How to Train Your Knight: A Medieval Romance Novel (5 page)

“Fine. Call Bart for me. Where is he? I need my blasted tunic back.”

Hours later, he bid a final goodnight to his men. The fire in the great hearth had burned down to embers. Several men snoozed around it; others talked quietly. And yet many had retired to their pallets in the knights’ quarters. He mounted the staircase with eager anticipation. In one hand, he carried a plate of food, in the other a candle. He opened the door to his room, set the candle down upon a dresser, and approached the slit in their common wall. Whereas he had enjoyed a warm bath and fine meal, she was no doubt damp and hungry. The soreness in his heart might possibly have been a bit of guilt.

“Are you hungry?” He flattened a roll between his hands and passed it through the slit.

Straw rustled as she lifted off her pallet and bare feet pattered across the floor. “I’m starving myself. Remember?”

“Take the bread. Mayhap you can start starving again, tomorrow.”

She did as told and heaved a heavy sigh. Like feeding a caged animal, he slid meat and cheese through the slit. “More?”

“Is there more?”

He chuckled. “Aye, reach your hand through and I’ll put some figs in it for you.”

When she reached, he took her hand, put her soft flesh to his face and held it to his lips. “Lady.” It came out of him sounding like a holy word. His tongue circled the flesh between her fingers and she groaned.

“You take liberties.” She didn’t pull back her digits. If anything, she pushed them further toward him.

He wrapped both of his hands around hers. “Your hand is as cold as snow. Didn’t you light a fire in your room?”
Damn the woman
. Even if he managed to keep her fed, she’d die from the chill.

“No, my door has been locked and the fire has gone out, but your tongue is doing a fine job.”

Groaning, he let go. “Open the door. I can’t warm you well enough in this manner. Why have you not started your fire?”

“My fingers are a bit stiff and I’ve no peat.” She must’ve turned from him to stare at the useless hearth for he had to strain to hear her voice.

This godforsaken slit in the wall was chafing his patience. “I’ll have Bart fetch your maid. You could catch your death. Do you still remain in wet clothes?”

“How did you know I got wet?” Her minty breath surprised him again at the wall.

“I was in my room and I saw you get on your horse. When I went down to find you, you had disappeared. Where did you go, m’lady? How did you get out?”

“Your man let me out so I could go to confession and prayer,” the little liar said. “Then I went for a short ride to clear my head.”

He sighed. At least he didn’t have to admit he’d followed her all day. “I’d come in and help you with your fire. I’d warm your whole body as I’ve warmed your hand if you’d, but let me.”

“Mayhap just a fire, for now. I feel safer with the wall between us.”

“We will talk more, I promise. First, open your door for my servant. I give you my word, as a knight, I’ll stay here in my room. No harm will come to you.”

“I must admit, some warmth would be a great comfort.”

He opened his chamber door and called out, “Bart.”

“Aye, m’lord. I’m right here.” He stood red-faced while Sally sat nearby, looking flushed and well-kissed. He’d need to take the boy aside before things went too far.

“Help Sally bring up some warm furs. Lady Ann will open her door. Make sure she has plenty of fuel for her fire.”

Bart grinned and winked at the maid. “We’ll have everything upstairs in just a moment.”

Marcus paced across the floor and called into the slit. “Sally is coming.”

“Thank you.”

“Dammit. You don’t need to be a prisoner. I’d have normal relations with you.”

“Can you promise you don’t need to hang me, on your word as a knight?”

“Did you kill your first husband?”

“Thank you for your kindness in seeing to my comfort,” she said in a cool tone and moved away from the wall.

Damn his oath to Edward and the one to his father as well. Damn honesty. Damn chivalry. He slammed his fist onto a small table, smashing it to the floor. He’d need stronger furniture or a better temperament very soon. How the hell was he ever going to get her to open up?

He heard tromping up the stairs, giggling, and knocking on wood. Of course, she opened the door to them.

“Move along,” said Sally. “Our lady is all, but frozen solid. Poor dear. We’re hurrying, truly we are. The peat is damp and hard to light. There. I’ve got it. You go on so I can help her undress.”

His squire grumbled something about bossy women and when Marcus opened his door, the good lad had stationed himself in the hall.

Back at the slit, the two women spoke quietly in front of the hearth with their backs to him. It wasn’t long before the wooden bolt slid across the oak door and then silence.

“Lady?”

There was no response.

How long could he survive with a rock-hard rod? He tossed and turned for what seemed like an eternity until finally he slept, dreaming of his dark-haired beauty.

Chapter 5

Marcus was up and comfortably saddled before dawn the next day. When his wife appeared from out of the bathhouse, the sun had not yet appeared, but a soft yellow light had spread across the sky.

“Not a word from you.” He eyed Charles with suspicion. The stable lad responded with a wide-eyed nod, just as she ran across the green and into the church.

“I’ll be right back. Keep Midnight in readiness.” He dismounted and gave his disappointed horse a pat on the rump. Entering the stone abbey by the back door, he was surprised to land in the monk’s quarters. The sparse room held a table, a clay lamp, two pallets, a hearth, and some furs. James, kneeling quietly in prayer, stood slowly, frowned, and regarded him with a furrowed brow.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’d like to join the mass unseen.” Marcus held palms open and up.

“What’re you up to, Blackwell? I’m not sure we’re on the same side. Lady Ann has been like a daughter to me and the manner of your wedding pleased me not.”

“Truly?” He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve yet to even enter relations with her. I’m the one who should be affronted. She’s the one who’s dressed as a lad, running about like a wild hellcat. I’m merely watching out for her safety. How does the church allow it?”

James regarded him for a moment more and gave a quick nod. He led him down a narrow stone hallway to a pew set up behind the altar and out of view of the congregation. “Blessings upon you, my son. And good luck.”

No doubt the small hole in the altar had been made for the same reason he was using it. Lady Ann was seated in the back pew with her head in her hands, deep in prayer. He relaxed and let young Brother John’s litany of prayers roll over him.

Had he really been gone from the church so long that he’d forgotten the words? While away, he’d received communion as was available. Even when he attended mass, however, his mind was elsewhere, such as staying alive for another day.

He started a count of the number of times forgiveness was mentioned during the service. In the quiet, he found a moment for a rare prayer and hoped that God visited this church and was listening
. Please, if you’ve any fondness left for me, Lord, don’t make me have to hang her.

After mass was finished and breakfast needs attended to, Lady Ann headed back to the stable while he followed at a safe distance.

That evening, he didn’t even bother to keep up the pretext of dining with his people. “Would you head the table for me?”

Eyeing one of the young ladies in Ann’s tutelage, Thomas answered for once without wit. “I will if you see to it that the lady over there joins me.” He pointed out a maiden with long blond tresses, hid only by a thin veil.

“She’s a bit young, isn’t she?” Marcus motioned her forward with a wave of the hand.

“Unlike you, I’m a bit more of a traditionalist. I prefer not to have to retrain them.” He snickered and all, but drooled as she crossed the floor.

She lowered her gaze and curtsied. “What can I get you, m’lords?”

“Fill this plate for the Lady Ann and return back to me, promptly. What’s your name?”

“Lady Meredith.” She curtsied as a noble-born, dashed off to the kitchen, and returned with a full plate of food.

“Thank you. Sit here with my man, if you would be so kind. I feel the need to retire early and the table needs a mistress.”

The blond beauty turned a deep shade of red while Thomas grinned and mouthed, “I owe you.”

“Think nothing of it. I hope your wooing goes better than mine.” He turned to leave, but said as an afterthought, “She’s young, under my roof and my care. If you bed her, you best marry her.”

“Aye. I understand the rules with this one.”

He watched them make dove-eyes at each other for a moment. Then, from the hands of cupid, a pang of jealousy struck him.
Enough
. Shaking his head at his own fate, he trudged up the staircase. Long ago, he’d learned there was no point in wishing; better to concentrate on what lie in front for the taking. He tapped on the oak door. “I see you’ve had another busy day.”

Her voice came out muffled.

“Speak louder.”

His wife uttered a colorful oath under her breath and yelled back, “What say you?”

Uttering his own oath, he moved into his chambers and spoke into the slit at a more normal volume. “I saw you bring a book to the blacksmith. What was it?”

She came closer and her breath warmed the hole. “It was a mechanism book, with drawings on how to build another mill. Wouldn’t that be grand? What wonders of the world there are in books. I just wish I had more.” A long pause ensued. “Oh dear, I apologize. I don’t suppose you read?”

“I read Latin, English, French, Italian, and several versions of Aramaic,” he said with some pride. Let her chew on that for a moment.

“My goodness. Had I, but known. I’d have shown the book to you first. Of course, if I had opened my door . . . I mean . . . Well, damn it. Do you know how to build mechanisms or not?”

He chuckled. “I’ve been known to build some.” Most were war machines, but she didn’t need to know that. What a fascinating creature with a remarkable mind. He’d never known a woman to be so inquisitive about everything.

“How wonderful. I can’t wait to show you some of my findings. Eventually.”

His pulse raced. It’d been a long time since someone had admired him for more than his prowess with a sword. “I’d love to sit with you by the fire and hear you speak of anything at all.”

The lady’s sweet breath bathed his face with a minty fragrance. “Really?”

His throat dried and his pintle swelled under his tunic. “Aye.”

“Then why didn’t you just take me, today, instead of follow me? You could have insisted on your, ah, husbandry rights.”

Damn
. Her tone sounded wishful. If he’d only known. “I’d rather you come willingly into my pallet. I’ve had enough of wars. I’d have peace with you.”

She put her hand through the slit and he drew it across the rough stubble of his face. Kissing her palm, he trapped her with his lips. Was his headstrong wife ready to recant?

“What is it that holds you back?” He held his breath. Would they join as one tonight?

“I’d not want you to have to choose between your vow to the king and my life.”

No, not tonight. “Will I have to?” Exhaling, his tone sounded overly gruff, even to him.

“I really don’t know.”

He let her withdraw her hand and fumed. How could she not know? His lust for her was driving him mad and his patience snapped like a twig. “I saw one other strange thing while watching you today.”

“You did?” She sounded alarmed.

Good.
“Can I come in and discuss it?” To refuse him tonight, wasn’t an option.

Her voice moved further away from the slit in the wall. “I fear what you saw puts my life further in danger.”

With back straight, she sat on the edge of her pallet, facing a small fire in the hearth. He willed her not to move out of his narrow view. “Why don’t
you
tell me about your day?”

“Mayhap you should tell
me
what you saw and I’ll try to explain.”

“Very well. A game it is.” He leaned back away from the hole, shut his eyes, and remembered.

“I saw my lady wife dressed as a boy, with her legs sinfully exposed, ride to the home of a man and a woman who own a most unusual hearth.”

“Aye, that’s the home of the glazier.” The offender’s voice shook when she spoke.

“I thought as much. As unusual as that visage was, what happened next was more amazing. Would you like me to continue?”

“I can explain.” Light footsteps crossed the room.

Stone squished his nose when he put his mouth to the slit. “I saw my wife remove her tunic, leaving her in just a pair of men’s braies. These she discarded, leaving her clad in two tiny cloths. One wrapped her breast and one wrapped around her derriere.”

“You don’t under—”

“She had a knife fastened to each thigh, and one to her left forearm. Then, an equally clad Amazon came out of the house, into the clearing.” He pulled back, paced his small chambers, and gritted his teeth.

“My Lord, the house is well hidden in the woods. Nary has a soul ever come to visit. I can assure you, we thought ourselves alone. How could I know you were following me?”

His ears burned and his ire mounted. “Quiet. At least honor me sufficiently to stop interrupting. The two women engaged in what appeared to be a lesson in combat, the likes of which I’ve never seen. The woman of the house seemed to be the instructor while my wife was the student. Do you remember now?”

He lowered his voice and clenched fist over sword. Men shook when he was so enraged, but not so his wife. Oh, no. Did she beg for mercy? Did she plead to him for forgiveness?

No. She said nothing.

“The use of the knives was masterful, and wonderful to behold, but the acrobatics was even more astonishing. The women worked tirelessly for hours, twisting and feigning. They balanced on their hands and split their legs wide. Never in my life had I ever seen small knives used in such a fashion, by either male or female. My God, Lady. What were you thinking? If someone besides myself had come upon the scene, both of you could’ve been burned at the stake. Mayhap bound and stoned in the square in front of the church. There are laws and thou art not above them, despite what you may think. Woman can’t be found masterful to that extent. There are no exceptions unless thou art a witch.”

She hissed and her voice cut through the slit like a knife. “Oh no, sir. That is so very correct. Women should lie on their stomachs while their husbands take leather straps to them. And when they are finished, should thank them for the bloody welts covering their body. Women are to be beaten into submission by whatever man is deemed fit to be their master, and must succumb without will, until they are all, but . . ., but . . . dead.” Gasping, she said no more, but sniffed and her breath became uneven. Now and again, tiny moans escaped from her.

Her crying distressed him more than her anger. She must’ve slipped to the floor, because he could no longer see her through the hole. How the hell had she managed to turn the tide of his siege? “Please stop crying and talk to me.”

“I’ve said too much already.” She spoke between heart-wrenching sobs and gulps of air.

“Ann? By all that is holy, talk to me. My patience has worn thin. I’ll break down the damned door.”

“Go ahead. I’ll lie here and take whatever you force upon me. What choice do I have?”

He cursed. When the sobs subsided, he ran the perimeter of the town until he couldn’t help, but fall asleep, where within, an old battle raged until dawn.