by Alexa Aston
“Oh, Mother was most beautiful. I am not.”
Her uncle laughed. “Of course, you are. You’re a Lovet. We are known for our good looks.”
“But . . . I am Beatrice Bordel.”
He frowned. “Bordel was your mother’s maiden name. She was the daughter of Sir Henry Bordel. I suppose she chose to raise you under that name.”
Beatrice slowly nodded. “Aye, Sir Henry Bordel was my grandfather.”
Gilbert put an arm about her shoulder. “Your mother suffered after she lost your father—it weakened her mind. It made her withdraw. She rarely spoke. And then one day, she was gone from Lovet Castle. We didn’t know where to find you.”
“We lived with my grandfather in his manor house,” she said.
Her uncle looked at her steadily. “I can’t understand why your mother slipped away and hid you from us all these years, but I assure you that you are a Lovet. I’m afraid Lucy’s sorrow may have turned her against us.” Gilbert took her hands. “Believe me, Beatrice, when I tell you that we looked high and low for you. You had another grandfather and grandmother that were heartbroken at the loss of their son—and you. I inherited the title and estate upon my father’s death since Richard was gone. And in all these years, I’ve never stopped looking for you.”
Gilbert looked to Sir Thomas, who’d left his mount and came to stand next to them.
“Thomas is my closest friend. He knows how hard I’ve tried to locate you.”
“And then I met you by pure luck at that tavern, in the company of your husband,” Sir Thomas said. “I recognized you straight away. You are Lucy made over. When I heard your name was Beatrice, I knew I must ride in haste to tell Gilbert. I had no doubt that his niece had been found. It was why I seemed so curious as to your final destination and asked so many questions. I apologize if I seemed rude.”
Her uncle smoothed her hair. “You have family to meet, Beatrice. Though your grandfather passed away several years ago, your grandmother is still alive. Then there’s my wife and our four children—your cousins. We’d be honored to have you come to visit us. It would give us a chance to become acquainted with you again.”
Beatrice’s head swirled with all of this news. To think she had family. It bewildered her that her mother had left her husband’s kin behind without a word. It also hurt to know that she’d grown up alone and isolated when she could’ve been surrounded by all her cousins at her father’s home. She couldn’t let these thoughts overwhelm her, though, for she’d found the perfect people to help bring Raynor back to her.
Beatrice would rely on her family.
“I’m truly pleased to meet you, Uncle.” She glanced to Sir Thomas. “And I thank you, Sir Thomas, for your role in this reunion. But I must ask something of you and the knights that accompany you.”
“Ask anything, child,” Gilbert said.
“My husband, Lord Raynor Le Roux, Baron of Ashcroft, is being held in the dungeons at Brookhaven. We need to rescue him from the madman that placed him there.”
She quickly explained how Edwin Stollers had become enamored with her, glossing over the fact that he’d voided his own betrothal contract to marry her. Beatrice also kept secret that she and Raynor had been married for less than a day. Sir Thomas had met them when they pretended to be husband and wife, and she would leave him with that impression. They only needed to know that Stollers was obsessed with her and had imprisoned Raynor so he could marry her.
“This is very troubling,” Gilbert said. “To think a nobleman would act in such a despicable manner.”
“He is nothing like Sir Henry Stollers, his grandfather. He is barely a man, drunk on his new title and power since Sir Henry’s recent death. We must rescue Raynor. I can’t live without him. He is everything to me.”
“Never fear, Beatrice.” Gilbert strode toward his men. Sir Thomas followed him.
Ronald turned to her. “You have a formidable uncle, my lady. The Lovet name is well known, even in the south. You couldn’t have found a more powerful ally.”
Beatrice expelled a long sigh of relief. She offered thanks to the Blessed Virgin for watching over her and bringing her uncle and his men to her in such a time of crisis.
Ronald handed her up onto Fury. She clasped the reins firmly as her uncle and Sir Thomas also mounted their horses.
“We ride for Brookhaven!” Gilbert called.
His horse darted forward to lead his men, with Sir Thomas bringing up the rear. Beatrice and Ronald fell into place behind them. The quick pace her uncle set had them back at the gates of Brookhaven in no time.
“Gatekeeper!” roared her uncle.
Gilbert Lovet was no longer the sweet, affectionate man who’d spoken softly to her upon their meeting. Beatrice now saw the warrior coming out in him. This was a man who would let nothing stand in their way. Raynor was as good as freed.
“My lord?” the gatekeeper called, his eyes skimming over the group that numbered a dozen men with her uncle.
“The Earl of Lovet wishes to see the lord in charge of Brookhaven. Open the gates now,” he commanded.
Beatrice hadn’t known Uncle Gilbert was an earl. She realized he was far more powerful than Edwin Stollers, in both title and riches. His good character, too, was obvious. Stollers would never be the man her uncle was.
She grinned. Raynor was going to love her new family.
They rode through the gates and crossed the outer and inner baileys at a brisk pace. Gilbert brought their horses directly to the steps of the keep. He and Sir Thomas dismounted while his ten knights remained in the saddle. Ronald helped her from Fury’s back, and the four of them climbed the stairs and entered the keep unannounced.
“I left Stollers in his solar,” Beatrice explained. Before she could continue, the quiet inside the keep was broken with a single word shouted for all to hear.
“Whore!”
She glanced up and saw Stollers racing down the stairs, madness in his eyes. His swollen nose dominated his face. Dried blood remained on his chin and ran down the front of his cotehardie.
Before she could react, he reached her, his fist raised to strike. Gilbert stepped between them.
“Do you know who I am?” her uncle asked, his voice low and deadly.
Stollers blinked several times and stepped back, as if he only now saw that others stood with her. “I . . . do. My lord, what brings you to Brookhaven?”
Gilbert took a menacing step forward and Stollers shrank back. “Do you know that Lady Beatrice, the woman you just called a whore, is my niece?”
Instant fear filled Stollers’ eyes.
“Nay, I did not. Forgive me, my lord.” He glanced to Beatrice. “I apologize, my lady. ’Twas a misunderstanding on my part.”
She glared at him. “I do not accept your apology.” Beatrice raised her chin a notch and looked to her uncle.
“Do you, Edwin Stollers, Baron of Brookhaven, hold my niece’s husband, the Baron of Ashcroft, in your dungeons?”
“Her . . . husband?” Fear quickly replaced shock on the nobleman’s face. He visibly quaked.
Beatrice did not suppress the smile that came as she looked on with interest.
“I’ll see that he’s brought to you at once, my lord.”
Gilbert looked down at Stollers in disgust. “You’re a sniveling coward, Stollers, not fit to lick the boots of your grandfather.” His eyes narrowed as his face came close to his enemy’s. “Watch your step. If anything you do displeases me, I’ll be sure the king hears of it and strips you of everything. I am Edward’s man, and I have his ear. And I never make idle threats.”
Stollers merely bobbed his head and fled.
Beatrice stepped next to her uncle and laid a hand on his sleeve. “You were magnificent, Uncle. I am proud to call you family.”
He threw an arm about her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I look forward to meeting this husband of yours. Anyone smart enough to marry my niece is a man to be reckoned with.”
*
&nb
sp; Raynor sat on the damp, chilled ground, his forearms resting on his knees. He’d nearly gone out of his mind at what might be happening above stairs. Beatrice was so small and needed his protection. He worried what Stollers might be capable of. Trying to bribe the guards had come to no avail. They hadn’t spoken to him since.
How could he escape this dungeon cell and rescue his wife?
He heard a shuffling noise and came to his feet. Edwin Stollers ventured into his line of sight. He murmured something to the guard closest to him. The soldier retrieved the keys hanging on the wall and slid one into the lock of the cell door. The man turned it and pulled open the door. Raynor stepped out, and the guard slammed it behind him.
Stollers looked a mess. His nose sat crooked on his face and was twice its normal size. Raynor fought the smile that threatened to break out. It seemed his lessons with Beatrice had come to fruition.
“My most profound apology, my lord,” Stollers stammered. “I’m sorry for any miscommunication that came between us. You’re free to go.”
“Did Lady Beatrice break your nose?”
“She did, my lord,” he sputtered.
“And did she cause you any other pain?”
Stollers merely nodded.
“Good,” Raynor said.
“Your wife . . . she is waiting for you. Upstairs. With her uncle. You’re to join them at once.”
Wife? Stollers knew they had married. And . . . her uncle?
Raynor stared at Stollers until the man finally met his eyes. “Never venture south, Stollers. If you do, I will kill you.”
“I . . . understand, my lord. I promise that you won’t catch sight of me as long as you live.”
Raynor strode up the stairs without a backward glance. His curiosity built the entire way. He pushed open the heavy door that led to the first floor of the keep and hurried down a passageway toward the great hall.
“Raynor!”
He caught sight of Beatrice, his one true love, the one woman he never wanted to be parted from again.
They ran to each other and Raynor swept her up into his arms. His mouth sought hers in a hungry kiss. Beatrice’s arms wound about his neck. He slowly lowered her to her feet, drinking her in, tasting her sweetness, drowning in her scent.
She was the one who broke their kiss. “I love you,” she exclaimed and returned her lips to his for another lingering kiss. Beatrice pulled away again. “I have so much to tell you,” she said eagerly.
“I already know you broke Stollers’ nose.”
She beamed. “I did, indeed, my lord husband, and I enjoyed doing so. I also stomped on his foot and kicked him in the groin. You would have been so proud to see me in action.”
He rewarded her with a swift kiss. “I would’ve paid good coin to have seen that, sweetheart.” Raynor glanced at the group staring at them. Each man wore a smile on his face. Raynor recognized Sir Thomas Applegate and Ronald, the soldier from Ashcroft who held Beatrice’s lute in his hand, but the third proved unfamiliar to him.
“I hear you are my wife’s uncle,” he called out. He wrapped an arm about her waist and went to meet the man.
The nobleman thrust out a hand. “I’m Gilbert Lovet and I am Beatrice’s uncle. I was brother to her father Richard.”
Raynor shook his hand. “Even I have heard of the powerful Earl of Lovet,” he said. “I didn’t know I’d married into such a lofty family.”
“I had no idea, Raynor,” Beatrice exclaimed. “After I bashed Stollers around, I rode Fury to seek help and—”
“You rode Fury?” he asked, astonished that she would climb onto the large beast.
“Aye, I did. It felt marvelous.”
“She always was a horsewoman. From the time she was three,” noted Gilbert, the pride evident in his voice.
“And I caught up to Ronald on the road.”
Ronald grinned at him and bowed his head. “My lord. I brought news of your brother.”
“Is Peter ill?” Raynor asked, worried why a messenger had been sent such a long way.
“Nay, my lord. He’s decided to seek a quieter life in a monastery and renounced the title. You are now Baron of Ashcroft, my lord.”
The news stunned Raynor. He looked down at a smiling Beatrice.
“Ronald and I came across my uncle and Sir Thomas on the road. He recognized me at the inn where we met.”
Applegate said, “She is the spitting image of her mother at that age, my lord. I had no doubt she was Sir Richard and Lady Lucy’s missing daughter. And when I heard her name was Beatrice, I knew I must ride to my friend Gilbert and tell him his long-lost niece had finally been found.”
“Lucy was mad with grief after my brother’s death,” Gilbert explained. “She disappeared with Beatrice years ago. From what my niece says, Lucy returned to her father’s household. I searched but never found any sign of them. Then Thomas brought me the good news, so I had to seek her out.”
“I have a family, Raynor,” Beatrice added. “A grandmother and aunt. And cousins!”
She rested her head against his chest. Raynor could feel the happiness radiating from her.
“So you rode my horse. Brought back help in one of the most powerful men of the north, who just happens to be your uncle. And you gained my release.” Raynor kissed the top of her head. “I worried that you’d need rescuing but, instead, you have saved me. I’d say you’ve put in a good day’s work, Wife. A very good day.”
“Let us depart this foul place,” Gilbert said. Raynor caught a hopeful look in the earl’s eye. “Might I talk you into stopping at Lovet Castle on your way home? I know you’re the new baron and eager to return to your estate, but we’d be pleased to host you and my niece for a few days.”
Raynor looked down at the woman who held his heart. “What do you say, my love? Shall we go meet this family of yours?”
Beatrice nodded, tears brimming in her eyes.
“Then let’s be off,” he said. As the men turned away and headed for the door, Raynor bent to steal one last, precious kiss from his wife, Beatrice, Baroness of Ashcroft. Mother of his future children.
And the love of his life.
*
“Raynor!” Beatrice exclaimed from the top of the steps that led to the keep. “I was afraid you’d be late. Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn will arrive at any moment. Oh, I’m so nervous.” She began twisting her wedding ring as she worried her bottom lip.
“I told you I’d return in time to greet them.” He raced up the steps and gave her a soft kiss. For a moment, the world stopped as he reveled in the touch of his lips on hers.
“There’s no time for kissing,” she scolded.
“I always believe there’s time for kissing,” he replied, stealing another quick one from her. “And you’ve nothing to fear. You will adore Geoffrey and Merryn. They are my closest friends.”
“But what if they don’t like me?”
“What’s not to like? You’re an intelligent woman, Beatrice Le Roux. One of beauty and passion and charm. My greatest fear is that they’ll like you even more than they do me.”
She punched his arm good-naturedly. “You tease me, Husband.”
Raynor cupped her cheek. “That I do, Wife. But I have something that I believe will give you confidence when you meet my friends.”
Her eyes lit with curiosity. “You brought me something?”
“I did, but you need to close your eyes. It’s a surprise.”
“Raynor!”
“Do not Raynor me. Simply shut your eyes and practice a little patience.”
“And if I can’t?”
He grinned. “Then I’ll take off running. And hope I run faster than you, for if you catch me? You might blacken my eye and bloody my nose. Then what would Geoffrey and Merryn think of you?”
Beatrice pursed her lips. “If Merryn is half the woman you describe, then I’d say she’ll approve of me putting you in your place.”
Raynor burst out laughing. “You would be right about that. But c
ome, Beatrice. I am serious. Close your eyes, sweetheart.”
She did as he asked. He removed the gift from his pocket and went to stand behind her. His arms lifted over her and he fastened the clasp about her neck. Then his fingers slid down her breasts and splayed across her stomach, drawing her into him.
He watched as she looked down. Her hands came up to touch the jewelry. Satisfaction filled him when she gasped. Beatrice wiggled, freeing herself from his grasp. She turned to face him.
Raynor would never forget the look of joy that spread across her lovely face.
“My mother’s pearl necklace! However did you get it back?” She fingered the piece again, then rested her palms against his chest. Her large brown eyes met his. Raynor’s insides melted.
“I’m a most persuasive man.” he quipped. “And this Amfrid fellow wanted to please me more than anything.”
“I love you,” Beatrice said. “Not only for returning my mother’s necklace to me, but for being the man you are each day.”
“I love you more,” Raynor told her. “With each passing day, my love for you grows.”
“Are you two so much in love that you didn’t even hear our horses arrive?”
Raynor looked down and saw Geoffrey and Merryn mounting the steps. The two men pounded each other hard on the back in greeting, while Merryn gave Beatrice a warm hug.
“What a lovely necklace,” Merryn said.
Beatrice cast a loving smile at him. “There’s a story behind it,” she confided to Merryn.
Merryn’s eyes danced with interest. “I’m sure you have several stories for me.” She linked her arm through Beatrice’s. “I want to hear everything. How you met. How you fell in love. And in return, I’ll tell you a few interesting stories about your husband.”
The women started into the keep. As they reached the door, Beatrice looked back over her shoulder and winked at Raynor.
Raynor blew her a kiss as Geoffrey began laughing.
“My cousin—in love and finally married.” Geoffrey threw an arm about Raynor’s shoulder. “Come on, Baron Le Roux. We have a lot to discuss.”
Raynor looked at his best friend. “We do, indeed. It’s a story that ends in love. We are lucky men, Geoffrey de Montfort. Lucky men, indeed, for finding the women we have.”
