Love With an Improper Stranger

OTHER TITLES BY

BARBARA DEVLIN

BRETHREN OF THE COAST SERIES

Enter the Brethren (Brethren of the Coast 1)

My Lady, the Spy (Brethren of the Coast 2)

The Most Unlikely Lady (Brethren of the Coast 3)

One-Knight Stand (Brethren of the Coast 4)

Captain of Her Heart (Brethren of the Coast 5)

The Lucky One (Brethren of the Coast 6)

Love with an Improper Stranger (Brethren of the Coast 7)

Loving Lieutenant Douglas: A Brethren of the Coast Novella

BRETHREN ORIGINS

Arucard (Brethren Origins 1)

KATHRYN LE VEQUE’S KINDLE WORLD OF THE DE WOLFE PACK

Lone Wolfe

COPYRIGHT

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2015 Barbara C. Noyes

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Barbara Devlin

The Brethren of the Coast Badge is a registered trademark ® of Barbara Devlin.

Cover art by Lewellen Designs

ISBN: 978-0-9962509-2-4

DEDICATION

For my little sisters, Tina and Carla.  I’ve known you since you were born, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.  I’m so proud to call myself your big sis, and no matter how old we grow, you’ll always be my girls.  All my love.

PROLOGUE

The Ascendants

England

The Year of Our Lord 1315

With visions of
his sweet Isolde, naked and splayed beneath him, dancing in his brain, Arucard sauntered into the great hall in search of something to slake his grumbling belly.  It was just after dawn when he woke his slumbering bride for their usual morning games, after which she returned to dreamland, whilst he prepared for weapons practice.

Almost three years had passed since they took their vows before the archbishop, and in that time he and his wife had settled into a comfortable but never boring routine, marked by dedication to duty, service, and an abiding, all-consuming commitment that defined their very existence and permeated their every action.  How he loved Isolde, and their daughter Roswitha, and together they had forged an unbreakable union so strong, so complete that he knew not whither he ended and his family began.

“Good morrow, brother.”  The newlywed Morgan propped his elbow on the table, rested his chin in his palm, and sighed.  “Did not expect to see ye up and about so early.”

“Morgan?”  Arucard studied the youngest Nautionnier Knight’s visage and swallowed hard, as Morgan looked pathetic.  “Isolde is with child, so I would not overtire her.  But wherefore art thou sitting hither, alone?  Is Hawisia all right?”

“My darling bride is fine, I presume.”  The gadling bit a chunk of bread.

“Thou dost presume?”  Arucard straddled the bench, set aside his mail coif, hauberk, and sword, and scratched his temple.  “How was she whence ye left her?”

“I cannot say, as I was never with her.”  With a mighty scowl, Morgan slumped his shoulders.  “Hawisia locks me from my private chambers every night, and I am resigned to retire to the garrison, with the soldiers, and they make great sport at my expense.  It is humiliating, brother.”

“But it hath been a sennight since we returned to Chichester.”  Yet he was not surprised, given the cocky knight’s arrogance and misplaced confidence, which Arucard predicted would cause strife.  “Art thy vows unsecured?”

“Aye.”  Morgan shook his head.  “And I know not how to resolve the problem, as my wife will not even speak to me.”

“Did we or did we not try to help thee?”  Demetrius strolled into the large meeting room and sat next to Arucard.  “But thou dost know everything about seduction.  After all, thou dost never fail to rouse thy whores.  Dost thou not recall thy bold claims?”

“Is not one woman’s body the same as the next?”  Arucard snickered, as he seized upon that gem of unmitigated stupidity.  “Art thou not playing thy mate’s body as a finely tuned instrument?”

“I may have overestimated my proficiency in that area, so dispense thy advice and spare me thy gloating.”  Morgan wiped his brow and sighed.  “What can I do, as Hawisia behaves naught like any strumpet I know?”

“That is because Hawisia is no strumpet, thou cream-faced loon.”  Aristide stretched and plopped beside Morgan.  “She is a virgin bride, which are creatures unto themselves, and we art but unworthy servants endeavoring to win their hearts and their sweet favors.”

“But if thou dost concentrate thy efforts on the former, the latter is a delicious piece of sambocade cheesecake, as the two are inextricably intertwined.”  Frowning, Demetrius waved at a maid, who rushed to bring him a light sop.  “Brother, thou dost know the mess I made of my marriage, in my misplaced attempt to uphold the beliefs upon which our order was founded.  In my ignorance, I failed to recognize that my vows constitute a new commitment, far more important than the one we swore before the Crown, and I hurt Lily, to my profound regret.  But she forgave me, and she loves me despite my foolishness.”

“Who among us is without error?”  A moment from the past flashed in his mind, and Arucard tried but failed to suppress a shudder.  “Dost thou not remember how Isolde begged me to take her with us, when the King summoned us?  I bade her remain hither, as I thought I knew better, and her father stole her.  Thou dost know the rest, so I will not repeat it, but not a day goes by that I do not wish I heeded her pleas, and the guilt resides with me still.  Yet my lady loves me, so thou art not without hope.”

“So what happened to thy lip, as we know she punched thy nose in London?”  Aristide guffawed.  “The woman has wicked aim.”

“Mayhap she took lessons from Dion.”  Demetrius burst into laughter.

“I resent that, brother.”  Aristide grimaced.  “And never should I have rushed Dion, so the wound was of my own making.”  Then he focused on Morgan.  “Now about thy fat lip, with what did she strike ye?”

“She did not hit me.”  Huffing a breath, Morgan gazed at the ceiling.  “I tried to kiss her, and she bit me.”

“Upon my word, but thou art either brazen or stupid.”  Demetrius arched a brow and whistled.  “And I suspect I know the answer to that query, but I am surprised thou art still alive.”

“And what of thy black eye, as thou were not marked last night.”  Arucard bit back a snort.  “It looks painful.”

For several seconds, Morgan simply narrowed his stare and compressed his lips.  At last, he emitted a groan.  “Her hairbrush.  And the cursed gash hurts like the devil.”

“I can imagine.”  Demetrius covered his mouth.

Aristide shifted his weight.

Then the married Brethren collapsed in a fit of hilarity.

When Morgan stood, Aristide yanked his fellow knight to the bench.

“Brother, make no mistake, marriage is work.”  Arucard pointed for emphasis.  “But it is not meant to be
hard
work.”

“Or life-threatening,” Demetrius added with a smirk.

“Arucard is correct in his estimation.”  Aristide rubbed the back of his neck.  “Thy bride brings every bit as much, if not more, trepidation to thy union.”

“And the sooner ye dost recognize it the better.”  Demetrius cast a half smile.  “Instead of focusing on thy needs, thou must consider hers.  If thou canst satisfy thy bride, she will satisfy thee, as women are made that way.”

“Wherefore canst I not order her to obey?”  Morgan wrinkled his nose.  “That seems much simpler.”

“Dost thou desire another black eye?”  Arucard snickered and then summoned an attendant.  “Have Margery brew some of Lady Isolde’s favorite tea, and prepare some toasted bread and a serving of blackberry jam.  Bring everything to me, on a tray, with a single rosebud.”

“Aye, my lord.”  The maid curtseyed.

As the men argued the finer points of marital relationships, Arucard’s thoughts turned to his wife and her health.  Standing, he collected his things.  “Tell Pellier I will not attend weapons practice today.

“Oh?”  Aristide cast a knowing grin.  “Thou art a wise and compassionate husband, and as usual I would do well to follow thy lead.”  When the servant returned with the items Arucard requested, Aristide pushed from the table.  “Bring me the same, for Lady Dionysia.”

“And I require similar provisions for Lady Athelyna.”  Demetrius arched a brow.  “My Lily increases, and I would not have her wane after this morrow’s exercise.”

“What exercise?” Morgan inquired, with a countenance of confusion.

“Thou wilt learn soon enough, if thou wilt but heed our sage counsel.”  Arucard paused and imagined the many ways Isolde might convey her appreciation of his meager efforts to please her.  “Brother, perfection is not necessary to find thy way in the connubial bed.  Rather, show Hawisia that ye art sympathetic to her wishes, however modest, and know she will respond, in kind.”  Arucard strolled to the narrow passage that led to his chambers but halted before the first step.  “But take heart, as often the best things in life require a bit of work, thus they are worth the effort, and ye doth retain one good eye to sacrifice in thy quest for matrimonial bliss.”