The Crusader’s Handfast
The Champions of Saint Euphemia #5
by
Claire Delacroix
A pilgrimage to Jerusalem with her mistress has left the maid Radegunde determined to live every moment to the fullest. She dreads the return to routine and her inevitable marriage to a reliable man, so convinces the warrior Duncan to make merry with her while their respective masters linger in Paris. Dancing and singing are not the sole revels in Radegunde’s plans, for she means to taste passion with this man who snared her attention in Venice. Duncan is convinced his own heart is lost forever, but Radegunde’s allure cannot be denied. When he surrenders to her seduction, Duncan suggests a handfast, knowing that even this honor is far less than she deserves. Radegunde, however, is not interested in half-measures and resolves to win Duncan’s love, no matter what the cost. Will she succeed in her quest? Or will their paths part forever, and do as much too soon?
The Champions of Saint Euphemia
The Crusader’s Bride • The Crusader’s Heart
The Crusader’s Kiss • The Crusader’s Vow
The Crusader’s Handfast
The Crusader’s Handfast
by Claire Delacroix
Digital Edition
Copyright © 2015, 2016 by Deborah A. Cooke
All rights reserved.
Cover by The Killion Group, Inc.
Formatting by Author E.M.S.
Without limiting the rights under copyright preserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
ISBN: 978-1-927477-83-0
Table of Contents
Cover Copy
The Champions of Saint Euphemia
Copyright
Dear Reader
Monday, August 24, 1187
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Tuesday, August 25, 1187
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Tuesday, September 1, 1187
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Wednesday, September 2, 1187
Chapter 8
Saturday, September 5, 1187
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Saturday, September 12, 1187
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Monday, September 14, 1187
Chapter 17
Tuesday, September 15, 1187
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Wednesday, September 16, 1187
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Friday, December 25, 1187
Chapter 22
Saturday, May 1, 1188
Chapter 23
Friday, August 13, 1188
Tuesday, September 6, 1188
Chapter 24
Author’s Note
Excerpt from THE CRUSADER’S VOW
About the Author
More Books by the Author
Dear Reader;
One of the fun things about writing the Champions of Saint Euphemia series has been following the entangled threads of the story. Each character has witnessed different elements of the adventure and knows different things, and I’ve enjoyed pulling all those perspectives together. It soon became clear, though, that there were some story elements that were missing from all of the books, and that those were likely scenes you’d want to see. What actually happens when Gaston and Ysmaine arrive at his inherited holding? What has Millard done and how is all resolved?
More importantly, whose story would include these details? Ysmaine and Gaston had already found their happily-ever-after before arriving at Gaston’s inherited estate. The option of an extended epilogue didn’t appeal to me. I had thought Bartholomew might witness events there, but he really is itching to get back to the estate he should have inherited to set all to rights. (Plus, it’s high time he met Anna.) Who would show us this side of the story?
I watch movies when I’m trying to solve plot riddles, and invariably they’re movies I’ve seen many times before. I watch and knit and my thoughts wander a bit, in search of solutions. I was watching Gosford Park, which I enjoy because the servants know so much about their employers, yet their employers for the most part are oblivious to this, when the penny dropped. Servants are secret-keepers! Who knows more about Valeroy and local gossip than Ysmaine? Her maid Radegunde, of course. In the first scene I wrote from her point of view in this new project, I learned that Radegunde was very interested in Duncan, the man-at-arms in service to Fergus.
That’s when I realized this series would have a fifth book. The Crusader’s Handfast begins in Paris, after the reliquary has been safely delivered to the Paris Temple, and features the romance of Radegunde and Duncan. Their story involves the revelation of secrets, and the resolution of hidden conflicts. I like that these two ensure the futures of their respective employers from behind the scenes, and I also like that Radegunde’s cheerfulness is so restorative for Duncan. In a way, their resilience and pragmatism makes them two of a kind, but their fates are not entirely their own. Are they star-crossed lovers? Or will the course of love run true?
The Crusader’s Handfast also jumped the queue in my writing schedule, and pushed out the publication of The Crusader’s Vow. Fergus and Leila’s story will be available early in 2017. As is typical of the last book in a linked series, there are lots of loose ends to tuck in and story elements to resolve.
The Crusader’s Handfast was originally published in monthly installments, beginning in December 2015. The entire story is available in a single volume now, in both digital and print editions. You can either read it after the other four books, or after The Crusader’s Bride and The Crusader’s Heart.
After The Crusader’s Vow is completed, my next medieval project will be republishing a number of my older books. Many of them have not been available in digital editions before, and all of them are being updated. I’ll also be working on The Brides of Inverfyre series, which will take us back to Scotland and that family at Kinfairlie.
Check on my website for updates or subscribe to my newsletter to be sure you don’t miss a new release. If you prefer to receive a single email whenever I have a new book published, please subscribe to my new release alert.
Until next time, I hope you are well and have plenty of good books to read.
All my best,
Claire
The Crusader’s Handfast
Monday, August 24, 1187
Feast Day of Saint Ouen and Saint Bartholomew
Chapter One
Paris
Radegunde leaned back against the wooden door to her lady’s chamber, listening to the laughter from within the room. Lady Ysmaine’s merriment was followed by the rumble of her lord husband’s chuckle, and the combination made Radegunde smile.
Radegunde had to believe that the pilgrimage had achieved its objective, for Lady Ysmaine had been lifted from her knees in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre by Gaston, a Templar knight who left the military order to return to France and claim his inherited holding. Radegunde had liked the knight from the outset, for he saw Lady Ysmaine’s merit even when she was at her lowest spirits and dressed in rags. He had been kind, and though Radegunde had been vexed with his refusal to consult with his wife on their journey west, all had come right in the end. It was clear to Radegunde on this night that the pair shared an affectionate match, and one that could only grow more ardent over the years to come.
While she was happy for her lady, there could be no more stark contrast with her own life than this. Radegunde had no man and no prospect of true love. Worse, almost two years of adventure had made her former life pale in comparison. While Lady Ysmaine embarked upon the life she had been raised to expect and did so with enthusiasm, Radegunde had little enthusiasm for her inevitable fate.
She knew her duty was to escort her lady to her new abode and that there she would undoubtedly be wed to some alemaker or other peasant perceived by her lord to be a good man. Radegunde had no doubt that Lord Gaston would take a man’s measure correctly, but the remainder of her life would be spent within miles of her birthplace. Instead of adventure and travel, her life would become monotonous, as it had been before the Lady Ysmaine had resolved to visit Jerusalem. Radegunde doubted that love was in her future, merely duty and perhaps, comfort.
This left her discontent.
Radegunde supposed that Châmont-sur-Maine was slightly different from Valeroy, but not enough to satisfy her. She could return to her family home instead of continuing to serve Ysmaine, but that had even less appeal. In Valeroy, she would be at the command of her mother and brothers, and her destiny would not be much different than with Lady Ysmaine.
She would not be in command of her own future, either way. Once a comfortable life wedded to a good man would have pleased her well.
Now Radegunde yearned for more. Far more. She might have died several times over on their pilgrimage, which only increased her resolve to savor each and every moment of her life, however long it might be. She wished to journey afar, even though she had fallen so ill in Jerusalem. She wished to dance and fall in love with a man similarly discontent with a routine life. She also wished to find that joy abed her lady seemed to enjoy with her husband, or even shout with pleasure as the courtesan Christina had done in Venice. She wished to awaken each day, alive to the promise of new experience.
On this night, Radegunde felt particularly restless. It had been a day to remember, to be sure. She had aided in saving the sacred reliquary of Saint Euphemia! In the last moment, the prize had nigh been snatched away. She had ridden with all speed through the streets of Paris, entrusted with the priceless treasure herself, to see their party’s goal achieved. She had ridden like the wind, fast by the side of the Templar Wulfe on his enormous destrier as he shouted for the road to clear. It had been more thrilling than any deed she had ever done, a feat fit for inclusion in a jongleur’s tale.
Then she had been allowed to kiss the reliquary during the mass at the Paris Temple.
To retire contentedly now was impossible. Indeed, her lord and lady celebrated triumph in a most intimate way. Radegunde did not wish to quietly sleep outside their door. Not on this night! She yearned for revels and celebration.
A stolen kiss.
Dancing!
Some reckless deed committed in the company of an alluring man.
She closed her eyes, knowing precisely which man she would choose. Aye, the knight Fergus had a stalwart companion, one Duncan MacDonald, a warrior whose blade swung true and who was well wrought. Duncan missed little, and his eyes oft gleamed with humor. Radegunde liked how he smiled, how there was a little silver at his temples, how he kept his counsel and seemed always to anticipate those matters which surprised others.
There was a man accustomed to adventure, and one who would make an excellent companion when facing any such peril.
Sadly, he appeared to be smitten with Christina, the courtesan who had joined their party in Venice but had abandoned them earlier in Paris. Lady Ysmaine was convinced that Christina and the Templar Wulfe must be safely together this night.
Radegunde had not been able to discern Duncan’s reaction to that before the party had separated. Fergus had accepted accommodation in the Paris Temple with his squires and Duncan, while Lord Gaston had taken a room at an inn for himself, his lady, his squire, Bartholomew, and Radegunde.
Would she see Duncan again? Radegunde supposed not and was disappointed by the realization. Fergus rode home to Scotland for his own nuptials, and surely Duncan would remain with him.
Indeed, Radegunde did not have to wait for her life to become dull again. It already had.
Still, she could not and would not sit alone.
Bartholomew was in the stables of the inn along with the steeds. Perhaps he would talk with her. Perhaps he would tell her more of Châmont-sur-Maine.
And its alemakers.
Radegunde wrinkled her nose, knowing a compromise when she heard it. Although Bartholomew was more taciturn than most of the men, he was better company than none at all.
The hour was not so late, although it was dark. Radegunde had smelled winter in the coolness of the evening air. Even though they stayed at an inn and Paris was said to be filled with vice, she had her small eating knife and was not afraid to defend herself. She pulled the knife from her belt and descended the shadowed stairs warily, though she doubted that many were awake. The inn catered to travelers and she knew well enough that after a day’s ride and a hot meal, a warm pallet could be most enticing.
Radegunde was on the last flight of stairs, when she realized that someone was yet awake in the darkened kitchen. The doorway to that room was at the base of the stairs and to the right. There was a door opposite the stairs and she knew that portal led to the small courtyard between the inn and its stables.
She gripped the hilt of her knife, watchful, but proceeded at the same steady pace. There was little to be gained by letting whoever it was know that she was aware of his or her presence. After all, there was no light in the kitchen. It seemed whoever lurked there did not wish to be discovered.
Radegunde’s heart skipped a little when she reached the second-to-last stair. Could she hear the breath of another? Was she being watched?
She supposed she was having the adventure she desired.
Radegunde descended the last steps boldly and reached for the door handle with her free hand. She managed only to lift the latch before she heard movement. A man seized her from behind even as she tried to spin in his grasp and shout.
She managed to emit only a small sound before he clapped a meaty hand over her mouth to silence her. He locked his other arm around her, trapping her arms against her side. When she writhed in his grip, he lifted her bodily from the floor. To her dismay, he was much larger and stronger than she.
And she could feel his erection against her buttocks.
Aye, she knew his intent well enough, but he would not find her to be easy prey. Radegunde deliberately shuddered, as if terrified, and let herself go limp. Let him think himself triumphant.
He did.
“Good fortune is mine this night,” he whispered into her ear, his tone gloating. “For the finest prize fairly steps into my grasp.” He chuckled even as his grip loosened slightly. Radegunde hoped he would become even more careless. She felt his fingers caress her cheek. “Perha
ps our thoughts are as one. Perhaps you came to seek me out.”
Radegunde stifled her revulsion. He smelled dirty and there was ale on his breath. She guessed that he was the man who had watched her from the shadows of the stables when their party arrived, for she had not liked the look of him even then.
“You need not fear that you will be sleepless once we have savored each other,” he promised and made to haul her toward the kitchen.
But Radegunde had heard sufficient of his plans.
She bit his hand in the same moment that she drove her heel upward and into his groin. She stabbed backward with the knife and though it was small, she buried it into his torso hard enough that he howled in pain. He loosed his grip as he stumbled back into the kitchen. Radegunde twisted the knife before she spun out of his grasp.
The Crusader's Handfast Page 1
