To Love an English Knight

by Ewing, Sherry

  Livinia shrugged. “Really, Charles,” she drawled, “I thought you were made of sterner stuff. I thought our little wager to make Lady Freya jealous was splendid on my part.”

  “And Lord Roland’s?” he sneered, knowing the two had collaborated together.

  “Of course,” she laughed. “Why else do you think I encouraged him to travel so far north toward the wilds of Scotland? ’Twas to make you jealous, too, my darling.”

  “I am not your darling,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “You two always were a pain in my arse. Mischievous imps even in your youth. Will you never grow up, Livinia?”

  Her grin was seductive, and Charles wondered who she was gazing at in the hall, for her attention was certainly diverted from their conversation. Her hand ran across the fabric of his sleeve.

  “Trust me, Charles… I am a grown woman who knows what she wants. I have never adhered to convention, so why would I start now?”

  “One day your interfering in other people’s lives will be your downfall, Livinia. You cannot manipulate people to satisfy your whims.”

  She laughed again. “I cannot? Did not my brother and I do exactly that with you and your lady? You both became jealous and were caught in a compromising situation. My brother left with your lady love. The only part of my plan that failed is that you did not run after them. You disappointed me, Charles, causing me to lose my second bet with my brother.” She pouted as though she was thoroughly put out.

  He did all in his power to not berate the woman at his side for meddling in his life. Instead, he shook his head at her audacity. Livinia had always been a handful, and he should be used to her ploys to take whatever she wanted, including whoever she had her eye on across the room.

  “If you think to make him jealous by showing me affection, I doubt such a ruse will work,” Charles said with a knowing grin. “Most here know we have been friends for many years, or did you forget that?”

  She shrugged as though it was inconsequential. “You cannot blame me for trying, I suppose. So now that Lord Robert is making you stay here, what do you plan to do about Lady Freya?”

  He pulled her hand from his arm and gave her a short bow. “That, my lady, is none of your concern. Excuse me.”

  He left her but turned back to watch her make her way to another knight he was unfamiliar with. So be it. She could take care of herself.

  Charles quickly made his way across the room where the de Burghs had come up to Douglas and Catherine. Hamlin had just handed Douglas a goblet of wine before he raised his own cup in a toast. Charles interrupted the scene, bumping into Hamlin and spilling wine down the front of his tunic.

  “You clumsy imbecile! Look what you have done?” Hamlin’s voice rose above the murmur of the crowded room until everyone turned in his direction.

  “My apologies, de Burgh,” Charles said. Taking the cup out of Douglas’s hand, he thrust the chalice into Hamlin’s before taking the one Larkin held and giving it to Douglas. “I am certain your brother will not mind retrieving another cup so you may continue your toast.”

  Larkin’s eyes widened while a passing servant held out a tray for him. Larkin took a cup, and Charles watched him gulp as fear seemed to light up his eyes.

  Charles also took a goblet and raised it high. “Were you toasting safe travels to Lord Douglas and Lady Catherine?” he asked with a smile.

  Hamlin did not raise his cup but stared at the contents. “O-of c-course. God speed,” he said.

  Everyone took a sip of wine but Hamlin. Charles stepped forward. “Well…go on and drink, Hamlin, or is there something wrong with your wine?”

  Those who were close enough to overhear the conversation seemed to be waiting for Hamlin’s reply. Instead of drinking, as Charles knew Hamlin would not, he quickly threw down the cup and bolted from the room. Charles called for guards who quickly apprehended Hamlin along with his brother who squirmed to be released.

  “What is going on here?” Lord Robert’s voice boomed as he neared.

  “Poison, my lord,” Charles replied with a bow. “I have been trying to inform Lord Douglas as to the plans these two had for his early demise. Unfortunately, with Lady Catherine’s illness, I had not been able to do so. I have kept my eye on the de Burghs ever since and knew they would make the attempt tonight.”

  Douglas stepped forward. “I owe ye a life debt than cannot easily be repaid.”

  “I only did what was right, my lord,” Charles replied.

  “My life is not so easily dismissed, nor is my debt to ye,” Douglas said.

  Charles could only nod. There was but one thing keeping him from having Freya as his wife. He might be able to convince Douglas that he loved his sister, but in order to do that, he needed time with the man and to be able to leave Wolverhampton. Luckily, Douglas quickly put any fears to rest as he addressed Catherine’s cousin.

  “Lord Robert, will ye release Sir Charles from his service tae Wolverhampton so he may return with us?” Douglas asked.

  “If this is your request, then so be it,” Lord Robert nodded before signaling his guards. “Take the de Burghs to the dungeon as I no longer recognize them as kin. I am certain they might like the view down below while they contemplate the error of their ways.”

  The de Burghs were led away while cursing Charles, Douglas, and especially Robert. Charles did not give them another thought. Instead, he gave Catherine and Douglas a courtly bow.

  Douglas stared at him strangely. “Mayhap we can discuss the possibility of ye marrying my sister on our return home. I assume what ye said about yer intentions being honorable regarding her tae still be true.”

  “I would be delighted to take Lady Freya as my wife, with your permission,” Charles said, trying to hide the hope that sprang into his heart.

  “Ye may just be worthy of her after all,” Douglas said, turning to his wife and kissing her cheek.

  Charles knew he had proven to Douglas he was sincere in wanting Freya as his wife. He could barely contain his joy knowing they would hopefully be together soon and could not wait until they were reunited.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Freya sat before a roaring fire stabbing a needle through the material as she mended a tear in one of her gowns. Bored beyond words, she began to ponder her decision to leave Berwyck for her manor over the Scotland border. She had always loved this place and fond memories of her grandparents filled her mind. Her mother sat in a chair opposite her, working on her own mending. But the weather outside troubled her, and she knew traveling would be near to impossible. She heaved a heavy sigh.

  “Ye cannot wish him here any sooner than the snow will allow, my dearest Freya,” Myra said, setting the fabric down in her lap.

  “Mayhap this was not such a good idea, Mother.” Freya set her own chore of sewing aside and stared into the flames of the fire.

  “’Tis too late tae change yer mind, daughter. We are here now, and here we shall stay, at least until the spring thaw.”

  “Why is it taking so long?”

  “Have ye looked outside lately, my dear? ’Twould take a miracle and then some for anyone tae make it through the blizzard. Charles will arrive when he can, so until then, ye must be patient.”

  “Ye, above anyone else, should know by now that was never a strong trait of mine.”

  “What choice do ye have? We certainly are not traveling back tae Berwyck. Not in this storm,” her mother replied, picking up her sewing again.

  “I suppose ye are right,” Freya replied. Another reckless decision had taken her farther from Charles than she would have liked. What had possessed her with such a stupid idea?

  A sudden pounding on the front door echoed inside, causing Freya and her mother to jump to their feet with a start. Such furious pounding could only be the cause of an intruder who would not be welcome. And then she heard it…her name being called from outside. Charles had arrived!

  She rushed through the room to fling open the door not caring when the winter wind almost
knocked her down. She flung herself into Charles’s snow-covered cloak to feel his arms wrap around her.

  “God’s bones, will you never stay put, woman,” Charles said, shivering from the cold.

  “Come inside quick before ye freeze tae death, Charles,” Freya said, pulling him inside. ’Twas only when Charles left the doorway that she saw her brother standing behind him.

  “May I come in, as well, sister? I have nearly frozen my arse off trying tae get here with yer knight,” Douglas said as he entered. His teeth chattered together to prove how cold he was.

  Freya pulled her brother into her manor before shutting the door against the frigid wind. “Of course ye can come in. Have ye two made amends then?”

  “Do ye think I would be here with him if we dinnae?” Douglas questioned her with a raised brow.

  “I suppose not,” Freya murmured.

  Douglas crushed her in a fierce embrace before he kissed both her cheeks. “Why are ye not home, Freya? There was no need to leave Berwyck.”

  “At the time, it felt like a reasonable thing tae do. Berwyck is yers, and I needed my own place tae call home.”

  He kissed her forehead before taking off his cape and hugging her again. “Silly lass… Berwyck will always be yer home. Do ye not know that in yer heart?”

  Freya blushed under the close scrutiny. “Aye. I do now.”

  Myra came forward to embrace her son before coming up to Charles, patting his cheek. “I am sure there is much ye wish to discuss with my daughter. Douglas come with me tae the kitchen and we shall send something for Freya and Charles tae warm him up. Freya, get yer man tae the fire before he expires right here on the stone floor.”

  “But, Mother,” Douglas said with a worried frown.

  “They will be fine, Douglas,” Myra said. “I think considering all they have been through, they deserve a few minutes of privacy. Do ye not agree?”

  Freya did not hear her brother’s answer as his words dwindled the further down the hall they went. With trembling fingers, she undid the clasp at Charles’s throat and pulled off his sodden cape. Gloves came next, and she took his cold hands in hers as she led him near the fire where he sat. Running to the window seat, she grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around him while she ran her hands up and down his arms. He finally pulled her into his lap.

  “Charles! What will my brother say?” she gasped before pushing hair from his forehead and taking his cheeks between her hands. Without thinking, she bent her head forward and kissed his lips until they at last began to warm.

  “Hmm…if I had known the kind of reception I would receive, I would have pushed my horse farther last night instead of spending the eve at a nearby inn.”

  “Ye were close?” she said, searching his eyes.

  “Aye, but the horses could go no further in the storm.”

  “And my brother? Has he—”

  “—given his consent,” he finished “Aye, Freya. We can wed…if you will still have me.”

  “Ye know I will,” she whispered before kissing him again.

  His hands traveled down Freya’s back, pulling her closer, and her heart flipped at his nearness. When she finally let him come up for air, he snuggled her neck and she laughed while his lips tickled her.

  “You have made me a happy man, my love,” he murmured, kissing her cheek.

  “’Twas mayhap not my intent tae love an English knight, but I am content knowing ye are mine.”

  “Are you sure about that, Freya. The way you followed me in Caen told me you had an ulterior motive for us to meet,” he chuckled.

  “And ye thought me a woman of the streets!” She laughed, giving him a playful swat upon his arm.

  He pulled her closer.

  “But you forgave me for the slight…”

  “…as ye forgave me for what happened when ye arrived at Berwyck,” she finished.

  “You shall need to let me know where you would like to live. I have land in France and England. We could make our home anywhere you wish, my lady.”

  “We can also live here,” she suggested. “But I would rather plan a wedding and worry about the rest later. When shall we wed?”

  “As soon as it can be arranged. I want you to myself, and am tired of trying to hunt you down all the time. Will you never stay put where I leave you?”

  “Only if you stay with me, otherwise, I will follow you no matter where you travel.”

  “Do you promise?” he asked. His tone had lowered, and Freya wished they were already wed.

  “Aye, ’tis my most solemn vow. I love you, Charles. May our lives only be filled with happiness in the years to come.”

  “I love you, too,” he promised before taking her lips again to seal their fate.

  She would have asked for far more, but she heard her mother and brother returning. She quickly pulled a chair next to where Charles was sitting and took his hand in hers. She would never leave his side ever again.

  Epilogue

  Berwyck Castle

  One year later

  Charles watched his wife as she showed off her son to her clan in Berwyck’s great hall. They had promised Freya’s mother they would travel when Freya was well enough to make the trip. Myra wanted Berwyck’s priest to bless their child, and Charles would not gainsay her. Despite another snowy trip, the roads were passable enough, and the storm only waited for their arrival before winter came in full force. Charles was glad he had brought Freya home. He knew how much she missed this place and even if they needed to extend their stay, he would welcome the time getting to know her family.

  They had wed in a local chapel near Freya’s manor with only a few to witness the marriage. She did not seem to mind the small attendance, nor when he whisked her to their bedchamber shortly after their wedding feast. Making Freya his in every way had been both pleasurable and a trial. She seemed to take on the traits of a siren once they were in bed despite his warnings for her to go slow the first time. He had no complaints as she went about learning what he liked and satisfying him in every way. She did not seem to mind when he returned the favor the first time…nor the next!

  He smiled as the memories flashed in his mind. One month later, they learned she was pregnant. One moment Freya was telling him her news, and the next thing he knew he was waking up after passing out on the floor. When he came to, concern was etched across her features, but he took her in his arms and kissed her senseless. If he had been overprotective of his wife before, that was nothing compared to how he felt knowing she carried his child.

  The birth had been long, but the woman who was in attendance to assist with the birthing had told him this was normal for a first pregnancy. He had been allowed to stay for a short while until the woman shooed him from the room. Charles flexed his sword hand as though he could still feel the death grip of his wife’s hand as she clutched his.

  He made his way across the hall to stand next to Freya. Her gaze fell upon him, and he swore he could get lost in her blue-green eyes. His fingers pulled back the blanket of the tiny bundle she carried. Danior…his son. Could one man ever feel more proud than what Charles was feeling while gazing upon his own flesh and blood? He did not think so.

  A small hand clasped one of his fingers, and Charles vowed he would protect this child to his last dying breath. The baby began cooing in delight, and Charles took his son to give his wife some relief. He began rocking to and fro on his feet, and the babe slowly closed his eyes.

  “Ye have a way with children, my love,” Freya whispered, tucking the blanket once more around her child.

  “And you have a way of making me a most humble man,” he said softly. “Have I thanked you for giving me a son, my dearest wife?”

  She put her fingers to her chin as though seriously contemplating her answer, then she gave a merry laugh. “At least a hundred times or more. Mayhap we can have another so I can hear yer words of praise more often.”

  “Or perchance we can wait a bit so I can have you to myself. I barely touched you an
d then you go and defy me by getting yourself with child.”

  “I believe ye might have also had something tae do with Danior’s conception. I did not do this alone, ye know.”

  “At least you did not give me a daughter. My sword will never be sharp enough to fend off her suitors,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Given how fast ye got me pregnant, ye obviously did not have a problem with…” her voice trailed off before a seductive smile lit her face. “… yer sword. Mayhap ye should prove yer worth tae me in our chamber.”

  “You saucy minx. Is that a challenge?” he asked, attempting to hide his mirth.

  “Of course ’tis a challenge. If I am tae love an English knight, than I must be certain he can keep up with a Scottish lass!”

  Her laughter rang out in the hall, and they quietly made a hasty exit to Freya’s chamber. After settling their sleeping babe, Charles began peeling the clothing from Freya’s body.

  “Whatever am I to do with you, wife?” he asked in a husky tone.

  She pulled his tunic off and ran her fingers lightly over his chest. “Just love me, Charles. For today, tomorrow, and always.”

  And he did far into the night and for many years to come. Charles filled their lives with so much love, that Freya never doubted him again. They had a lifetime of happiness, and he would love Freya and his family for all time.

  Acknowledgements

  A huge thank you to Kathryn Le Veque for giving me the opportunity to continue writing in her De Wolfe Pack Connected World. I was thrilled to be able to take my secondary characters from To Love A Scottish Laird and write the story of Charles and Freya. I am humbly grateful for being able to connect her world with my Knights of Berwyck series. Thank you, Kathryn!

  I would also like to thank my daughter Jessica Makens for helping me work through different plot possibilities and bouncing ideas around to see what would work. She’s become my sounding board when my muse decides to take a vacation. I sincerely appreciate all her thoughts on how to make this novella better. I love you, Jessie!