute greatly to an author’s success.
I’d love you to visit my newly revamped website and my Facebook page, Anna Markland Novels.
Tweet me @annamarkland, join me on Pinterest, or sign up for my newsletter.
Passion conquers whatever obstacles a hostile medieval world can throw in its path. My page-turning adventures have earned me a place on Amazon’s All-Star list.
Besides writing, I have two addictions-crosswords and genealogy, probably the reason I love research.
I am a fool for cats.
My husband is an entrepreneur who is fond of boasting he’s never had a job.
I live on Canada’s scenic west coast now, but I was born and raised in the UK and I love breathing life into European history.
Escape with me to where romance began.
I hope you come to know and love my cast of characters as much as I do.
I’d like to acknowledge the assistance of my critique partners, Reggi Allder, Jacquie Biggar, Sylvie Grayson and LizAnn Carson.
More Anna Markland
If you prefer to read sagas in chronological order, here’s a handy list for the Montbryce family books.
Conquering Passion—Ram and Mabelle, Rhodri and Rhonwen
If Love Dares Enough—Hugh and Devona, Antoine and Sybilla
Defiant Passion-Rhodri and Rhonwen
A Man of Value—Caedmon and Agneta
Dark Irish Knight—Ronan and Rhoni
Haunted Knights—Adam and Rosamunda, Denis and Paulina
Passion in the Blood—Robert and Dorianne, Baudoin and Carys
Dark and Bright—Rhys and Annalise
The Winds of the Heavens—Rhun and Glain, Rhydderch and Isolda
Dance of Love—Izzy and Farah
Carried Away—Blythe and Dieter
Sweet Taste of Love—Aidan and Nolana
Wild Viking Princess—Ragna and Reider
Hearts and Crowns—Gallien and Peridotte
Fatal Truths—Alex and Elayne
Sinful Passions—Bronson and Grace; Rodrick and Swan
Series featuring the stories of the Viking ancestors of my Norman families
The Rover Bold—Bryk and Cathryn
The Rover Defiant—Torstein and Sonja
The Rover Betrayed—Magnus and Judith
Novellas
Maknab’s Revenge—Ingram and Ruby
Passion’s Fire—Matthew and Brigandine (2016) in Hearts Aflame
Banished—Sigmar and Audra (2016) in Sirens of the Northern Seas
Hungry Like De Wolfe—Blaise and Anne—Kindle Worlds
An Unkissable Knight—Dervenn and Victorine in The Kissing Bough
Caledonia Chronicles (Scotland – The Stewart Kings)
Book I Pride of the Clan—Rheade and Margaret
Book II Highland Tides—Braden and Charlotte
Book 2.5 Highland Dawn—Keith and Aurora (a Kindle Worlds book)
Book III Roses Among the Heather—Blair &Susanna, Craig & Timothea
The Von Wolfenberg Dynasty (medieval Europe)
Book 1 Loyal Heart—Sophia and Brandt
Book 2 Courageous Heart—Lute and Francesca
Book 3 Faithful Heart—Kon and Zara
If you like stories with medieval breeds of dogs, you’ll enjoy If Love Dares Enough, Carried Away, Fatal Truths, and Wild Viking Princess. If you have a soft spot for cats, read Passion in the Blood and Haunted Knights.
Looking for historical fiction centered on a certain region?
English History—all books
Norman French History—all books
Crusades—A Man of Value
Welsh History—Conquering Passion, Defiant Passion, Dark and Bright, The Winds of the Heavens
Scottish History—Conquering Passion, A Man of Value, Sweet Taste of Love, Caledonia Chronicles
European History (Holy Roman Empire)—Carried Away, Loyal Heart
Danish History—Wild Viking Princess
Spanish History—Dance of Love
Ireland—Dark Irish Knight
If you like to read about historical characters:
William the Conqueror—Conquering Passion, If Love Dares Enough, Defiant Passion
William Rufus—A Man of Value
Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy—Passion in the Blood
Henry I of England—Passion in the Blood, Sweet Taste of Love, Haunted Knights, Hearts and Crowns
Holy Roman Emperors—Carried Away, Loyal Heart
Vikings—Wild Viking Princess, The Rover Bold, The Rover Defiant, The Rover Betrayed, Banished
Kings of Aragon (Spain)—Dance of Love
The Anarchy (England) (Stephen vs. Maud)—Hearts and Crowns, Fatal Truths, Sinful Passions
Scotland’s Stewart Kings—Caledonia Chronicles
Jacobites & Mary, Queen of Scots—Highland Tides
Link to Amazon page
Jewel of the East
The Devil DeVere #5
Victoria Vane
If I had chosen thee, thou shouldst have been
A virgin proud, untamed, immaculate
Chaste as the morning star, a saint, a queen
Scarred by no wars, no violence of hate
Thou shouldst have been of soul commensurate…
I would have had thee come of honored blood
And honourable nurture. Thou shouldst bear
Sons to my pride and daughters to my heart,
And men should hold the happy wise and good
Lo, thou art none of this but only fair,
Yet I love thee, dear, and as thou art.
-Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
“Can you keep a kiss to be enjoyed in age?
And would the free expense
of pleasure leave you penniless?
The day of love is short,
and every bliss
untasted now is a bliss thrown away.”
– Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Prologue
Bedford Coffee House, Covent Garden Square – 1765
“Sin! you grace us with your presence at last,” remarked DeVere. “We expected you an hour ago.”
“I had some unexpected business that required immediate attention.” Simon flipped back his coat skirts, spun the chair around to straddle it backward, and then pilfered Ned’s tankard. Draining it dry, he wiped his grinning mouth with the back of his hand.
“You refer to your endeavor with Jack Harris?” DeVere smirked. “I must say I admire the manner in which you’ve managed to employ your talents.”
“I only seek to raise a low and much-despised vocation to a higher level,” Simon replied.
Ned signaled the drawer to replace the drink Simon had pinched. “And what vocation would that be?”
“Has Sin not told you, Ned? He’s taken Harris’ directory of Covent Garden whores to poetic heights.”
Ned sat back, appraising Simon from beneath furrowed brows. “So, you’ve become a pimp?”
“My dear Ned, Harris provides a valuable service,” Simon protested.
“By vetting whores like racehorses? Bollacks!” Ned exclaimed.
“Come now, Ned,” DeVere protested. “Don’t be such a prig.”
Ned shook his head and took a pull on his drink. “A spade is a bloody spade—and a pimp, however poetically inclined, is still a pimp. Does Harris present this list of his right alongside the supper menu?”
“One should always contemplate desert,” DeVere quipped. “Have you perchance a copy, Sin? I am intrigued to see this infamous book.”
“As a matter of fact, I have the proof sheets.” Simon retrieved a bound bundle from his coat pocket and handed it to his friend.
DeVere slumped in his chair, gnawing his lower lip as he perused the pages. “Polly Nimblewrist?” He regarded Simon with a raised brow. “Really, Sin?”
Simon chuckled. “Some ladies prefer to adopt a colorful moniker to highlight their particular talents.”
DeVere flipped idly to another page. “Her gaze belies the flame within, and her mouth would tempt a saint to sin?”
“A well-earned accolade.” Simon winked.
DeVere’s mouth twitched. “It appears this so-called literary endeavor includes some perquisites?” DeVere continued to another page. “Do not venture where such danger lies, but shun the sight of her victorious eyes?” His gaze shot up.
“I should think that one is self-explanatory. At last report, she was frothing black saliva.”
DeVere shuddered and handed the pages back. “Mercury treatment is not a guaranteed cure for the pox.”
Ned asked, “Are you not still bound for the clergy, Sin?”
Simon heaved a deep sigh. “It is my dear mama’s fondest wish for me to join the church, but I have searched deeply, and cannot seem to summon an inkling of pious sentiment. I fear my nature is quite incompatible with a theological vocation.”
“Even so, why would you wish to dirty your hands with something like this?”
“The answer is simple, Ned—I need the money.”
“But you receive a more than adequate allowance.”
“—That he mostly squanders on women of easy virtue,” DeVere drawled.
“Admittedly,” Simon confessed, unabashed. “But now my father has reduced my quarterly and demands a full account of every ha’penny. I tell you, it is humiliating in the extreme! Unless I wish to live under such a yoke for the next three years—which I positively do not—I must make my own living. And if I must travail for my bread, how better than by the fruits of my pen?”
“So you seek to combine your love of poetry and lewd women by writing poetry about lewd women?” Ned replied dryly.
Simon clapped Ned on the back. “Precisely! Don’t you see the ironic beauty of it?”
“What do you suppose will happen when your dear, devout mama gets wind of this?” Ned asked.
“I have taken every precaution to ensure my anonymity.” Simon retrieved the book from DeVere. “My contribution to this little work is, and shall forever remain, a well-kept secret.”
Ned’s gaze suddenly dropped to the contents of his tankard. “Speaking of secrets…
“What the devil is it, Ned?” Simon asked.
“I was waiting for the right moment…” Ned shook his head. “There’s no easy way to say this…”
“Out with it,” DeVere demanded.
Ned drew a great breath, then blurted, “Wish me happy, my friends—for I’m to be wed.”
DeVere hissed. “The devil you say!”
“It’s true,” Ned replied. “I have been blessed with the hand of Miss Annalee Marsdale.”
“Bloody Hell!” DeVere scrubbed his face. “I can’t believe I’m even hearing this. The three of us were to go on the Grand Tour together. You would give that up? I have to question the judgment of any man who willingly subjects himself to such an affliction.”
“Hang it all!” Ned exclaimed. “Love is not a choice one makes, DeVere. It is a force of nature apart from our will.”
DeVere looked to Simon. “Mayhap you can interpret this poetic babble, for surely I can’t comprehend his language!”
Simon smirked. “You only scoff because you’re a stone-hearted rogue who has never experienced the rapture of true love’s embrace.”
DeVere opened his snuff box with a flip of his thumb. “Being the debauched creature that I am, I’d much prefer the magic of her mouth.” He took a pinch. “That’s precisely the cure for this affliction, Ned. Just tumble the chit and purge yourself.”
Ned’s jaw twitched dangerously. “She’s a virtuous girl, DeVere, not some Covent Garden strumpet.”
“There’s much to be said for a good strumpet,” Simon said.
“Indeed,” DeVere agreed. “And I think our friend here might be sadly in need of a thorough strumping to re-order his mind.”
“Enough!” Ned pounded a fist on the table. “It is done already. The first of the banns are to be called on Sunday. I only delayed my departure from town to tell you sods in person.”
“Begad!” DeVere cried. “I still can’t believe you’re serious!”
“As I live and breathe.” Ned rose to his feet with a thunderous look. “And I fear neither of you will remain living and breathing if I don’t excuse myself.”
DeVere held his silence until Ned was out of earshot. “We can’t let him do it, Sin.”
Simon shrugged and tossed back his drink. “Apart from locking him away, perhaps at Bedlam, I don’t see how we can prevent it.”
“That’s it!” DeVere cried.
“What diabolical notion have you in mind?” Simon asked.
“All in due time, my friend, but the first order of business is to get the poor misguided fool foxed to the gills.”
Simon awoke with the evil glare of sunlight striking his face and the throbbing awareness of an exploding head. Brigid, or was it Bronaugh, God love them both, lay blessedly naked on top of him. But weren’t the twins supposed to have been with Ned?
Where the devil was Ned? Simon turned his head to discover a particularly ugly foot beside his left ear. It was attached to an equally unappealing and hairy leg. Dear God, how much royal punch had they consumed?
The plan, of course, had been to hinder Ned’s departure long enough to convince him of his folly, but Ned had more than proven his head for drink. Simon and DeVere had raised so many cups extolling the various virtues of the bride-to-be that Simon feared he’d run out of lyrical allegories of her charms. He and DeVere had finally begun pouring their own glasses under the table for fear they’d pass out before getting Ned upstairs, where Brigid and Bronaugh awaited.
The twins had been easily conscripted into the game even before they got a vision of the strapping Ned Chambers. But the moment they’d got him into the chamber, the giant idiot had gone crashing to the f
loor like some great felled oak. At least they’d got him upstairs first.
The rest of the night was now a bit of a blur, but judging by the battered feeling of Simon’s body and his exploding head, it must have involved a great deal of physical exertion…and noise.
As Simon deliberated how best to extricate himself from the octopus-like tangle of four sets of limbs, a great shadow came over him. He looked up with a grimace.
“Ah, Ned. I was just wondering at your absence, though I doubt this bed could contain yet another.”
“Where are my clothes, Sin?” Ned demanded, his gaze a mere slit.
“Clothes?” Simon repeated blankly.
“Yes. Clothes.” He crossed his arms over his massive chest. “I seem to be devoid of any.”
Simon smirked. “However did you lose them?”
“I’m not in a humor for humor,” Ned replied. “Don’t make me drag your arse from bed.”
“It would be a wasted effort, for you’ll find I have no clothes either.” Simon chuckled. He raised the sheet that only partially covered the four bodies. “Indeed, none of us seem to have any.”
“Pox on you and DeVere both!”
Ned took hold of the sheet and gave a great tug that sent DeVere and Bronaugh—or was it Brigid?—tumbling to the floor with a respective thump, groan, and shriek.
Ned replied with a murderous look, “I need my clothes. I must be off to Yorkshire at once.”
DeVere sat up. “Still about that business, eh? Have you truly taken leave of all good sense?”
“My good sense tells me to take my leave of you!” Ned growled. “I will not humiliate Annalee by failing to appear for our betrothal announcement. For the last time, send for my clothes or you will both suffer the consequences.”
DeVere’s stony gaze flickered to Simon and then to the fists balled at Ned’s side. “I’m sorry, Ned. We just can’t do that.”
“I gave you fair warning, DeVere.” One of the twins cried out as Ned’s fist smashed into DeVere’s jaw, crumpling him to the floor. Ned massaged his fist “I won’t say I’m sorry.”
Romantic Legends Page 83