The Jewel's Embrace: A Medieval Romance Novella

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The Jewel's Embrace: A Medieval Romance Novella Page 3

by Kathryn Le Veque


  He conceded the point. “I know,” he said. “But many people marry someone they’ve never met before, so this is nothing unusual. I’m simply going about it a different way.”

  “That is true,” she said, her wide-eyed gaze lingering on him. “So ye’re looking for a wife, are ye? Then tell me what there is to know about ye, River de la Haye?”

  He sensed he was getting somewhere with her, which bolstered his confidence. She was quite a lovely little thing – was it possible she was actually open to a marriage proposal from a stranger?

  “I’ve traveled much of the world,” he said. “My father insisted on it. I have a twin brother, Falcon, and we’ve traveled together. I love my brother, but I know I’d make a better earl. Falcon is too emotional. I’m too…”

  “Reckless?” she finished for him.

  He laughed softly. “Aye,” he said. “I’ve been known to be that. But I swear that I would make a good husband. I know what loyalty means, lass. The marriage may be impulsive, but my honor isn’t.”

  She regarded him. “So ye are an honorable madman, are ye?”

  “That would be accurate.”

  “How many women have ye made this offer to?”

  “Ye are my first and, I hope, my last.”

  “Why would ye think I would make a fine countess?”

  He lifted his big shoulders. “I can see it in yer eyes,” he said softly. “Ye’re destined for something greater than a simple shepherdess.”

  “And how would ye know that? Ye know nothing about me.”

  River didn’t have time to woo the woman, so he came on strong. “I have good instincts,” he said as he came towards her. “Ye’re a beautiful woman and ye’d make a fine countess. Can’t a man go on his instincts?”

  She was backing away from him because he was starting to stalk her. “He can, I suppose,” she said. “But ye cannot force a woman to marry ye, even if ye did give her a foolish tale of woe.”

  He kept coming. “’Tis not a foolish tale, I assure ye. Let’s not waste any more time, lass. I want to speak with yer father. We could be married before the day is out.”

  “Can ye not even give me any time to think on it?”

  “What is there to think on? I am offering ye the Earldom of Drumburgh. And, I hope, my heart someday.”

  She simply stared at him and, in fact, there seemed to be some turmoil in her expression. Inexplicable turmoil. When next she spoke, it was in a low and serious tone.

  “I want ye to listen to me carefully,” she said. “I want ye to get on yer horse and ride out of here as quickly as ye can. Do ye understand me?”

  He frowned, fearful he may have gone too far. “But why? I’m sorry I asked to speak to yer parents. I don’t have to, not at the moment. But wouldn’t ye like to sit somewhere and talk? Truly, there is so much more to speak of.”

  “If ye don’t go, ye may get more than ye hoped for. Just do as I say. Leave quickly.”

  River scratched his head, bewildered by her abrupt change in attitude, but that was the last thing he remembered before something hit him in the head and everything went black.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  He was on the bed of a wagon.

  At least, that’s what he thought. Opening his eyes, River found himself staring up at the sky above, with silver clouds and hints of blue. Flat on his back, he realized that he was on a wagon because he could hear the horses as they moved and the wheels as they creaked. He could hear voices, decidedly female voices, as they chattered on with each other.

  Then, someone began to belt out a song.

  “A young man came to Tilly Nodden,

  His heart so full and pure.

  Upon the step of Tilly Nodden,

  His wants would find no cure.

  Aye! Tilly, my goddess divine,

  Can ye spare me a glance from those eyes?

  My Tilly, sweet Tilly, be my lover so dear,

  I’m a-wantin’ a slap of those thighs!”

  The female voices began to laugh uproariously and, startled, River sat straight up. Three pairs of astonished eyes looked at him before, abruptly, there were women in his face.

  “He’s awake!” a big, blonde woman yelled. “How are ye feeling, lamb?”

  She was tugging at him until a woman on River’s other side shoved her back. “Stop pulling at him,” she boomed in a voice River had never before heard from a woman. “He doesn’t want to be pulled at. Ye must be gentle with him.”

  With that, she flashed her big, yellow teeth at him and got right in his face, batting her eyes. Appalled, and slightly nauseous from having been unconscious, River instinctively drew back from her only to realize there was yet another woman directly behind him. She snuggled up right behind him and snaked her arms around his torso, squeezing him so hard that she nearly cracked his ribs.

  “He’s just fine,” the woman behind him crooned, laying her head on his back. “Fine and strong. I can feel how strong he is.”

  River had enough. He leapt up out of the wagon and bolted over the side, all the while dodging the hands that were grabbing at him. More hands than he’d ever seen. By the time he bailed over the side of the wagon, he looked over to see Duchy riding behind it, leading River’s horse.

  River’s eyes widened.

  “What in the name of Bleeding Jesus is going on here?” River gasped, running back towards his horse. “Who are these women?”

  Duchy had a droll expression on his face. “Ye wanted to find the desperate women,” he said, nodding in the direction of the wagon. “Ye’ve found them. Or, they’ve found us.”

  River couldn’t decide if he was horribly appalled or somewhat intrigued. He’d run back to Duchy, as if the old man could protect him from the octopus-like arms of the women in the wagon bed. Walking alongside his uncle, he eyed the women as they hung over the backside of the wagon, looking at him like a fresh side of beef.

  “God’s Bones, Duchy,” he muttered. “Those are the women ye spoke of?”

  Duchy nodded. “Evidently, they heard yer singing and came to investigate,” he said. “They found me on the road and we followed yer trail.”

  “And they knocked me unconscious? Why?”

  Duchy shook his head. “Not deliberately, lad,” he said. “They are bad aim with a slingshot and hit ye in the head instead of the leg.”

  River looked at his uncle in horror. “They were aiming for my leg?”

  “To make it so ye couldn’t run away.”

  River’s eyes were wide with the realization. “Oh… Duchy,” he hissed. “I fear I’ve made a terrible mistake coming here. Why didn’t ye warn me?”

  Duchy couldn’t help it; he whacked River on the back of his head. “I did, ye dolt,” he said angrily. But when he looked in the wagon and realized that the three women were about to jump out and defend their prize from being bruised, he smiled and nicely petted the top of River’s head. “Smile or they’ll swarm around us, River. We have been invited to sup tonight and we cannot refuse or they’ll track us down like dogs. I’d rather be a willing guest than an unwilling prisoner.”

  River was nearly beside himself. He continued walking along beside Duchy, eyeing the women, reconciling himself to the situation he found himself in. He’d come for a reason and that very reason had found him – three reasons had found him.

  They were willing.

  He needed a wife.

  God, how desperate am I?

  “Very well,” he finally said. “We’ll sup with them. But there’s a lass I was speaking to in the meadow before I was abducted. I would rather find her than consider these three.”

  “Sssh,” Duchy shushed him. “If they hear ye, it will not go well for us. Be polite, River, no matter what happens. If ye want to walk away from this, don’t anger them.”

  River could see that was probably true. He was a big man, with big muscles, but those three women were about his height and not at all delicate flowers. They were a tough breed.

  And they were looking
at him quite hungrily.

  Suddenly, one of them jumped over the side of the wagon, running straight for him. The others, seeing their sister had a head start, jumped over the side as well. When River saw them coming, he scampered back to his horse, leaping onto its back from the wrong side. Just as he jerked the reins free from Duchy, the old woman driving the wagon, turned around and bellowed at the women.

  “Back!” she cried. “Get back! Get in the wagon or I’ll take a stick to ye!”

  The women came to a halt, grossly unhappy, but they did as they were told. Begrudgingly, they climbed back into the moving wagon, making sure to flash their legs at River as they did.

  It was all he could do not to become ill.

  “Courage, lad,” Duchy said, grinning. “This is what ye wished for. Now, ye have it.”

  He was right.

  Never mind finding a wife before Falcon did. Now, River wondered if he was going to make it out of this alive.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The stone house was more like a longhouse. It was old, so old that the stones themselves were green with moss and growth. Everything was damp and moldering.

  It was a typical sheep farm from what River could see. There were sheds and barns, and a big, dead garden over near a brook that shimmied past the property. The clouds were starting to clear away from a day that had been covered in gray skies and the sun was starting to glisten off of the brown fields just as it was beginning to set. As River closed in on the house, he couldn’t help but wonder what his life was going to be like come the morning.

  He’d been looking for desperate females. Clearly, he’d found them.

  They’d been watching him from the rear of the wagon the entire ride back to the farm. They were predatory creatures, which came as something of a shock to River because he’d never seen women like that before. Duchy had warned him, but he hadn’t believed the old man. He was under the misconception that only men could be predatory.

  He was about to discover differently.

  As the wagon and River and Duchy came to a halt next to the house, the young women in the rear of the wagon bailed out from all sides and made haste back to River just as he was dismounting. It sounded like a thundering herd and River put up his fists, instinctively, to defend himself when the old woman driving the wagon yelled again.

  “Back!” she bellowed, climbing down from the wagon bench. Stiffly, she made her way back to the three young women and the two men who were clearly outnumbered. “My girls are eager when it comes to men. We don’t see many in these parts. Ye must forgive them.”

  Duchy spoke because River was afraid to. “’Tis understandable,” he said. “Thank ye for yer hospitality. I don’t believe we know our hostess’ name.”

  “Lammy Linhope,” the old woman said. “These are my daughters – Sapphire, Garnet, and Amethyst. They are finest jewels in the north.”

  She introduced the young women in order – Sapphire, the brunette with hands as big as a hambone; Garnet, with dark red hair and a big split in her teeth, and then Amethyst, the blonde, who had the look of a man about her. From head to toe, she looked very much like a man and she was also the one who was looking at him the most hungrily, as if he had bewitched her somehow.

  It was a most disconcerting expression.

  “We met once, Madam,” Duchy said. “It was a couple of years ago when I was traveling from Newcastleton. I supped with ye and yer daughters. My name is Douglas Ashby-Kidd, but everyone calls me Duchy. Do ye recall?”

  The old woman peered at him. She had graying hair, rather wild, but strangely smooth skin and apple cheeks.

  “Duchy,” the woman repeated slowly. “Aye, I think I remember ye. Ye drank all of my ale.”

  “That would be me.”

  Her face lit up. “And I’ll forgive ye because ye’ve returned with yer son. ’Tis a fine, strong lad, he is.”

  Duchy shook his head. “This is my nephew, River,” he said. “River is looking for a…”

  River elbowed the old man so hard that he sent his uncle toppling sideways. Grabbing Duchy to straighten him out, River forced a smile.

  “I’m looking for a meal and a place to sleep, just like my uncle,” he said. “Thank ye for yer hospitality.”

  At that, the girls rushed him. There was no staying away from handsome River once he muttered his polite words. But Lammy moved forward, swatting at them, beating off Sapphire, but Garnet and Amethyst were already attached to River. Unhappily, Sapphire had the duty of taking care of the horses while Amethyst and Garnet all but dragged River into the stone cottage. Lammy and Duchy brought up the rear.

  The interior of the hut smelled like old food and hides. It was very musty, unnoticed by Lammy or her daughters, but it made River sneeze. As the old woman went to the hearth to stir up the embers, Amethyst and Garnet hauled River over to a bed that was against the wall. They fell onto it, pulling him down between them.

  “Lasses,” Lammy said warningly as she bent over the hearth. “Take care ye don’t hurt him. He is our guest.”

  River was regretting his decision to come to Chapeltown so very much. Every second that passed, he was beginning to regret it more. He could feel Garnet on one side and Amethyst on the other, breathing onto his neck, and he was terrified to look in either direction for fear one of them would try to steal a kiss. And then he might become ill. So, he kept his eyes on Lammy.

  “That is understandable,” he said evenly. “But I need to collect my bags from my horse, so I will return shortly.”

  With that, he tried to pull away, but Garnet and Amethyst held on to him like dead weight. He could see this was going to be a battle. Thwarted, he relaxed to rethink his strategy, noticing that when he relaxed, they also relaxed, so he lulled them into a false sense of security before yanking his arms free and bolting up from the bed.

  Startled, the women tried to follow, but Lammy was there with a switch she’d picked up from the hearth, beating them back. Thinking he was free, River made it to the door when the panel abruptly flew open to reveal Sapphire.

  The big brunette blocked him like a boulder dam.

  “Where are ye going?” she demanded, slinging his bags at him that she’d taken from his horse and hitting him in the chest. “I’ve brought yer things. Sit down, my fine lad. I’ve not had a chance to talk to ye.”

  With that, she shoved him back, pushing him right onto a stool that was planted next to Duchy, who was watching the situation with great amusement. Lammy had put her switch aside as she headed for a table that contained remnants of their last meal, including a pitcher of ale. She and Duchy were already sharing the drink as River began to plot how to escape his three captors.

  “What gives ye pleasure, River?” Sapphire asked as she began digging around for something in a cluttered corner of the cottage. “Do ye like to fight? Do ye like to ride fine horses? What do ye like? We don’t often get to talk to a fine young lad.”

  River didn’t want to have a long, drawn-out conversation with the trio. In desperation, he was wondering how they would react if he told them he was already married. Perhaps they would leave him alone. He was coming to think that their attraction to him might be because they believed him to be an unwed man or, at least, some fantasy in his mind told him so.

  If only it was that easy.

  “I like to spend time with my wife,” he said, watching three pairs of eyes look at him, greatly wounded. “She… she is a gentle creature, very beautiful. She has eyes the color of the green grass of Cumberland and hair is like spun gold. We like to sing together sometimes.”

  He had been rattling off the first woman that came to mind, which was the one he’d seen in the meadow before he’d been kidnapped. She had been a lovely woman so it wasn’t hard for him to imagine her as his wife, by his side. But as he watched, the wounded expressions faded from the three young women and they went back to staring at him with those hungry countenances.

  “We like to sing,” Sapphire declared, pulling up a citole f
rom the clutter she’d been rummaging through. “I’ll wager we sing better than yer wife.”

  “I’ll wager we do, too,” Amethyst said as if defiantly jealous of River’s imaginary wife. “Yer wife cannot play the citole like Sapphie, and she cannot write songs like Garnet. Go on, Nettie, sing him one of yer songs.”

  “’Tis true,” Lammy cut in, the foam from the ale on her upper lip as she sat down next to Duchy. “My Nettie can write beautiful songs. Show us, sweetheart. Sing something.”

  Garnet had a rather lascivious look about her. She was eyeing River as if she wanted to take a bite out of him, and not in a good way. River knew that expression but, usually, he was the one giving it to any young woman who caught his fancy. Now, he was getting a taste of what he so carelessly dished out. Standing up from the bed she’d been sitting on, Garnet smoothed at her dark red tangles.

  “I wrote a song about marriage,” she said. “Would ye like to hear that one?”

  All of the women nodded. Duchy nodded. But River didn’t nod. It didn’t matter; Garnet cleared her throat and began to sing in a slightly off-key voice.

  “I saw him when I was walking, was walking, was walking.

  He told me that he loved me, he loved me, he loved me.

  I took him to the chapel, the chapel, the chapel.

  We spoke our vows together, together, together.

  In joy we made our home bound, our home bound, our home bound,

  Until the day he left me, he left me, he left me.”

  She paused and hummed a few bars, which evidently weren’t to have any words, but she changed key and picked up another chorus.

  “And then I had to find him, to find him, to find him.

  He pleaded my forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness.

  If only things were different, were different, so different,

  He would not be dead and buried, buried, buried.

  Now, I see him when I’m walking, I’m walking, I’m walking.

  He lies beneath my footsteps, my footsteps, my footsteps.”

 

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