Tate exhaled slowly and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her head against his lips for a gentle kiss. It was Kenneth, Stephen and Wallace’s signal to give them their privacy and the three of them pretended to go about their business. But neither Tate nor Toby noticed, lost in each other’s eyes. They began to walk towards the keep.
“Edward has assumed his full authority as king,” Tate told her softly. “Mortimer is no longer a threat.”
“What happened?”
Tate was gazing up at the four-story keep as he spoke, his exhaustion evident. But it was more than his expression; it was in his manner. As if everything he had been fighting for over many years had finally caught up to him. He had the look of a very weary man.
“Mortimer was taken to the Tower shortly after we captured him,” he said quietly. “He was executed two weeks ago in London.”
Toby looked at him, shocked yet relieved. “On Edward’s orders?”
“Aye,” he replied softly. “Edward is of age now and already a powerful king. When I left, he was convening Parliament and preparing his agenda.” His thoughts drifted to the fair-haired boy, now a fair-haired man. “He is strong and intelligent. He will do well.”
“And what about you?” Toby wanted to know. “Will you do well now that you are not fighting his cause?”
He looked at her and smiled. “I will always fight his cause,” he said as they reached the steps leading into the keep. “But for now, I believe I am entitled to my own life. I deserve it.”
“Is it over with Mortimer, then?”
“It is over.”
She smiled in return, setting Dylan to his feet when the boy squirmed to be put down. Tate drew her into his arms, watching as his twins resumed their attempt to steal their older brother’s wooden sword. He relished their screaming, delighted in the chase. Their voices were like music to his ears.
“We have missed you,” Toby laid her head on his chest as they watched the boys scramble. “I was so fearful that you would not return in time for the birth of this child.”
Tate put his hand on her belly, feeling the firmness. He caressed her tummy gently, savoring the results of their deep and committed love to each other. He kissed her deeply as he continued to rub her belly, a profoundly intimate moment between the two of them.
“I would not have missed it, not for anything,” he murmured. “And you know that I will always return to you, no matter what.”
The tears that she had kept at bay finally found their way to the surface. “Will you promise me something, then?” she whispered.
“Of course, sweetheart,” he wiped the tears streaming down her cheek. “Anything you wish.”
“Will you promise me that we shall never again be apart?”
He paused a moment. “If it is within my power, I swear we will never be parted. I have missed you as much as you have missed me. More, even.”
“Can you promise me that these wars for Edward’s throne are finished?”
In truth, he could not. There were stirrings in France that Edward had already made mention of. Tate knew that, at some point, he would find himself in France fighting for the king. But he would not tell Toby that, not now when she was so emotionally brittle.
He held her at arm’s length, gazing into her sweet face. “I can promise you that I will remain here for the birth of my fourth son and that we will live happily together for the rest of our lives.”
She wiped at her eyes. “It will be a girl.”
“I could only be more blessed. What name did we decide on again?”
“Arabella Mary.”
He nodded in recollection. “Ah, yes. Arabella Mary. And if it is a boy?”
“It will not be a boy.”
He grinned at her, knowing she had probably had her fill of little boys for the moment. “As you say, madam.”
She cocked her head, staring up into his handsome face. “It was a good attempt at changing the subject, but you will answer my question now.”
“About what?”
“Whether or not you are going to put away your dragonblade for good.”
He smiled at her and pulled her against him, feeling her big belly against his mail. “Do we have to talk about this now?”
Before she could retort, a scream went up as Dylan managed to steal Roman’s wooden sword. He toddled off as fast as his tubby legs would carry him but Roman was faster and grabbed hold of his brother, trying to wrest the toy from him. Alexander joined in the ruckus and between the two brothers, they managed to shove Roman to the ground. Like any small boy, Roman began to cry as his brothers fought over who would be the first to play with the toy.
At some point, Stephen had set Catherine down and she walked over to where her brothers were fighting; while Roman wiped the tears from his eyes, the twins started slapping at each other and the sword fell to the ground. Catherine calmly picked it up and walked away.
Tate and Toby watched with varied degrees of amusement and, in Toby’s case, exhaustion. Tate finally turned to his wife.
“Have they been like this since I left?” he asked.
She began nodding before he finished his sentence. “Since Dylan and Alex learned to walk about two months ago. This is constant.”
Tate put his hand on her belly again. “And another one on the way.”
Toby sighed wearily. “I can hardly stand the anticipation.”
He laughed softly and kissed his wife on the temple. “Perhaps one of these days we will finally take that trip to Rome I promised you so long ago,” he murmured. “That should give you respite from the chaos of our children.”
She shrugged as she watched the boys wrestle. “They are too young to be without their mother. As weary as I am, I would not want to leave them for any length of time.”
“Not even for Rome?”
“Perhaps someday.”
He smiled gently at her before moving to the writhing hoard of children with the intention of settling them down. Toby appeared as if she couldn’t take the squabbling another minute. Crouching on his haunches, he tried to reason with the twins. They responded by jumping on him, causing him to lose his balance and end up on his buttocks. As he fell back, Roman jumped into the melee and pounced on him. Tate laughed as he ended up lying on his back with three little boys atop him. Not to be left out, Catherine stood over them and swatted her brothers with the sword.
As Tate allowed himself to be pummeled by his toddlers, he couldn’t remember a time in his life when he was so completely happy. From the horrors of eight years ago to the delight of the day, every pain, every effort, had been worth the price. The road that had led him to Cartingdon those years ago had been the best path he had ever taken and he could have never imagined that the aggressive, rude woman with the strange name would become his very reason for living.
He eventually pushed himself up from the mass of boys. Toby was standing with Kenneth and Stephen in conversation a few feet away but Tate noticed that he was not alone. Catherine was standing next to him, the sword still in her hand, as she gazed up adoringly at her father.
Tate smiled and picked her up, his little angel, so sweet that all she had to do was look at him and he would melt away. She had that effect on all of the knights, particularly Stephen. The man positively adored her. Tate kissed her cheek as she wrapped her little baby arms around his neck. He took the sword from her so she would not put his eye out with it.
“Papa?” she put her little face in front of his so that she could look him in the eye. “Where did you go?”
He smoothed her curly dark hair out of her eyes. “I went to help someone.”
It was as much of an explanation as she could understand. “Did you help them?” she wanted to know.
“I did, angel.”
Catherine thought on that a moment. “Will you stay home now?”
He smiled gently. “I will stay home now.”
“Papa?”
“Aye, angel?”
“Will you si
ng the baby song?”
Tate’s grin broadened. He had dreamed of this moment his entire life. When Arabella Mary was born in January, he had two little angels to sing the baby song to.
To the sky, my sweet babe;
The night is alive, my sweet babe.
Your dreams are filled with raindrops from heaven;
Sleep, my sweet babe, and cry no more.
Seven years and three more children later, Tate finally took his wife to Rome. It was everything she knew it would be.
The End
The Dragonblade Series:
Fragments of Grace
Dragonblade
Island of Glass
The Savage Curtain
The Fallen One
About Kathryn Le Veque
Medieval Just Got Real.
KATHRYN LE VEQUE is a USA TODAY Bestselling author, an Amazon All-Star author, and a #1 bestselling, award-winning, multi-published author in Medieval Historical Romance and Historical Fiction. She has been featured in the NEW YORK TIMES and on USA TODAY’s HEA blog. In March 2015, Kathryn was the featured cover story for the March issue of InD’Tale Magazine, the premier Indie author magazine. She was also a quadruple nominee (a record!) for the prestigious RONE awards for 2015.
Kathryn’s Medieval Romance novels have been called ‘detailed’, ‘highly romantic’, and ‘character-rich’. She crafts great adventures of love, battles, passion, and romance in the High Middle Ages. More than that, she writes for both women AND men – an unusual crossover for a romance author – and Kathryn has many male readers who enjoy her stories because of the male perspective, the action, and the adventure.
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Word Of Honor
Knights Of Honor
Book One
By
Alexa Aston
Prologue
England—April, 1351
Merryn Mantel spotted Geoffrey de Montfort as she and her father rode through the bailey of Kinwick Castle. Her heart began beating fiercely. She hadn’t seen Geoffrey since the Christmas season. He’d grown even taller and more handsome. At ten and six, he already possessed a warrior’s strong build.
And this man was to be hers.
Following her father, she guided her horse toward Geoffrey and his parents, who waited to greet them. Merryn had spent many hours at Kinwick throughout her childhood. The de Montforts were their closest neighbors and her father and Geoffrey’s had been friends since childhood. The two men’s wish to unite their families would occur today when the betrothal contracts were signed.
Geoffrey smiled at her as she approached, his white teeth gleaming against his olive skin. They had been friends all of their lives, but during the last year Merryn had become aware of him in a different way. Every time she was in his presence, a dizzy feeling overtook her. Her pulse pounded rapidly. She wanted to dance with joy. Merryn knew she had fallen in love with Geoffrey.
She believed he felt the same about her.
Geoffrey helped her dismount. The feel of his strong fingers encircling her waist sent butterflies swarming in her belly.
“It’s good to see you, Merryn.”
“I’m happy to see you, Geoffrey. How is your training with Sir Lovel going?”
“He tells me that I’m the best squire he’s ever had. Of course, I’m the only squire he’s ever had.” Geoffrey laughed.
Merryn turned to greet his parents. “Good day to you, Lord Ferand, Lady Elia.” She curtseyed and kissed Elia’s cheek.
“Are the contracts drawn up?” her father asked.
“Everything has been prepared,” answered Lord Ferand. “Please, come inside the keep.”
Geoffrey took Merryn’s hand for the first time. His warmth enveloped her, calming her nerves. She gave him a smile and he squeezed her hand in return.
They followed their parents into the great hall. Her father had explained to her that the negotiations between their families had already been completed. Signing the contracts would signify the exchange of property between the two families and set the bride price. As the daughter of a baron, Merryn would improve her station since Geoffrey would become Earl of Kinwick one day. She would be his countess.
Her father and Lord Ferand seated themselves. The contracts had been laid out on the table before them. She watched as Geoffrey’s father dipped a quill into ink and scrawled his name across the bottom of the page. Her father followed suit.
The Kinwick priest, Father Dannet, awaited them. They would now exchange verba de future vows. Their promise to wed would be legally binding, as much as when they spoke their marriage vows to one another in the future.
The priest turned to Geoffrey. “You may speak, my son.”
Geoffrey’s fingers tightened on hers. He gazed down at her and said, “I pledge to all present my desire to marry this woman and I will maintain my promise according to God’s laws.”
“Have you provided the bride price to her family and has it been accepted?” the priest asked.
“Aye.”
Father Dannet turned to the men seated. “And have you agreed upon compensation to be paid in the event the bride or groom dies before they are wed in holy matrimony?”
“We have,” their fathers replied.
The priest looked back to Merryn and Geoffrey. “Then you may take your vows.”
They faced one another. Geoffrey took her free hand. She felt the strength and love that flowed from him into her.
“I, Geoffrey de Montfort of Kinwick, will take you, Merryn Mantel, to wed. This is my solemn vow.”
“And I, Merryn Mantel of Wellbury, will take you, Geoffrey de Montfort, to wed. This is my solemn vow.”
Geoffrey bent and brushed his lips softly against hers in their first kiss. He pulled away and Merryn wished the kiss could have gone on longer.
Her father rose and came toward them. He offered Geoffrey his hand and they shook to seal the bargain.
“I look forward to the day when I will marry you,” the priest told them. He excused himself, leaving only the immediate family in the room.
“Let us toast the happy couple,” Lord Ferand proclaimed.
Wine had already been poured. Lady Elia distributed a cup to each of them.
“We have joined our families,” her father said. “May Geoffrey and Merryn spend many happy years together and fill the halls of Kinwick with children.”
As Merryn drank her wine, she looked forward to the day she would become Geoffrey’s wife.
Geoffrey led Merryn from the great hall. Their parents had gone to the solar to visit, but he wanted to spend time alone with his betrothed. He would be leaving this afternoon and cherished the remaining time they would have together.
As he took her hand again, it surprised him how right it felt when he entwined his fingers with hers. Merryn belonged to him now. Nothing could ever change that. He was fortunate that his betrothed was kind to everyone she met and enthusiastic in everything she did. Merryn would make an excellent countess.
“Accompany me to the stables,” he said.
“You’re already ordering me about?” Merryn’s sapphire blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “And to think the ink isn’t even dry on our betrothal contract.”
“Since it’s a legally binding contract, we are as good as wed.”
Except for the consummation. But that would be another few years. He still had time to sow his wild oats before making Merryn his in every way.
“I read the contracts, Geoffrey.” He heard the exasperation in her voice.
“Of course, you did. I would expect nothing less from you, Merryn.”
“They said nothing about obeying.”
He hid the smile that threatened to show itself. “I believe that will be a part of our actual vows on the day we wed. I suppose you still have a little bit of time before you become a slave to my every command.”
In truth, he was delighted his wife-to-be could read, thanks to her indulgent father. Merryn’s intelligence and natural curiosity about the world around her had drawn him to her since they were children. Geoffrey knew he was blessed that theirs would be a love match, a rare exception to most noble marriages.
Her mind only played a part in his attraction to this young woman, who already showed signs of becoming a great beauty. As the sunlight fell on her hair, it brought out burnished red highlights and turned the curls a rich shade of chestnut. One day, he would run his fingers through those long, silky locks. Geoffrey looked forward to the many nights they would spend in bed and the children that would result from their love play.
They arrived at the stables. He led her inside, grateful that no stable hand was in sight.
“Did you bring Mystery a treat?” Merryn asked.
“Nay. My horse is already spoiled. I have a treat for you, instead.”
He watched the blush stain her cheeks and realized she thought he’d brought her here to kiss him. Geoffrey hadn’t planned to do so, but the thought made his manhood begin to stir.
“I want to show you a horse.” He led her past several stalls until they reached their destination. Her eyes lit up as she viewed the dark brown horse.
“Oh, what a beauty,” she exclaimed. She stroked the horse’s nose and scratched him between his ears. “But you already have Mystery, Geoffrey. Is this a new horse your father purchased?”
The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection Page 33