LADY UNDAUNTED: A Medieval Romance Read Free

lived life with God on his lips, warring on his mind, and greed in his heart—of the Church in name only.
    “Have you not someone to bury?” Liam asked.
    Ivo guided his destrier to the end of the drawbridge. The whites of his eyes and tip of his nose red with weeping, he said, “I do, but as your journey will not wait, neither will mine.”
    “Go, then.”
    Ivo’s smile was a twisted thing. “Ah, but I go with you.”
    Then he would not first seek the coins Maynard had hidden? Since it was a considerable sum, it could only mean it was hidden well enough it could wait. “I do not require your priest’s services.”
    The jewels of his crucifix catching light, Ivo said, “I do not offer them.”
    Almighty, Liam silently beseeched, I am near to letting flood all I hold inside. Pray, calm this storm.
    However, it was as much the unease of his men, who feared the letting of holy blood, that pulled him back. Reminding himself he was still lord to these men, even if only because of their loyalty to him, Liam said, “You are not needed.”
    “’Tis to Rosemoor you go?”
    “It is.”
    “Then I shall ensure Maynard’s heir reaches Ashlingford alive.”
    As if Liam would resort to murder! “You think he will not?” he growled.
    “Many are the unfortunate accidents that befall children during travel.” Ivo lifted his palms heavenward. “I would but ensure none befall Oliver.”
    “As I will not be traveling with him, your worries are unfounded. I go to Rosemoor to verify the child’s existence and the validity of Maynard’s marriage.”
    “And then?”
    “You are too learned to ask such a question, Uncle.”
    “You will go to London to petition the king for the barony?”
    Leaving Ivo’s question unanswered, Liam said, “Stay and bury your beloved nephew. No harm will come to the child.”
    “Let us be certain, hmm?” Ivo urged his horse off the drawbridge.
    Though tempted to overpower him and lock him in one of the gatehouse cells, Liam knew he would have to answer to the Church. Thus, the devil would join them.
    “We ride!” Liam shouted and spurred his destrier ahead of the others.

CHAPTER TWO

    “Do not touch.”
    “Why?”
    “It has thorns.” She fingered the base of the spine. “See?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “If you catch your finger on it, ’twill hurt.”
    “Why?”
    “Because…” Joslyn sighed. “Ah, Oliver, I have told you before.”
    “Tell me ’gain.”
    She tapped his dirt-smudged nose with a gloved finger. “I will not, little man. Now along with you.”
    He groaned and headed back across the garden.
    “Take your bucket!”
    He scooped it up and toted it back to the corner of the walled garden he had earlier abandoned, a patch of earth ravaged by numerous holes and heaps of dirt. Heaving a sigh clearly intended for his mother’s ears, he plopped down and set about dirtying those rare, clean inches of himself.
    Joslyn smiled. From the top of his golden head to the small toes he curled into the soil, he was hers, every dear and dirty bit of him.
    She turned back to the rosebush she had been transplanting when he had come to her with his endless questions. As she began to pack the roots, she became aware of something whose sound not only traveled on the air but was felt through the earth beneath her knees.
    Horses. But why at such speed when it was not permitted within the village walls? Though none would speak against their lord making such a ride, never had her father done so—even when he was full up in his cups. Had something happened to warrant the urgency, something that returned him from London though he was not expected home until the morrow?
    Joslyn pushed to her feet.
    “Mama?” Oliver had also risen.
    “’Tis naught. Remain here.”
    “I come, too.”
    “Nay, I will return in a moment.”
    “But I want—”
    “Stay, Oliver.”
    His lower lip jutted, but he remained alongside his bucket.
    Hoping he would not disobey, which he did fairly often since he had turned