One Knight Enchanted: A Medieval Romance (Rogues & Angels Book 1) Read online

  The nuns would have been proud of her, she thought, and jabbed the needle into the linen.

  “The timing is most opportune, Yves, and the family is a good one. Their holdings are prosperous, and your sister would have a most satisfactory life.”

  Annelise could keep silent no longer. “Satisfactory by whose standards?”

  Bertrand visibly gritted his teeth. “It is a curse,” he muttered, and Yves’ lips tightened.

  “It is not a curse to know one’s own mind,” Annelise argued, ensuring her tone was polite. “I fail to see how my opinion could not be relevant. You are discussing my future and marriage to a man with whom I would be destined to spend the rest of my life.”

  “Annelise, can you be silent for once?” Yves said impatiently. “You know that this decision is not yours to make.”

  “I do not like it.”

  “It does not matter what you like,” Yves retorted in a sharp tone he had never used with her before. “A sensible choice must be made and I will make it.”

  “You might ask me...”

  “I know what you will say. You are not in love with any man, so far as I know, so you would remain unwed,” Yves replied. He flung out a hand. “Where will you go, a maiden with no dowry?”

  “I thought I would stay with you.”

  “You were wrong.”

  Annelise’s conviction that Yves would do his best for her faltered.

  Yves paced across the wooden floor in the shadows beyond Bertrand, his hands clasped behind his back, his bright blond hair catching the light. His expressive amber eyes, so like her own, were hidden from view, and Annelise felt that her brother had become a stranger.

  He straightened, and before the words even fell from his mouth, Annelise saw that Yves meant to agree with Bertrand. She tossed the needlework aside, hating Yves for betraying her treasured hopes.

  How dare he cast her desire aside for his own convenience?

  Before she could utter a word, though, there was a knock on the door.

  “Lord Enguerrand de Roussineau to see his lordship,” Bertrand’s manservant announced.

  Bertrand winced, then composed his expression and beckoned with one stately finger. His wife set aside her embroidery and scurried to call for refreshment. Annelise watched as a young man of whom she had heard much—and little of it complimentary—swept into Bertrand’s chamber.

  Enguerrand was dark-haired, and more lavishly dressed than Annelise would have expected he could afford. There was a dusting of snow across the heavy green cloak tossed over his shoulders, and more snow on his boots. He brought a whiff of the night into the chamber and she guessed that he had just arrived. His gaze flitted over the room and she knew she did not imagine that his eyes gleamed when he spotted her.

  That made her dread his mission.

  Enguerrand smiled then, bowing low to Bertrand, as if Annelise was not there. The older man tolerated the gesture, although he arched a brow at Yves over the new arrival’s head as though he, too, wondered at Enguerrand’s purpose. Enguerrand accepted the welcome cup offered by Bertrand’s wife, although he took no notice of the woman herself.

  He did not even show the courtesy to thank her.

  Annelise was glad to bend over her needlework rather than to speak with this man.

  “It is long since we have had the honor of your company,” Bertrand said with a coldness that could not be missed.

  Enguerrand spoke warmly, in contrast. “Bertrand, neighbor of mine, I come for tidings. Do you know the whereabouts of Annelise de Sayerne? I have just found Sayerne deserted and Tulley is away at battle.”

  “Why do you seek my sister?” Yves demanded.

  Enguerrand jumped as though he had not seen the younger man, that ruse making Annelise distrust him even more. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed Yves. “Sister?” he asked. “I had thought Jerome de Sayerne had only two children.”

  “Two legitimate children,” Yves confirmed, his stance proud. “I am his bastard, although my father spoke of giving me legal status as his son.”

  “But he did not?”

  “No.”

  “Ah!” There was no mistaking the relief that swept over Enguerrand’s features. His gaze slid to Annelise once more. “Might this be the fair Annelise herself?”

  Annelise rose to her feet and set her handwork aside. “I am Annelise de Sayerne,” she admitted. “Why do you seek me?”

  Enguerrand sank to his knee before Annelise and lifted her hand to his lips. “Fairest Annelise,” he murmured against her fingers. “I am most charmed to make your acquaintance.”

  “Indeed?” Annelise should have returned the compliment and she knew it.

  “Indeed,” Enguerrand confirmed, undeterred. “Your beauty is more than I might have hoped for when I set out to seek your hand in marriage.”

  “Marriage?”

  That the subject should come up twice in such short order was beyond belief. Annelise had always been told how unsuitable she was for marriage, both by her father and by the nuns. Too outspoken, too poorly skilled in household tasks, too tall. Her auburn hair was a liability—it had to mark a fearsome temper and, worst of all, she was without a dowry.

  Yet two offers for her hand were to be heard on the same day, within moments of each other.

  Why would this man seek her out? Annelise wondered whether Enguerrand believed that Quinn would not return home. Perhaps he desired Sayerne for himself.

  Was that also Lady Hildegarde’s motivation? Did she seek a holding for her younger son outside her elder son’s legacy of Viandin?

  Would either of them be pleased with the reality of Sayerne’s impoverished state, even if Annelise did inherit it? This knight did not look like one inclined to work hard to gain his desires.

  And what if Quinn did come home as Tulley insisted he would? Annelise would bring nothing to any match, then, and might find herself in a similar position as her mother.

  The prospect made her heart chill.

  “Yes, my lady,” Enguerrand continued with confidence in her acceptance. “You will be fairer than fair as my bride.”

  “I thank you for the proposal, but I will not be your bride.”

  “Of course, you will,” Enguerrand insisted.

  “Of course, I will not!” Annelise tugged her hand out of Enguerrand’s grip and backed away.

  “Annelise!” Yves chided.

  Bertrand’s wife gasped, and Bertrand fired a reproving glance Annelise’s way.

  Enguerrand straightened and brushed off his cloak as if unconcerned. Annelise was not fooled. She could fairly smell the anger in him and it terrified her.

  “Do not concern yourselves,” he said in a low voice, his gaze rising to fix on Annelise. “I have always enjoyed women of spirit. I am certain the lady can be convinced of my...ardor.”

  Annelise swallowed but did not flinch.

  “Perhaps you will have no such opportunity,” Bertrand said.

  Enguerrand tossed the weight of his cloak over his shoulder as he turned to Bertrand. “What do you mean?”

  “Hildegarde de Viandin seeks a wife for her son. Yves and I were discussing the terms of our agreement that Annelise should be that bride.”

  Already he spoke of it as an agreement! Annelise kept silent, though, wondering if it would be better to wed a stranger than Enguerrand.

  “Who is this son?” Enguerrand asked, his manner haughty.

  Bertrand consulted the missive, though surely he knew the answer. “A knight who has taken up the cross—the younger son, name of Rolfe.”

  “So, he is in Outremer?” Enguerrand scoffed. “This lady has no need of a spouse far away in the Holy Land.”

  Annelise arched a brow that this knight was so convinced of her needs, without knowing any detail of her beyond her name and origin.

  “He is expected home soon,” Bertrand said. “He sent word to his mother from Outremer that he rode for home.”

  Enguerrand threw out his hands. “But if this Rolfe
never returns, then where would our fair Annelise be? Do you imagine Hildegarde would show compassion for a mere fiancé? Their match would not even be consummated!”

  Bertrand bristled. “How dare you imply that Rolfe will not arrive home?” he demanded. “How dare you imply that Hildegarde’s intent is less than honorable?”

  “Admit the truth, Bertrand,” Enguerrand replied. “You do not even know whether this knight still draws breath. There have been many casualties in the East, and this man might well have been among them.”

  “Rolfe is bold in battle!” Bertrand insisted. “He is the son of a noble and esteemed family who will treat his intended bride well. He is on the route for home!”

  But he would marry the bride his mother had chosen for him, without a word of protest. Annelise did not make the protest. She realized that she wanted to wed for love and to wed a man who could make a decision for himself.

  She would have a husband who believed in the merit of love.

  Her father might have told her that she wished for too much and she guessed that Bertrand would agree.

  “Enguerrand’s concern is not unfounded,” Yves said to Bertrand. Enguerrand smiled. “My only goal is to see Annelise safe in my absence. Perhaps it would be best to await this Rolfe’s return before committing to the match. She could remain here, at Beauvoir, under your protection.”

  Bertrand shook his head. “What if your brother Quinn returns home first? We have all heard the horrible tales of his cruelty. Surely you cannot imagine that he will have any concern for your welfare or that of your sister? She would be a pawn to him and no one would be able to protest his legal right to do with her as he chose.” Annelise locked her hands together, thinking of this prospect. Bertrand was firm. “The lady’s future must be assured immediately.”

  “In contrast to this possibly deceased man,” Enguerrand said, “I am here this very day, bearing gifts for the delightful Annelise. Surely, Yves, my offer bodes better for the future of your lovely sister.”

  “We all know the handicap of Roussineau,” Bertrand noted. “Even the second son of Viandin would be better situated than the heir of Roussineau.”

  Enguerrand flushed, which told Annelise that Bertrand was too close to the truth for comfort.

  “Roussineau is a holding of much potential,” Enguerrand argued.

  Particularly, Annelise concluded, if he could marry into a larger and better-situated holding. Sayerne had been badly abused in the last years of her father’s life, and certainly had been poorly managed, but at least the fields were fertile.

  Unlike Roussineau. Annelise had heard about its setting in the foothills, rife with boulders and stones. There was precious little soil between the rocks, and even less sun, with mountains surrounding Roussineau to the west and south. She knew that the vein of silver mined there in the past had been depleted.

  “Have the tithes improved at Roussineau of late, Enguerrand?” Yves asked.

  Annelise cast a glance across the hall that her brother chose to ignore.

  Enguerrand smiled. “Roussineau may be a small holding, but it is adequate to see to your sister’s needs and safety. I am not without ambition, though, and imagine that your charming sister will be more finely housed within short order.”

  “Housed like some steed acquired at the market,” Annelise muttered. Bertrand’s wife was the only one who heard, evidently, and her lips thinned.

  “Adequate?” Bertrand retorted. “Roussineau is hardly adequate for any manner of lady. Yves, do not be a fool! Accept Hildegarde’s offer and see Annelise’s future assured.”

  Yves’ manner was thoughtful, and he flicked considering glances at the two older men as he paced. He did not, Annelise noted with rising anger, even so much as acknowledge that she was in the room.

  “Yves!” Enguerrand appealed. “See Annelise wedded now, to me, and know the matter is resolved. We can exchange our vows this very night and ride to Roussineau in the morning, man and wife.”

  “I say she should wed Hildegarde’s son!” Bertrand declared. He pounded on the arm of his chair, clearly not accustomed to being challenged in his own home. “There can be no other sensible choice.”

  “And I say she should wed me!” Enguerrand replied, taking a step forward.

  “Perhaps we could leave the matter for a few days,” Yves suggested.

  “No, Yves, there is no need to wait so long,” Annelise said firmly. All three men glanced her way then, their expressions surprised. “There is nothing to decide,” she declared. “I shall wed neither of these men and that is final.”

  “Annelise!” Enguerrand whispered as if she had wounded him. Bertrand’s face set in anger, and Yves watched her with open curiosity.

  At the very least, Annelise had their attention.

  “What manner of young woman would show such audacity to her seniors?” Bertrand demanded. “No wonder your father saw you cloistered for most of your years. It is your place to be silent, woman!”

  “As Hildegarde’s son’s place is beneath her thumb?” Annelise retorted. “I cannot imagine what I should want of a man wrought of such mettle.”

  “And I cannot imagine how a woman of such sweet countenance could be cursed with a viper’s tongue,” Bertrand retorted.

  “Then we are agreed that the match would not be a wholesome one,” Annelise concluded sweetly, then gestured to Enguerrand. “What do you know of this man, Yves?” She already knew the answer, but she wanted her brother to say the words.

  “Only what he says and the rumor I have heard,” he admitted.

  “Consider, then, that you would grant my hand to a stranger whose repute is less than ideal.” Annelise forced herself to continue in an even tone. “I would not slight another guest of our host, but it could well be that this gentleman’s sights are set upon Sayerne itself.”

  Enguerrand’s lips set in a thin line, but Annelise ignored him.

  “And of this younger son of Viandin, you know nothing at all. Am I right?”

  Yves agreed with reluctance.

  “He is another stranger.”

  “I know his family,” Bertrand began.

  “I will have neither of them,” Annelise said, then met Yves’ gaze. “You know that I am determined to wed for love alone.”

  “Love needs only time to grow,” Enguerrand murmured.

  “Love?” Bertrand protested. “Trust a woman to be guided by such whimsy.”

  “It is not whimsy,” Annelise replied, knowing the truth from her own experience. “It is a guarantee for a woman’s future, and I will not exchange marital vows without it.”

  “You will die a maiden then,” Bertrand replied, his tone practical. He turned to Yves again. “If a valiant knight like Hildegarde’s son does not meet with her favor, then none will satisfy. You must choose for her, Yves.”

  “She will undoubtedly find marriage has much to commend it, once she has a babe or two.” Enguerrand lent his voice to persuade Yves.

  Annelise bristled and did not take her seat again.

  “You cannot take Annelise with you while you seek your fortune, Yves, and I will not have her remain here unwed,” Bertrand stated flatly. “This keep is too full of warriors and it would be unfitting for me to accept responsibility for a maiden. Annelise cannot return to Sayerne, so she must go somewhere, under some man’s defense.”

  “Surely you do not desire to see sweet Annelise left alone, without husband, hearth, and protection?” At Enguerrand’s question, Yves’ shoulders sagged.

  “Annelise,” he appealed. “You must make a choice and make it this night.”

  Her heart softened a bit that he finally appealed to her. “You could take me with you.”

  Yves shook his head. “No. I must see you safe before I depart to seek my own fortune.” He held her gaze resolutely. “I must insist that you choose one suitor or the other. I bid you decide immediately, before Quinn returns.”

  “Choose from these two men, Annelise, if you insist upon making
your own choice, but do it now and see the matter resolved,” Bertrand added. “You do not grow any younger and soon your appeal will diminish even more.”

  Annelise lifted her chin, knowing that there was only one way to compel Yves to understand how serious she was. “If I must choose a spouse this very night, then I choose to return to the convent. I will become a bride of Christ.” She held Yves’ gaze, knowing that resolve shone in her own.

  Yves knew how much she had loathed the convent. Surely, once he saw that she would rather return there than marry, he would abandon the argument?

  Her threat hung in the air. The fire crackled, and all eyes were fixed upon her.

  To her astonishment, Yves nodded calmly in agreement.

  “So be it,” he said. “We ride for the convent of Ste. Radegund at first light.”

  Annelise’s lips parted in shock.

  Yves arched a fair brow. “It was you who named the price, Annelise,” he reminded her softly. “I must have you safe before Quinn comes home, and you have made your choice.”

  Then he turned away, accepting Bertrand’s invitation of a cup of wine. Enguerrand stared at her, but Annelise did not acknowledge him.

  She had thought she could trust Yves.

  But she knew her own desire and it was not folly. Should the convent be the price she was condemned to pay for her convictions, then pay she would.

  The sky was pearly when Annelise descended to the bailey just before dawn the next morning. The snow was already falling thick and fast. The wind was cold enough to chill right to the bone, and she shivered as she mounted her palfrey.

  She had hoped that Yves would change his thinking. She had expected him to meet her this morning, or halt her on her way to her palfrey to declare that he had relented. Yves knew how she had hated her years in the cloister. He knew that life would never suit her. He had to realize she had made the claim to show him her determination to avoid these matches.

  But he had not come to her.

  Annelise’s gaze flew to him as he stepped out of the hall, apparently preoccupied with donning his gloves. Was this the moment of his capitulation?