A Knight's Temptation (Knight's Series Book 3) Read online

  A Knight’s Temptation

  Knight’s Series Book 3

  By

  Catherine Kean

  Dedication:

  For my father, David Lord. Thank you for sharing your love of history with me.

  Published by Catherine Kean

  P.O. Box 917624

  Longwood, FL 32791-7624

  Visit Catherine’s website at http://www.catherinekean.com

  Copyright © 2012 by Catherine Kean

  All elements of this book are fictional.

  The author reserves all rights to this eBook.

  This eBook may not be re-sold or reproduced in any way.

  This novel is a reissue and was previously published in mass market paperback.

  Cover design by Kimberly Killion, Hot Damn Designs

  Acknowledgments:

  Special thanks to Lisa Ault and Diane Pennea, who gave me lots of great information on allergic reactions to bee stings.

  Contents

  Prologue

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  More from Catherine Kean

  Prologue

  Moydenshire, England

  Summer 1183

  “Tie her well. She must not get free.”

  Eight-year-old Leona Ransley twisted her hands, bound behind the oak tree. Turning her head against the bark, she tried to catch the attention of her eleven-year-old brother, Warden, busy securing the rope, but the broad tree trunk hid him from view. When he yanked the rope tighter, she fought not to wince.

  “Hurry up, Ward.”

  Leona glared at the blond boy who’d called to her brother and blew aside a strand of hair loosened from her braid. The boy’s name was Aldwin Treynarde, and he was the son of an earl and a new friend of Ward’s. Aldwin stood a few yards in front of her, brandishing a stick as though it were a knight’s sword, his eyes bright with excitement. How she wished her brother had never met him!

  Narrowing her eyes to what she hoped was a threatening squint, she said, “I do not want to play this game. Ward, untie me.” She tugged her arms, hoping to thwart his binding.

  “Nay.” Aldwin’s stick pressed into her shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt through the layers of her sage green silk gown and chemise, but to tell her he was in command.

  Her bound hands clenched into fists. If she wasn’t tied, she’d slam her fist into his jaw, a perfect punch the way Ward had taught her. Even if Aldwin was the son of a rich earl and her parents had told her to be on her best, ladylike behavior today.

  “Ward,” she said between her teeth. “Untie—”

  “We need a maiden for our game,” Aldwin cut in. “You will stay bound. And you will play your part exactly as I say.” His mouth tilting in a grin, he flicked aside her loose hair with his stick. The whistling sound sent a shiver racing down her spine.

  “Stop that,” she bit out.

  “Silence, maiden.”

  “I do not have to listen to you. Neither does my brother.”

  Aldwin laughed as though she’d said something foolish, pivoted away, and rammed his stick at an imaginary foe.

  The ropes around her wrists tightened again. “Ward,” she called, but at that moment, Aldwin loosed a triumphant roar, the force of his cry drowning hers. His sword listed toward the ground, suggesting his invisible opponent had collapsed, dead. Yelling again, he waved his sword in the air.

  Swallowing the awful taste gathering at the back of her mouth, she realized she’d have to appeal to Ward the moment he came out from behind the tree. After all, he wasn’t close friends with Aldwin. They’d only met that day, when the noble families invited to this riverside keep in Southern Moydenshire had headed into the great hall for the midday feast; the castle was ruled by a friend of her father’s, and the meal was to precede an important meeting of all the lords.

  Aldwin and Ward had sat beside each other, and the boys had giggled through the entire meal—most annoying, when, for the first time in as long as Leona could remember, her brother wouldn’t tell her what was so amusing.

  When the noblemen had gathered at the lord’s table to discuss matters of estate, and Leona’s mother had gone with the other ladies to tour the rose garden, Leona had slipped outside with Aldwin and Ward to the nearby field. They’d promised she’d be part of their game.

  How she’d looked forward to sword fighting with sticks, playing chase in the field near the stream, and skipping stones across the water. Head held high, she’d barely restrained an excited grin. Her whole body longed for the moment when she’d jab Aldwin in the belly with her stick. He’d cry out in shock. His face might even go red with embarrassment, because she’d bested him. She’d prove to him that she might only be eight years old, while he was at least twelve, but she was no helpless girl.

  Born a fighter, her mother always said with a tender smile. I will never forget how you kicked, fussed, and flailed your little fists while the midwives tended you. A remarkably strong, healthy girl, they said. ’Tis why your father and I named you Leona. Your name means “lioness.”

  How, then, had she become the damsel tied to the tree awaiting rescue?

  A tug on Leona’s long braid made her grimace. Straining to glance behind her, she scowled. “Ward!”

  Her brother appeared at her side. The silk ribbon that had wrapped around the end of her braid dangled from his fingers. “A token from you, maiden,” he said, holding the ribbon aloft, “for us knights to take into battle.” Shoving tousled, brown hair from his eyes, he winked at her with enough charm to melt a frozen puddle. “All right, sis?”

  “Nay. Did you not hear me? I do not want to play anymore.”

  Grass crunched as Aldwin drew near. Ward grinned at him. Gnawing the middle of the ribbon, he looked back at her. “I will not tie your legs. I think you are well enough bound.”

  Leona’s jaw dropped on a gasp. Her brother couldn’t have missed her saying she didn’t want to take part any longer. A dull ache squeezed her stomach. He’d never gone against her wishes before today. Neither did he seem to notice her dismay.

  “Ward.” She tried not to shout.

  “What?”

  Why is Aldwin’s game more important than I am? “Mother will not be pleased that you ruined my ribbon.”

  The silk began to fray. Ward ripped it in half and handed part to Aldwin. “If she asks, say you lost it. You will not tell on me, sis, will you?”

  “Let me go free, and I will not tell.”

  Ward exchanged a glance with Aldwin, and then winked at her. A look that said, I know you won’t betray me. You owe me the favor many times over.

  “Remember what I told you about the game,” Aldwin said while he began tying his ribbon scrap around his stick. “Count to ten. Then, scream as if you are being attacked by Saracens who plan to cut out your guts and eat them raw.”

  Grabbing his own stick from the ground, Ward swished it to and fro. “Ha! We two fearless crusaders will rush to your rescue.”

  “Ha!” Aldwin roared, leaping over a tree root. He lunged, slashing at another imaginary foe, then at a bee flying past. His blond
hair shone in the sunlight and he moved with remarkable grace, each move elegant and precise.

  Leona shook her head. “Ward, untie me. Let us go skip rocks. Or, better yet, duel.” She shot Aldwin a fierce stare. “The losers must forfeit their evening meal.”

  Aldwin’s mouth tilted in a smug grin. He swatted at another bee buzzing around him. “Girls do not fight.”

  Angry heat burned her face. “I can wield a stick as well as you.”

  His brows raised. He clearly didn’t believe her.

  Oh, how she couldn’t wait to trounce him! “Free me. I will gladly prove you wrong.”

  Aldwin snorted and looked about to roar with laughter.

  “Arrogant turd,” she muttered.

  Ward choked. He looked unsure whether to guffaw or yell at her.

  A frown darkened Aldwin’s face. Pinning her with his gaze, he murmured, “What did you say?”

  She smiled back, very sweetly, for her mother wasn’t here to scold her for her unladylike oath, and she’d learned the word turd from Ward.

  Her brother raised his hands, obviously eager to stop the confrontation. “Sis, please. As Aldwin said, we need a maiden for this game. Play along. When ’tis done, we will duel.”

  She glanced over at Aldwin. Still glowering. Good.

  Raising her chin to a defiant tilt, she looked back at Ward. “Promise we will fight later?”

  “Aye.”

  Aldwin stepped forward. Come close enough for me to kick you, she silently pleaded. Alas, he didn’t.

  “’Tis settled,” he said in that take-command voice. “One last matter, and we will start.”

  “What matter?” Leona’s smile faded. She was securely tied, unable to escape this wretched game even though she didn’t want to play. What more could he want from her?

  Aldwin looked at Ward, and they both giggled.

  She swallowed a groan. When her brother’s laugh was tinged with mischief, that usually meant trouble. For her.

  “Before the king’s knights leave for crusade,” Aldwin said, “they kiss their maiden.”

  What?! “Nay.”

  “A promise they will protect her and return for her.”

  “Where did you learn that? You invented it for this stupid game.”

  “Nay,” Aldwin growled. “’Tis well known—”

  “I am not kissing you! Not in this game. Not ever!” She struggled anew. “Ward!”

  While she thrashed, her brother strode to her side and pressed a noisy kiss upon her cheek. “Fare thee well, fair maiden.”

  As Ward stepped back, Aldwin shook his head. Pulling a dangling thread from the ribbon around his stick, he said, “’Twas not a real kiss.”

  “She is my sister. ’Tis not natural to kiss her on the mouth.”

  On the mouth? Oh, nay. Nay. Nay!

  “Ward,” she shrieked, “when I get free—”

  With a lazy swagger, Aldwin crossed to her. Before she could twist her body to kick him, his hand closed on her jaw and forced her chin up. The earthy scent of bark clung to his fingers. She turned her head from side to side, refusing to hold still and accept his kiss. Her breath hissed between her teeth. “Do not dare to kiss me!”

  “Fare thee well, Maiden of the Biting Words.” Aldwin’s mouth pressed to hers.

  Leona screamed, the sound trapped by his lips. Shocked fury turned her body numb.

  The bold kiss took less than the space of one breath. With a lopsided grin, Aldwin stepped away, grabbed Ward’s arm, and pulled him to a lope. “Come on.”

  She blinked. Choked. “You—”

  Laughing and shoving each other as they ran, the boys disappeared into the brush fringing the nearby trees. Startled birds winged up from the undergrowth, then swooped down into the field.

  “Turd, turd, turd!” She kicked the dirt, sending earth spraying across the web of tree roots. She kicked a few more times, for good measure. Dropping her head back against the trunk, she groaned.

  The familiar tapestry of sounds—humming insects, chirping birds, and whispering tree leaves—settled across the field.

  A bee flew up beside her. She shifted her upper body, willing the insect to fly away. Another joined it, circling the tree, edging closer to her hair.

  Unease crawled over her skin. She sucked in a sharp breath as one of the bees buzzed next to her ear. She jerked her head sideways. How long till the boys came to her rescue?

  When another bee began to circle her, a shriek scratched her throat. She couldn’t scream. If she did so before they’d run very far, Aldwin would call her a wobbly-kneed coward. See, you are a helpless girl, he’d taunt. Go on. Admit you were wrong. His mocking smile burned into her thoughts.

  Blocking out the steady hum of the bees, she forced herself to count. “One,” she said between her teeth. “Two . . .”

  A tickling sensation began at her ankle, at the top of her leather shoe. Something was climbing up her leg, beneath her silk chemise. She shifted her weight. “Three. Four . . .”

  A painful pinch. Another. Straining against her bonds, Leona glanced down.

  Bees swarmed on the ground by her feet.

  A nest.

  With a frantic gasp, she dug her fingernails into the ropes. Tried to find a weak spot in the knot.

  A bee landed on her skirt and crawled upward. Another landed on her arm.

  Bzzz.

  “Ward!” she shrieked, pulling against her bonds. “Help!”

  No answer.

  A sting on her elbow.

  “Ow! Ward—”

  “Well done, Leona!” her brother called, his voice faint. “Keep screaming.”

  “Help meee!” Oh, God. Bees in her hair. Scrambling. Burrowing. Their angry drone sounded louder than her own words. “I am not pretending. Help. Help!”

  She yanked the ropes back and forth against the tree trunk, scraping her wrists. Again. Again. Her bonds didn’t yield. Thrashing her head from side to side, she dragged in frantic breaths. “Ward!”

  Try to stay calm. Ward will be here any moment.

  Tears burned her eyes. Stinging heat seared her arms and legs. A bee stung below her right ear; pain shot down the side of her neck. More bees—a moving cloud of black dots—hovered before her face. They looked like spots of ink spattered on the blazing glow of sunshine.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned.

  Over the bees’ furious bzzz, a humming noise rang in her ears. She blinked, trying to focus. The dots swirled. More stings on her legs. Her knees. Her upper arms. Soon, her whole body would be covered with stings.

  “Ward!” She tried to twist her hands, but her arms were unbearably heavy. So were her eyelids. Impossible to keep open.

  Another moan broke past her lips. What would her father say when he found her? He didn’t know she’d slipped out with the boys. He expected her to be inside, with the other young ladies, entertaining themselves with a quiet game or embroidery.

  A sickly heat began to spread through her body, and then numbness. Her whole body felt sluggish, as though she’d fallen into a vat of soft butter and was slowly submerging.

  Blackness crept into her mind, smothering her consciousness. The bees sounded distant now, barely audible above the shrill humming. Mayhap they’d flown away.

  Nay, Leona. You are fainting. Stay awake! Call for help. Now!

  “Leona!”

  Her brother’s voice. It cut into the darkness. Pulled her back toward the insistent hum. And the light.

  Ward sounded far away. Was he speaking to her from down by the trees? She must call to him. Tell him . . . about . . . bees.

  By sheer force of will, she coaxed her chin up. Her groggy head swayed, as weighty as a boulder upon her shoulders. She tried to force her eyes open. Her lids were . . . too leaden.

  Why was her mind spinning, around . . . around . . . ? Must not . . . slide back . . . toward darkness.

  A thudding noise.

  Stones falling? Ripples of thunder?

  So easy . . . to give in
to . . . soothing darkness . . . To the place . . . of no pain.

  Do not faint! Fight, Leona!

  She struggled to drag her consciousness back. Difficult . . .

  The thudding grew louder. Not stones. Not . . . thunder.

  Someone . . . running.

  “Sis!”

  “Ward,” she croaked. Relief burgeoned inside her. “H-help me.”

  Something batted against her bodice. Hands, she realized dully, swatting at her gown. Slapping at her arms.

  “There are bees all over her!” Aldwin’s voice. “She stirred up a nest.”

  “God’s bones!” Ward. “The welts on her arms.”

  Help me.

  “Aldwin”—Ward sounded scared—“’tis all our fault.”

  “W-we must get help.”

  “Oh, Leona.” Her brother made a sound like a sob.

  She tried to move her lips, to show him she’d heard . . . Impossible.

  The darkness . . . was growing thicker. Like a blanket wrapping itself around her. Trying to . . . suffocate her.

  Help . . . me.

  Hands brushed against her wrists.

  Stay . . . alert. Fight.

  A tug. The ropes fell away.

  Free, at last. Stand . . . Show Aldwin—

  Her body sagged. Her mind whirled, before she felt her shoulders connect with another body. Ward. He’d caught her.

  Nay. Scent . . . not Ward’s.

  “—too many bees,” her brother was saying.

  “The river.” Aldwin’s voice resonated very near. “We must drown the bees.”

  “But—”

  “’Tis the only way. Hurry!”

  Hands jostled her. Pain! A cry ripped from deep inside her.

  “I am sorry.” Her brother sounded as though he was weeping. “Leona, I am sorry . . .”

  The shrill humming filled her ears again. Ward’s voice . . . distorted . . . His words were sucked away into the darkness . . .

  What seemed only moments later, through the fog cloaking her mind, she became aware of icy coolness. A splashing sound. A hollow sloshing.

  “’Twill be all right,” a young male voice murmured. His words were reassuring, but he sounded terrified. Must be Ward. His voice sounded different because he was worried.