A Knight of Honor

• Reviews for Books by Laurel O’Donnell
  
• A Knight of Honor Copyright Information
  
• A Knight of Honor
  
• PROLOGUE
  
• CHAPTER ONE
  
• CHAPTER TWO
  
• CHAPTER THREE
  
• CHAPTER FOUR
  
• CHAPTER FIVE
  
• CHAPTER SEVEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHT
  
• CHAPTER NINE
  
• CHAPTER TEN
  
• CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
• CHAPTER TWELVE
  
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
• CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  
• CHAPTER THIRTY
  
• CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  
• CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  
• CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  
• CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  
• CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  
• CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  
• CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  
• CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  
• CHAPTER FORTY
  
• Thank You
  
• About the Author
  
• The Angel and the Prince Bonus Preview
  

Praise for A Knight of Honor

“The action never slows in this adventurous tale.”

- Romantic Times Magazine

Winner of the Holt Medallion Award for Best Medieval Novel

Praise for The Angel and the Prince

“Pageantry, excitement and high adventure brought to vivid life.”

- Flora Speer, author of FOR LOVE AND HONOR

“A wonderful debut, lush, sensual, and rich in history.”

- Jane Kidder, author of PASSION’S GIFT

“This extraordinary tale offers non-stop action, unforgettable characters and a sensuous romance, the likes of which ballads are written.
 
This romance will capture your heart and your imagination.”

- Rendezvous Magazine

“Wow!
 
A magnificent tale that builds tension till you want to explode!”

- Affaire de Coeur

Copyright © 2011 by Laurel O’Donnell

www.laurel-odonnell.com

Cover design by Hot Damn Designs!

www.hotdamndesigns.com

All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its author, Laurel O’Donnell.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously.
 
Apart from well-known historical figures, any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

by

Laurel O’Donnell

England 1340

T
aylor Sullivan wondered if her mother had gone mad.
 
No one in her right mind would be wearing a bright vibrant smile like the one that lit her mother’s lips, not in a situation like this one.
 
How could she smile in the face of such unspeakable horror? Taylor wondered frantically.
 
Her own body shook with fear.
 
She had to clasp her small hands tightly in front of her so her mother wouldn’t see her fingers trembling with terror and misery.

The black gown her mother wore contrasted sharply with her pale alabaster skin, making her flesh look almost ghostly white.
 
Her brown hair was tied back tightly into a thick braid that hung down the length of her back, dangling to and fro as she walked toward Taylor.

Dangling like a rope.

Taylor dropped her chin to her chest, unable to look at her mother’s radiant face.

“Oh, darling,” her mother murmured and reached for Taylor’s hands.
 
“Why such a sad face?”

Suddenly unable to control herself, Taylor hurled herself toward her mother, flinging her arms around her mother’s shoulders and hugging her as tightly as she could.

With a startled laugh, her mother returned the embrace.

Taylor squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that burned there.

Her mother stroked her hair calmly, reassuringly.
 
“Don’t worry,” she whispered.
 
“He’ll come for me.
 
I know he will.”

Taylor pulled back to look into her mother’s blue eyes.
 
They were glazed and had a faraway, dreamy look to them.
 
The blissful smile Taylor had seen on her mother’s lips when she first stepped into the room returned.

“He won’t let me burn,” she went on, even as the reflections of the room’s candles dancing in her eyes tortured Taylor with a vision of the terrible things to come.
 
Her mother turned to the window.
 
She placed her palms on the cold stone ledge of the windowsill and stared out into the early morning sky.
 
“We love each other far too much,” she whispered.

“Father?” Taylor wondered, a weak hope in her question.

Her mother laughed softly.
 
“No,” she said.

Taylor heard the door opening behind her and turned to see two guards standing in the doorway.
 
To a child of twelve, the two burly men looked like armor-plated giants.
 
The light threw deep shadows across their faces, transforming them into gruesome masks that made Taylor think of the ogres in the tales her mother had once told her.

“It’s time, m’lady,” one of the ogres called, his voice gruff and menacing to Taylor’s ears.

Taylor’s desperate gaze returned to her mother.
 
Her time was running out.
 
She had to stop this.
 
“No!” Taylor cried out, finally finding the strength in her voice.
 
“They can’t do this!”
 
She grabbed her mother’s arm, pulling her deeper into the room.

Her mother touched her cheek softly.
 
“He’ll come,” she reassured her and gently pried Taylor’s small fingers from her arm.
 
Then she stepped past her daughter, moving out the door.

Taylor watched her mother’s straight, tall form and wished that she could feel the confidence her mother voiced.
 
Then the two brutes stepped in behind her mother, forming a massive wall of muscled flesh and cold steel.
 
A sinking feeling grabbed hold of Taylor and pulled her deeper into despair.
 
She followed the procession into the hallway.
 
There was only one chance.
 
There was only one man who could stop this.

Taylor turned away and ran down an empty hallway, fully aware of the blossoming sky as the sun chased the darkness from the land, fully aware that the sun’s rays heralded her mother’s doom.
 
She couldn’t make her small slippered feet move fast enough over the stones of the corridor.
 
Her silk dress wrapped around her legs, inhibiting her hurried steps.

Finally, she halted before a closed door.
 
Her fear rose like a tidal wave to bathe her resolve.
 
But like a brave knight, she fought down her dread and lifted a hand to push the door open.

The room was dark except for a lone candle on a desk.
 
Taylor took a hesitant step forward.
 
She made out the shadowed form of a man sitting behind the large desk.

The man slowly lifted his dark eyes to her as she entered.

The wavering flame of the candle threw slashes of reddish-orange light over his face, casting demonic shadows across his brow.

Taylor knew she could not give up, despite every one of her senses telling her to run, beseeching her not to incur his wrath.
 
“Please,” she whispered.
 
“Show mercy.”

The man leaned back and his eyes disappeared completely into the darkness.
 
After a long moment, he rubbed his palms over his eyes.
 
“I loved her, you know,” he murmured.
 
“I gave her everything.
 
Everything she ever wanted.”
 
He shook his head, his gray hair swaying around his shoulders with the movement.