How to Train Your Knight: A Medieval Romance Novel (10 page)

“You didn’t know your previous husband in bed?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her lips.

“He couldn’t, um, rise to the occasion.” She gave a tiny giggle.

It was the first time he’d heard such a noise out of her. The sound was so charming that he laughed until his sides hurt. He pulled her to his chest and hoped he wasn’t tearing at his stitches. But even so, it was well worth it. He’d lain with his wife and found the treasure that’d he’d been searching for his whole life.

She smiled up at Marcus as he rose from the pallet. Although things ached and stretched in places she didn’t even know existed until tonight, she was truly happy. Odd that she couldn’t remember feeling that way before. He stoked the fire with an iron, and it crackled back to life. When the glow reflected on his magnificent naked form, her body ached to have him again.

Her husband walked over to the commode and found a cloth and wet it in the basin. When she realized he meant to wipe off the blood between her legs, she closed them and wrapped her arms around her breasts.

His hands gently pried them apart. “There will be no embarrassment between, us. Nothing that happened in here tonight was shameful. There was just a husband and a wife, with normal relations, going about the business of making heirs.” He smiled as he wiped her clean. “And if tonight was any indication, we’ll have many, many, children to tend to.”

She was struck dumb. Even after the deed was done, her beast was warm and tender. Surely, God had forgiven her for all her cursing and swearing and all the things that had brought her first husband into her life. “Marcus?”

“Aye?”

“I’ve a confession.”

He sat and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t care if you killed the old bastard. If he was still alive, I’d do it for you.”

“No, no. Although, that is a relief. That’s not what I wanted to confess. I fear I was the cause of your injury today.”

He rolled over on top of her and pinned her in place, but still did not appear angry. “You paid someone to kill me?”

“Of course not, but I was nonetheless responsible. I’ve had an understanding with Lord Abernathy. I gave him permission to steal my sheep.”

“You told him he could take
my
sheep?” The blackness of the night hid his form, but his breath warmed her face.

“Well, when I told him, they weren’t yours, they were mine. I had no choice. But still, I should’ve let you know about the agreement.” She squirmed out from under him and he let her go.

Sitting up on the bed, his palm rasped over his evening beard. “Why in God’s name would you let him steal your wool? That’s your bread and, butter.”

“He promised to keep the evil hoards at bay and away from our fields.” She groped for his hands and clasped them tight.

“There are no hoards, Ann, except for him.”

She sighed, pulling his caressing fingers to her lips. “I know that,” she whispered.

He kissed her face, pulled her down under the furs, and spooned around her with his mighty pintle hard against her back. “You’ve done an amazing job at running this estate, for a woman who knows little of the world. I’ll run things from now on.”

That’s rather what I’m afraid of
. But then no other thoughts were possible. He turned her, she spread her legs, and the heavens opened up again.

Chapter 7

Ann jumped up when the cocks crowed, then sat right back down.

Ow
. Inside, between her legs, pinched as if sitting on an arrow. She leaned back onto her pallet and stared at the beams crisscrossing her ceiling. Last night was real and not a dream. Had she truly screamed in ecstasy or was that him?

Sally knocked softly. “M’lady? Are you awake yet?”

“Yes, come in.” Scrunching her face at the aching within, she managed to sit upright.

“We need to get you up and dressed. The lord of the house is waiting to break his fast with you.” Sally smiled as brightly as the sun.

“Really? Why?”

She laughed, pulled the covers off, and giggled. “You would know better than I. In good spirits, he is. You must have cheered him up last night.”

Ann’s face heated and she ducked under the covers. “I’d guess maybe.”

“Oh, come now. We’ve been together for almost always. More like sisters, we two. Are you going to tell me or will I beat it from you?” She found a brush and wielded it like a sword.

Squealing, Ann grabbed it back, and swatted Sally’s behind. “I shan’t spill out last night’s adventure as a fine wine upon the floor.”

“You don’t have to.” She looked to the bloodied sheets with a deep grin. “Tell me, was it good? Did it hurt?”

“Come over and help me get the tangles out of my hair, and I
may
tell you some.”

Sally sat down on the pallet and pulled the brush through the knots. “Was he good to you?”

“Better than good . . .” Ann closed her eyes, counting the times he’d brought her to heaven.

“The Beast was kind?”

“Angels above. You would not believe.”

Sally giggled. “Was he big?”

“I’ve said enough. You’ll be married soon to that giant of a blacksmith and will find out for yourself. Give me that brush. You’re going to tear my scalp off.”

“I’ll get more out of you later. But for now, we need to get you dressed. What would you like to wear today? Your everyday muslin is ruined by your lord’s injury. Why not wear something new?”

“What? And get a day’s work of grime over it? It, too, will be a mess. By week’s end I’ll have nothing to wear.” She did wonder a little, though, what dresses she had left.

Sally ran out into the hall and returned with a bright yellow woolen tunic. “Your lord has given you his first present.”

She gasped. “It’s too beautiful to wear into the town for working. What if I get mud on it? Worse yet, dye?”

“He insisted. And there is this, too. I’m to lace it into your hair.” She pulled out a silk ribbon of yellow and gold.

Ann made a hex sign at it with her two index fingers. “Nay. I could lose it in sheep manure or it’ll fall into the vat. It makes no sense at all.”

Sally gave a sly sniff, rubbed her eyes, but maintained a mischievous grin underneath. “He told me there’d be hell to pay if you don’t come down dressed as he requested. I’d not have the new lord of the house be cross with me.”

“Oh, get off from that horse.” Ann feigned a stern look, but then giggled. “Of course I’ll wear the fine dress if he insists. He’ll find out soon enough that he’ll run out of gold should he try to dress me as a fine lady. Come. Let’s be at it, then.”

She had an idea and tore her old Muslin dress into pieces and folded the material. “Be a dear and create a cover-up for me like so. Add ties. See? Then I can mayhap keep the new dress somewhat unsoiled. Sew the seams quickly. I’d not want to keep my husband waiting.”

The bright yellow tunic caressed her legs as she descended the stairs. She clutched her cover-up in her hand for later. As promised, Sally had secured her hair with pins and a strand of bright ribbon, but already several locks had broken free. By end of day, it would come down entirely. The ensemble, as a whole, wasn’t very practical.

Her husband was deep in thought by the fireplace, so she cleared her throat. He glanced up, then broke into a wide smile. “You’re more beautiful than the sun. Come, eat with me. I’ll feed you, my little canary.”

“First, if you don’t mind, I would see to the food of my town.”

He took her hand. “About that—”

“No. Each morning, I see that all have a good breakfast. I have to go to the kitchen. I’ll be right back.” She gave him a big grin and tried to tug her hand from his, but he held her in place.

“Halt, now,” he said in a commanding tone.

It took much effort to suck back a snide retort. “Yes,
m’lord
?”

Arms folded across his chest. “I told cook to stop the practice. I’ll make sure all families have plenty to eat. We’ll just not do the cooking for them.”

“Of all the devil’s chicanery. You did what? I don’t believe this.” She took one fist and pounded at his massive chest.

He backed up and opened his hands. “Be reasonable. We provide the seed and the soil. God provides the air and water. Certainly they can manage a bit of fire without our help. I’ve seen to it that they won’t starve.”

“Is that so?” She searched his face, but it was grim and determined. “What gave you the right to—”

A fingertip locked onto her lips. “Hush. I’m your husband, the lord of this manor. I’ll do what is best for us from now on.”

The man was entirely unreasonable.
“You haven’t even looked at the debts and gains and you would tell me what we can and can’t do?” Her voice rose to a screech. “How dare you? What arrogance!”

“I suggest you desist with this conver—”

“Damn the devil and all his beasts. You would take food from the babes? What manner of man are you?” She turned on her heel and stormed into the kitchen. She was a bit surprised he didn’t hold her back.

“Dame March,” she said into the now-empty space. “You won’t listen to that beast of a man when it comes to food or I swear on the Holy Bible, I’ll sell you off to the next peddler through town. I’ll let The Beast and all his men eat dirt. Are you listening to me? Dame, where are you. Damn the souls of all warriors from now to eternity.”

She opened all the cupboards to find bread and muffins. There was meat drying in the cool cellar. She flew down the stairs, took her knife to the hanging rope and ran back up. When she figured she had enough to feed the town, she put the food into a large basket and dragged it out the kitchen door.

Sally’s carefully placed pins flew out of her hair and onto the grass. She shook her head until the rest followed. The yellow ribbon flew off, too, which she stomped into the mud. Then she stalked toward Dame March, who was trying to explain to the people why henceforth, there would no longer be food in the morning.

The Beast shouted at her back. “You go too far this time, m’lady.”

Marcus stormed out the front door in pursuit of the harpy and was met halfway by James. “By God’s nails, Brother, you’d better be off rather than stand in my way. Eve came from the rib of Adam, not the other way around. How’s that going to look to them.” He pointed to the townspeople.

Unlike other days, where they lingered to talk, they were taking their food and hurrying back to their homes. “She’s too soft. They’re my serfs, yet she treats them like her own babes. They take advantage too much. She’s a curse upon me, for she’ll give away all I own.”

Brother James reached out to keep him from charging toward her. In an instant, Marcus’ blade went to the holy man’s throat. Then, aghast, he dropped his knife to the ground and went to one knee with head bowed low.

“Forgive me. I’d not harm you. I still have bad habits learned from years at war.” He stared at the new shoots of spring grass. If God could renew the whole earth, why could he not do the same for him?

James gripped his arm, pulling him up, effortlessly. “It’s no matter. That’s why I stayed your siege. You’ve a fine temper and good senses that have kept you alive to this day. Even yesterday, I hear, it kept you in good stead.”

He grimaced. “Aye. Against Abernathy’s men.”

Looking over his shoulder, he nodded where Ann stood near the food table. “No wonder she owns nothing, like a nun she lives.”

“Like vows of poverty? I think not.” James motioned that they head toward the well. “Come, a cool draught, then we need to talk.”

“She has no gowns or jewels.”

Eyebrows raised. “There’s not much value in them for her. Whatever she has owned in the past has been taken away or taxed by your father.”

“No doubt. My father could drain blood from a stone.”

“Even now, everything she owns is legally yours.”

“So she keeps nothing for herself?”

He shook his tonsured head. “I’d guess she hides some of her wealth. But most of all, she has invested in the lands and her people. These are her most prized possession.”

Her hair flew about in the wind and hairpins scattered as she served. Sighing, he retrieved the ribbon and returned to the well.

“That’s why she feeds the lot of them?” He fingered the filthy band in his hands and was surprised how much it stung that she cared so little for it.

“Aye. That and it is more productive.”

Marcus snickered. “Productive. Now that is not a term I’ve ever heard a woman use.”

He bent over the well and let loose the bucket. It gave a little splash, then he turned the crank. He offered the ladle to James for the first drink, who took a swallow and edged up to sit on the wall.

“She’s astonishing. The abbey library holds ancient books that are in truth, too rare to touch—copied by our friars since the time of the Romans. Thinking back, it may have been a mistake, but she was so eager to learn Latin—”

“She reads that as well?” Taking the ladle back, Marcus let the cool, sweet water quench his parched throat. Then he filled it again, rubbing the grime away from the ribbon until it looked anew.

“Aye. I don’t know why, but God gave her a mind more suited for a man.”

“So tell me more about this book.” Marcus leaned against the well wall as the sun climbed higher. A shadow moved across the green, a cardinal warbled its favorite tune over and over, and he could swear he might be calming.
Remarkable.

“The Roman general stationed at this post hundreds of years ago, fancied himself an author. In it, he describes in detail, on how to efficiently run an army. I didn’t know it at the time, but I believe she used it as her own Bible.”

“Say it’s not so.” He watched his wife with a whole new eye. Now she was busying herself by talking to several of the older couples and packing the leftover meat into a basket.

“Aye. I merely taught her the language and showed her the book. The rest, well, you see here. I think I might be happier if she had the same thirst for piety.”

“Piety? Lady Ann?” He scoffed with a little laugh.

Raising an eyebrow, Brother James looked a bit offended. “I didn’t mean to imply that she has none. I believe her faith, despite all she’s gone through, is most irrefutable.”

“My God, what am I to do with her?” Marcus fingered the yellow ribbon that he’d given her as a token of the previous night.
This is what she thought of their first evening together?
“At least a part of the marriage has moved forward, as I’m sure the servants have whispered today.”

Brother James cleared his throat. “Young maids talk. You were gentle?”

“Aye, but you know not the wonder and the whole of it.”

“How is that?” Like taking confession, James leaned back against the well, folded his hands, and interlaced his fingers.

“Apparently, her last husband was dried up. I’ll need to annul the previous marriage.” He paced back and forth with eyes upon the town, watching her. A few women with babies and toddlers sat on the large stones lining the front of the great lawn nursing their infants. It was easy to envision her among them soon, if she ever forgave him.

“Annul? It won’t be easy.” He shook his head back and forth, watching her, too.

“I understand the church may need proof. I give you my word, as a Knight Templar, she was pure. I’ll pay whatever fees necessary.” From under his tunic, he untucked a small bloody cloth.

“Aye, that may help.” Brother James folded the cloth into his massive sleeves with a thoughtful nod.

Small children ran across the square heading toward the bathhouse. They squealed with delight as a flock of sparrows rose into the air, peeping in harmony. “Now what’s that all about?”

“It’s Wednesday. Babies and mothers bathe in the morning, after breaking their fast.”

“Tell me, does everything run on a schedule in this town?”

“Everything, but you.” He snickered, then grew serious, and cast a dark scowl. “She’s a good soul. See that you don’t stamp it out.”

Marcus grunted.
That sounded a lot like a threat.
“I’d ask you one more question.”

“Aye?”

“Did Ann’s previous husband cause the condition of her back?”

Eye met eye, and their noses almost touched. James crossed his arms over his chest. “I assume, no doubt, that you’ve discussed this with her.”

“She wasn’t very forthcoming, but the cook says you were allowed to see her after each occasion.

His face didn’t even twitch, giving away nothing, but he sighed deeply. “Aye, and each time, I gave the girl her last rites. I did do my best to comfort and heal her.”

“Why, for the love of God, didn’t you stop it?” His fist clenched. The girl had gone through hell and there was none to pay justice for it.

James’ sleeves opened wide in supplication, revealing warriors’ muscles, with a priest’s humility. “I tried. I wrote letters to the church, and to your father, but it is a man’s right to beat his wife. I even offered her the sanctuary of the church, but she wouldn’t abandon her people to that . . . that . . . tyrant.”

“Did she kill him? I assume you examined the body before you buried him.”

Lowering his arms, he stared defiantly. “I refused to look. Then if questioned, I’d not have to lie.”

“How convenient.” Marcus frowned.

“Yes, it was.” He glowered and his right hand first twitched for a sword, but instead moved up to clasp a cross, hanging from a thick chain at his chest.