Joust of Hearts
Joust of Hearts
ISBN #
978-1-78430-762-2
©Copyright Genella DeGrey 2015
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2015
Edited by Ann Leveille
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing,
Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
heat rating
of
Totally Sizzling
and a
Sexometer
of
2.
JOUST OF HEARTS
Genella DeGrey
The tale of widow Lady Melisande Dupree and Sir Devin Blackburn—a knight who isn’t afraid to risk all, including his heart, to save the damsel.
With her time of mourning long since past, Lady Melisande Dupree remains quite happily ensconced in her stronghold, away from the outside world. Owing to the many narratives of battles and bloodshed by her deceased husband, she has an abhorrence for violence in any form. When she receives a request to share her talents of voice and instrument with friends of the late Sir Marcus, she accepts without considering what may come—and now it is time to pay the price.
Sir Devin Blackburn is cherished as a member of the Bergavny family. At the opening of the games he first sees the golden-haired lady-bard, and is simply enchanted. However, he recognizes her alarm during the mock skirmishes, and it is clear to Devin that if he wants to win her, he will have to proceed with caution about his knighthood. Finally, moments after he tenderly introduces her to his profession, he gets word that his ally’s holdings are being invaded by loyal Yorkist enthusiasts.
Ashamed of herself for the wanton way in which she behaved with the knight, Melisande accepts an extended summons through the Bergavnys from King Henry VII.
Corin Sinclair is nephew to the Queen and is a consummate seducer. He works his magic on Melisande, all the while knowing that if he wins the fair Melisande, he wins her castle too, bringing him one step closer to the throne.
Dedication
Joust of Hearts
is a throwback to the classic romance novels of the 1980s. In fact, the first draft of Joust was completed way back in 1995, handwritten on a spiral notepad. The single love scene it originally contained was quite subpar owing to my personal experiences. Funny how life shapes us with both fire and ice as we continue upon the journey.
Though normally I write strong heroines, there were times in history when a woman wasn’t able to prevail against politics and greedy land wars without a strong, able-bodied man to protect her.
Here’s to the days of damsels in distress and the heroes of old who weren’t afraid to risk all to save them.
I would like to give credit to William C. Hurt for the instruction on armor and jousting in this particular time period.
Glossary of Medieval Terms
Grammercy
—short for God grant thee mercy, also means thank you
Lists
—an enclosed arena for jousting, also can mean the barriers enclosing said arena
Malmsey
—a strong, sweet wine
Psaltery
—a medieval musical instrument played by plucking the strings
Sennight
—seven nights (one week)
Verily
—in truth or certainly
Prologue
Midsummer’s Eve, 1500
He is dead.
The three words echoed loudly in Melisande’s ears as she poured the required handful of dirt over her late husband’s sword and chain-mailed chest. Unchecked, her hand shook violently.
The last few days had been melded together as if forged in a smithy. The time seemed to be without beginning or end. Even the temporary respite of sleep had eluded her without mercy.
Numb, she gazed at the men while they slid the marble slab into place that would serve to seal her husband within his tomb for all time. She clenched her teeth at the discordant, abrasive sound of stone against stone.
Sir Liam Dupree had been a great knight. He had won the day for king and country many a time in his youth, and now he would rest. May God have mercy on his soul.
Will God have mercy on his soul
? The thought sent a cold shiver over Melisande’s shoulders and down her back. As a knight, he had killed hundreds of men in the service of King Richard, then for King Henry VII. He would at least spend some time in Purgatory, according to the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church. She attempted to pull her cloak closer to her chilled body but found that she was being escorted up the steps and out of the family vault.
Once outside, those whose lives depended upon Melisande and Dupree Castle turned to her for guidance, their sad eyes both questioning and thoughtful. Her gaze scanned each and every face.
So this was what it had come to—the running of the sizeable old castle would now be set upon her slight, twenty-year-old shoulders. She didn’t feel twenty.
Nay, much, much older, ancient even.
Her life spent, but not at her own liberty, her youth whittled to naught by someone else’s hand.
One of her lady’s maids placed a gentle hand on her back and Melisande was drawn from her dim reflections.
The corners of her mouth scarcely lifted in what was her best attempt at a smile on this dark day. “Go to,” she said just above a whisper to the population of Dupree Castle, nodding. “We shall endure.”
Chapter One
Early Autumn, 1501
The page had intoned loudly as he’d stood in the great hall of Dupree Castle—
To the Lady Melisande Dupree
Concerning the games at Willowbrook.
Please attend and bestow upon us your talents
of voice and instrument
at our day and evening festivities to be held
11 October,
in the year of our Lord fifteen hundred and one.
The Lord and Lady Bergavny.
“Our lady is indeed vexed this day.”
Melisande disregarded her maid’s impertinent comment as she sat on the opposite side of the solar by the west window plying needle and thread. Maggie and Tilly were two of the most loquacious chits, likely in the whole of England, but she’d learned to pay their discourse little heed. Well, most of the time. They’d been assigned to her upon her marriage and had been her only source as to the goings-on inside the walls of Dupree Castle. Maggie with her wide blue gaze, always the first to bring gossip to her confidante, Tilly. Tilly, with her catlike curiosity and almond-shaped brown eyes, would soak up every word and later confirm the information. Whatever pastime kept them interested in life and no matter what inspired their activities, they were infallibly loyal to Melisande.
“Think you she will change her mind and not want to go to the Willowbrook games?” Maggie beseeched Tilly in hushed tones.
“Nay. Not whilst I have a breath in my body. We have not been farther than the village in an age, and I can no longer abide the stale geldings in Dupree’s stables.”
Maggie elbowed Tilly in the ribs with a grin.
“Your words, however softly dispensed, do not go unheard past my ears, you know,” Melisande admonished her maids, albeit gently.
“Aye, m’lady,” they murmured in unison, dipping their matching white barbette-covered heads in submission. They continued to talk amongst themselves, but their volume had lowered considerably for the time being.
Since the first of the previous month, Melisande felt as if she had made a pact with the piper and it was time to pay. She had responded with word of her plans to attend—an act she now found sorely regrettable. Though it had been over a year, she still did not feel ready to face the friends and fellow knights who had fought alongside her late husband.
Nevertheless, because she had responded positively, she should attend.
’Twould be discourteous if I changed my mind and refused at such a late date
.
“One of the miller’s sons let it slip that Hamish asked you to take a walk with him tonight,” Maggie commented to Tilly. “Didn’t you used to see him regularly?”
“Aye, but I haven’t yet decided to give him my favor.”
“Whyever not?”
Tilly shrugged a shoulder. “He’s the one who broke with me last spring. Now that he’s made his way round the village he’s back, sniffing up my skirts.”
“What a lout. And so many like him hereabouts, too. He’s a robust lout, but a lout to be sure.”
“We will see what the evening brings. I’ve a mind to change my decision plenty—nine times between now and then.”
Ah, to be fickle and free,
Melisande mused as she half-listened to their freshly audible banter. However, her station wouldn’t permit such frivolities.
Indeed, she was a bundle of contradictions, she admitted to herself. It seemed that none of the people of Dupree had set out beyond the walls of her late husband’s stronghold since he had passed away, save the game hunters and those who tilled the earth and tended the crops.
She’d oft wondered how she could ever venture forth without a destination to entice her. Where would she go, to visit her parents?
Never
.
