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BOOK: Chris Karlsen - Knights in Time
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“Truly?” Hope shot through him. Finally, he had more than just himself to offer a lady. As

a child, he’d been an unwanted orphan, saved by Guy’s father. He’d been fed, clothed, and

sheltered through the kindness of the man. He’d grown to be a squire and taught the skills of a knight, skills that granted him a good life, but one in service to another, a barracks life, a

bachelor’s life. Today, with a budding career, he had the means to provide for a wife and children.

Now, he’d possess a nice place for her to live as well.

“Give us a day to get our clothes and personal things out. We’ll leave the rest, dishes,

furniture, all that stays.”

After all Alex had done for him, it was time to do what his conscience told him should’ve

been done weeks ago. “I have a confession. I owe you an apology.”

Alex laid a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you think to apologize for, don’t. We’re good

friends and that’s enough, that’s all I need to know.”

Did Alex suspect what he intended to say? How? Had his resentment been so obvious?

Embarrassment piled onto guilt and added to his determination to explain.

Stephen stepped to the side, out from under Alex’s hand and faced him. “This needs said.

From the moment I learned I was blind and until short weeks ago, bitterness snaked within me. I dwelled on what happened at Poitiers and your warning. When I saw Marchand on the battlefield,

I hesitated and was struck down. I blamed you. I told myself had I not been warned I wouldn’t

have hesitated.”

“Stephen—”

He gave a small shake of his head. “I told myself, I might’ve won. It took time for the

truth to sink finally in...if my victory was the destined outcome, you wouldn’t have needed to warn me.”

“Stephen, you don’t—”

“Allow me to finish. Esme saw my anger and told me it was misplaced when you’ve done

nothing but help me. She reminded me, if I’d been granted such knowledge, I’d have done the

same. She was right of course, but I wouldn’t admit it at the time.”

It was his turn to put a hand on a friend’s shoulder. “Because of you, I live. Because I

live, I have Esme. Thank you.”

Someone opened the door. “Hey, what are you two in here gabbing away about? Come on

and join the rest of us,” Shakira said.

The three of them came back into the drawing room. “Esme?” Stephen wasn’t sure

where she sat.

“Yes,” she said from the other club chair.

Stephen went to where she sat, clasped her hands and tugged her up. “Esme—” He

brought her hands to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers, then squared his shoulders and said, “I couldn’t ask you sooner, not until I had something to give other than myself. Alex and I have talked. He assures me that I have a good future and I’ve no need to rely on Ian and

Miranda’s charity for a place to live. He’s also offered to rent me the cottage and perhaps in the months ahead even sell it to me. But, I don’t want it to be just for me.” He dropped to one knee.

“I would be honored to have you share my life and make it
our
home.”

To his left Electra squealed. To his right, Miranda and Shakira both said, “Aw,” in unison.

“Oh my. I...I...I don’t want to misunderstand. Are you asking me to live with you or

more?”

“Forgive my clumsiness. I’ve never asked a lady for her hand in marriage before. I love

you. Were you to accept this humble man, you’d make me the happiest man in the land.”

She locked her arms around his neck. “Yes, yes, yes,” she said quickly, running the yes’s

together, and tightened her embrace.

He looped his arms around her waist and uncaring of those watching, kissed her

thoroughly. When he finished, they broke apart to welcome the well wishes of their friends who

gathered around them.

“I’m going to grab a couple of bottles of champagne from the cottage. I’ll be right back,”

Alex said.

“Speaking of the cottage, Esme, can I have your flat?” El asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but it’s too late. I promised it to Roger. I had no idea Stephen planned to

buy the cottage, but he recently mentioned moving someplace else.” She wrapped her arm around

his waist and gave him a little squeeze. “Since I’ve been staying here a lot, I told Roger if I moved in with Stephen, he could have my place.”

“Damn.”

“There’s nothing special about it. You have your own flat. Why did you want to take mine

over?”

“For the kitchen. My flat has that itsy-bitsy one. Yours is twice the size, and I need a

bigger one. I’m starting chef’s school.”

“El, that’s wonderful,” Esme said. “You’ve talked about going to chef’s school for a long

time.”

Roger, who’d been standing next to Stephen joined in and offered, “If I may interrupt.

Milady Electra, I have no need for a big kitchen. It would be my pleasure to find another place.”

“Oh, my God. You called me ‘milady,’ how cool is that? My place is very close to here.

You’d like it. But you have to let me compensate you in some way for giving up the better flat.”

“It would be dishonorable for me to accept money from you, milady. I will take no

compensation.”

“I’m not offering money Roger Louis Philippe, I meant an exchange of services.”

Esme choked and loudly cleared her throat, while Stephen patted her on the back. “Shall I

fetch you some water?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Services? What sort of services?” The lusty interest in Roger’s upbeat tone crystal clear.

“I’ll teach you to drive. And...as I learn to prepare different dishes, I’ll have you over and

practice making them for you.”

Stephen grinned in Marchand’s direction. “Still wish you could go back, Roger?”

“No. The merits of being where I am grow daily. Sweet, Electra—,”

“Call me El, everyone does.”

“I prefer to call you Electra. Sweet Electra, I accept. Allow me to seal our bargain.”

Electra gave a tiny chirp. “Oh my god, you kissed my hand. Wow. What are you doing for

dinner tomorrow, R.L.P.?”

“Bold creature, R.L.P. it is now? Well milady, I shall be enjoying a bottle of fine wine,

French, of course, with you in your tiny kitchen.”

“Interesting turn of events,” Stephen whispered to Esme.

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“I wish Roger as much fortune in love as I have.” He kissed Esme’s temple.

“I would share that wish for El.”

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Stephen pulled her into an embrace.

“It’s been at least five minutes. You’re overdue.”

“If French is the language of love, then let me say,
je t’aime.
I prefer to speak in the language of my heart. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

End

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Table of Contents

Copyright

4

Other Stories by Chris Karlsen

4

Acknowledgement

4

Dedication

4

Chapter One

143

Chapter Two

143

Chapter Three

143

Chapter Four

143

Chapter Five

143

Chapter Six

143

Chapter Seven

143

Chapter Eight

143

Chapter Nine

143

Chapter Ten

143

Chapter Eleven

143

Chapter Twelve

143

Chapter Thirteen

143

Chapter Fourteen

143

Chapter Fifteen

143

Chapter Sixteen

143

Chapter Seventeen

143

Chapter Eighteen

143

Chapter Nineteen

143

Chapter Twenty

143

Chapter Twenty-One

143

Chapter Twenty-Two

143

Chapter Twenty-Three

143

Chapter Twenty-Four

143

Chapter Twenty-Five

143

Chapter Twenty-Six

143

Chapter Twenty-Seven

143

Chapter Twenty-Eight

143

Chapter Twenty-Nine

143

Chapter Thirty

143

Chapter Thirty-One

143

Chapter Thirty-Two

143

Chapter Thirty-Three

143

Chapter Thirty-Four

143

Chapter Thirty-Five

143

Chapter Thirty-Six

143

Chapter Thirty-Six

143

Document Outline

 

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