Knight of Desire Read online

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2009 by Peggy L. Brown

  Excerpt from Knight of Pleasure copyright © 2009 by Peggy L. Brown All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Book design and text composition by TexTech Inc.

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  First eBook Edition: July 2009

  ISBN: 978-0-446-55935-5

  Contents

  Copyright

  Praise for KNIGHT OF DESIRE

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Epilogue

  Historical Note

  A Preview of "Knight of Pleasure"

  Catherine. Catherine was in his bed.

  In three heartbeats, William went from dumbstruck to breathless. She was stunning, with her fair hair spilling over his pillow like a river of moonbeams.

  “You have come to me,” he said, not quite believing it.

  She clutched the bedclothes to her chin and nodded.

  Now that she was here, he could show her she had nothing to fear in his bed. He undressed quickly, dropping his clothes on the floor and lifted the bedcovers. Ignoring her sharp intake of breath, he slid in beside her.

  “Turn toward me, I want to look into your face.”

  He held her eyes as he ran his hand up her side to the tantalizing swell of her breast. Gritting his teeth, he reminded himself to go slow. He moved his hand back to her waist, then over the curve of her hip and down her thigh.

  He was tight as a bowstring. In a daze of desire, he kissed her face, her hair, her neck. Against her ear, he murmured, “I have dreamed of this.”

  Praise for KNIGHT OF DESIRE

  “A lavish historical romance, evocative and emotionally rich. KNIGHT OF DESIRE will transport you.”

  —Sophie Jordan, USA Today bestselling author of Sins of a Wicked Duke

  “KNIGHT OF DESIRE is akin to stepping into another century; Mallory has a grasp of history reminiscent of reading the great Roberta Gellis.”

  —Jackie Ivie, author of A Knight Well Spent

  “Stunning! Margaret Mallory writes with a freshness that dazzles.”

  —Gerri Russell, author of Warrior’s Lady

  “Medieval romance has a refreshing new voice in Margaret Mallory!”

  —Paula Quinn, author of A Highlander Never Surrenders

  “Mallory spins a masterful tale, blending history and passion into a sensuous delight.”

  —Sue-Ellen Welfonder, USA Today bestselling author of Seducing a Scottish Bride

  “Margaret Mallory writes with intense passion and beautiful, believable emotion.”

  —Lucy Monroe, bestselling author of Annabelle’s Courtship

  To Cathy Carter, my sister and librarian extraordinaire, who read my first pages and told me to go for it, and to my husband, Bob Cedarbaum, who supported me on faith without ever reading a word.

  Acknowledgments

  A first book requires a lot of thank-yous. I am tremendously grateful to my agent, Kevan Lyon, for her grace, wisdom, and unflagging support. Many thanks to the folks at Grand Central for taking a chance on a new author. Alex Logan deserves a prize for guiding me through the publishing process. Both she and Amy Pierpont provided thoughtful comments that made this a much better book. Thanks also to Claire Brown for the gorgeous cover. I would not have made it to publication without the guidance and support of other romance writers. Thank you to the members of the Olympia and the Greater Seattle RWA chapters, volunteer contest judges, presenters at the Emerald City Conferences, and my critique buddies.

  I am grateful to my father, who taught me all about heroes. Some men are honorable because of the example set for them. Others, like my father and the hero of this book, choose to be honorable in spite of it. Thanks also to my mother, who is probably the reason all my female characters are strong.

  I appreciate all the friends and family who were amazingly supportive when I decided to change careers and take up the uncertain life of a writer. Special thanks go to Cathy, Sharon, Nancy, Laurie, and Ginny for reading manuscript drafts before I had a clue what I was doing. Most of all, I thank my husband. When I wanted to quit my job to write just as the first college tuition payments came due, he told me, “Whatever you want, honey.” They don’t come better than that.

  Prologue

  Monmouth Castle

  England, near the Welsh border

  October 1400

  The creak of the stable door woke him.

  William’s hand went to the hilt of his blade as he lifted his head from the straw to listen. Soft footfalls crossed the floor. Soundlessly, he rose to his feet. No one entering the stable at this hour could have good intent.

  A hooded figure carrying a candle moved along the row of horses, causing them to snort and lift their heads. William waited while the man reached up to light a lantern hanging on a post. No matter what the intruder’s purpose, fire was the greater danger. The moment the man blew out his candle, William closed the distance between them in three running strides.

  As he launched himself, the intruder turned.

  William saw the swirl of skirts and a girl’s face, her eyes wide with alarm. Reflexively, he threw his arms around her and turned in midair to cushion her fall just before they slammed to the ground.

  “Please forgive me!” he said, untangling his limbs from hers and scrambling to his feet. “Have I hurt you?”

  He would have offered his hand to help her up, but she sprang to her feet as fast as he, her hair falling free of the hood in a mass of bright waves. She stood with her weight forward on her feet, eyeing him warily.

  William stared at her. How could he have mistaken this lovely and fragile-looking girl for a man? Judging by the fine silk gown showing at the gap in her cloak, this was a highborn lady he had
assaulted. Her features were delicate, her full lips parted.

  He squinted, trying to tell what color her eyes were in the dim light. Without thinking, he reached to pull a piece of straw from her hair. He drew back when he caught the gleam of the blade in her hand. He could take it from her easily enough, but it unsettled him to know he frightened her.

  “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” she demanded. She was breathing hard and pointing the blade at his heart. “Answer me at once, or I will scream and bring the guard.”

  “I am a knight in the service of the Earl of Northumberland,” he said in a calming voice. “I arrived late, and the hall was filled with guests, so I decided to bed here.”

  He was not about to tell her he was hiding in the stable. When he had delivered Northumberland’s message in the hall tonight, he had glimpsed a certain widow he knew from court. Preferring to sleep alone, he had made a quick escape.

  “Now that you know my purpose in being here, may I ask the same of you?” he said, cocking his head. “I believe it is you who should not be found out alone at this hour.”

  She did not answer him, but even in this poor light, he could see her cheeks flush.

  “Surely you know it is dangerous for a young lady to be wandering about alone at this time of night—especially with the castle crowded with men and the wine flowing freely.”

  “I could not sleep,” she said, her voice sharp with defiance. “So I decided to go for a ride.”

  “You cannot go out riding by yourself in the middle of the night!” Lowering his voice, he added, “Really, you cannot be that foolish.”

  Her eyes flashed as she pressed her lips together—and a disturbing explanation occurred to him.

  “If it is a man you are meeting, he does not value you as he should to ask you to come out alone like this.” He judged her to be about sixteen, half a dozen years younger than he was. Young enough, he supposed, to be that naive.

  “Running to a man?” she said, rolling her eyes heavenward. “Now, that would be foolish.”

  She slid her knife into the sheath at her belt, apparently deciding he was not a threat after all. Before he could feel much relief at that, she turned and reached for the bridle hanging on the post next to her.

  “I am going now,” she announced, bridle in hand.

  “I cannot let you,” he said, wondering how he would stop her. It would cause considerable trouble for them both if he carried her to her rooms, kicking and screaming, at this time of night.

  “Surely this can wait for the morning,” he argued.

  She stared at him with a grim intensity that made him wonder what trick she would try to get past him.

  “If I tell you the reason I cannot wait,” she said finally, “will you agree to let me go?”

  He nodded, though he still had every intention of stopping her.

  “Tomorrow I am to be married.”

  The surge of disappointment in his chest caught him by surprise. Although he was told the castle was crowded because of a wedding, it had not occurred to him that this achingly lovely girl could be the bride.

  When he did not speak, she evidently concluded more explanation was required to convince him to let her go. “I do not expect this will be a happy marriage for me,” she said, lifting her chin. “My betrothed is a man I can neither like nor admire.”

  “Then you must tell your father; perhaps he will change his mind.” Even as he said it, William knew that with the wedding set for tomorrow, it was far too late for this.

  “I am the only heir to an important castle,” she said impatiently. “I could not expect my father or the king to take my wishes into account in deciding what man will have it.”

  “What is your objection to the man?” William had no right to ask, but he wanted to know. He wondered if this young innocent was being married off to some lecher old enough to be her grandfather. It was common enough.

  “He has meanness in him, I have seen it.” Her eyes were solemn and unblinking. “He is not a man to be trusted.”

  Her response surprised him once again. Yet, he did not doubt she gave him the truth as she saw it.

  “Tomorrow I will do what my father and my king require of me and wed this man. From that time forward, I will have to do as my husband bids and submit to him in all things.”

  William, of course, thought of the man taking her to bed and wondered if she truly understood all that her words implied.

  “Tonight you must let me have this last hour of freedom,” she said, her voice determined. “It is not so much to ask.”

  William could have told her she should trust the judgment of her father and her king, that surely they would not give her to a man so undeserving. But he did not believe it himself.

  “I will ride with you,” he said, “or you shall not go.”

  She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him for a long moment. With the lamp at his back, the girl could not see him nearly as well as he could see her. A double advantage, since he did not want to frighten her. He was well aware that, despite his youth, there was something about his strong features and serious countenance that intimidated even experienced warriors.

  “You must let me do that for you,” he said, holding out his hand for the bridle. He almost sighed aloud in relief when she finally nodded and dropped it in his hand.

  As he saddled the horses, he tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him this was madness. God’s beard, the king himself had a hand in arranging this marriage. If he was caught taking her out alone at night on the eve of her wedding, the king would have him flailed alive.

  “Keep your head down,” he instructed as they rode across the outer bailey toward the gate. “Make certain your cloak covers your gown—and every strand of that fair hair.”

  The guards remembered he arrived carrying messages from Northumberland, “the “King-maker.” They gave him no trouble.

  William and the girl rode out into the cold, starlit night. Once they reached the path that ran along the river, she took the lead. She rode her horse hard, as if chased by the devil. When at last she reined her horse in, William pulled up beside her, his horse’s sides heaving.

  “Thank you for this,” she said, giving him a smile that made his heart tighten in his chest.

  His breath came quickly as he stared at her. She was stunning with her face aglow with happiness and her fair hair shining all about her in the moonlight. When she flung her arms out and threw her head back to laugh at the stars, he stopped breathing altogether.

  Before he could gather his wits, she slipped off her horse and ran up the riverbank. He tied their horses and followed. Pushing aside thoughts of how dangerous it was for them to be here, he spread his cloak for her on the damp ground beneath the trees.

  She sat beside him in silence, her gaze fixed on the swath of moonlight reflected on the moving surface of the dark river below. As she watched the river, he studied her profile and breathed in her scent. He thought she had long since forgotten his presence when she finally spoke.

  “I will remember this night always,” she said, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “I will hold it to my heart as a happy memory when I have need of one.”

  He took hold of her hand when she touched him and did not let it go.

  She fell silent again, and he sensed that her thoughts, unlike his own, were far away again. Experienced as he was with women, he was surprised by his intense reaction to this girl. All of his senses were alive with the nearness of her—his skin almost vibrated with it. And yet, he felt a profound happiness just sitting here with her and gazing at the river on this chilly autumn night. He never wanted to leave.

  When she shivered, he forced himself to break the spell. “You are cold, and we have been gone too long already. If someone notices you are missing…”

  He did not finish. She knew as well as he the disaster that would follow if she were caught. Resigned, she let him help her to her feet.

  They rode back at a slowe
r pace, riding side by side this time, still saying little. William tried to fix it all in his memory: the moonlight, the dark river, the gentle snorting of their horses. The girl, he knew, he could not forget.

  The guards at the gate wordlessly let them in. When they reached the stable, William helped her dismount. The feel of his hands on her slender waist as he set her down—closer to him than was proper—made his heart race and his head feel light.

  Looking down at her, he felt a longing so intense it caught at his breath. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Only when she took a step back did he realize he had been about to kiss her. It was wrong for many reasons, but he wished with all his heart he had done it. With a sigh, he left her just inside the doorway and led the horses into the pitch-black of the stable.

  When he returned, she whispered, “I am most grateful to you.”

  “Lady, I would save you from this marriage if I knew how.”

  He spoke in a rush, not expecting to say the foolish words that were in his heart. He was as good as any man with a sword, but he had no weapon to wield in this fight. Someday, he would be a man to be reckoned with, a man with lands and power. But as a landless knight, he could only put her at risk by interfering with the king’s plans.

  “I will do my duty and follow the wishes of my father and my king,” she said in a strong voice. “But I thank you for wishing it could be otherwise.”

  He wished he could see her better. Impulsively, he reached out to trace the outline of her cheek with his fingers. Before he knew what he was doing, he had her face cupped in his hands. He felt her lean toward him. This time, he did not stop himself.

  Very softly, he brushed his lips against hers. At the first touch, a shot of lust ran through him, hitting him so hard he felt light-headed and weak in the knees. He pressed his mouth hard against hers. Dimly, through his raging desire, he was aware of the innocence of her kiss. He willed himself to keep his hands where they were and not give in to the overpowering urge to reach for her body. If she had shown the slightest sign she had been down this path before, he would have had her down on the straw at their feet.