Return to Honor (Knights of Honor Book 10) Read online

  Return to Honor

  Knights Of Honor

  Book Ten

  Alexa Aston

  Copyright © 2018 by Alexa Aston

  Kindle Edition

  Published by Dragonblade Publishing, an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Books from Dragonblade Publishing

  Dangerous Lords Series by Maggi Andersen

  The Baron’s Betrothal

  Seducing the Earl

  The Viscount’s Widowed Lady

  Also from Maggi Andersen

  The Marquess Meets His Match

  Knights of Honor Series by Alexa Aston

  Word of Honor

  Marked by Honor

  Code of Honor

  Journey to Honor

  Heart of Honor

  Bold in Honor

  Love and Honor

  Gift of Honor

  Path to Honor

  Return to Honor

  Legends of Love Series by Avril Borthiry

  The Wishing Well

  Isolated Hearts

  Sentinel

  The Lost Lords Series by Chasity Bowlin

  The Lost Lord of Castle Black

  The Vanishing of Lord Vale

  The Missing Marquess of Althorn

  The Resurrection of Lady Ramsleigh

  The Mystery of Miss Mason

  By Elizabeth Ellen Carter

  Captive of the Corsairs, Heart of the Corsairs Series

  Revenge of the Corsairs, Heart of the Corsairs Series

  Shadow of the Corsairs, Heart of the Corsairs Series

  Dark Heart

  Knight Everlasting Series by Cassidy Cayman

  Endearing

  Enchanted

  Evermore

  Midnight Meetings Series by Gina Conkle

  Meet a Rogue at Midnight, book 4

  Second Chance Series by Jessica Jefferson

  Second Chance Marquess

  Imperial Season Series by Mary Lancaster

  Vienna Waltz

  Vienna Woods

  Vienna Dawn

  Blackhaven Brides Series by Mary Lancaster

  The Wicked Baron

  The Wicked Lady

  The Wicked Rebel

  The Wicked Husband

  The Wicked Marquis

  The Wicked Governess

  The Wicked Spy

  The Wicked Gypsy

  The Wicked Wife

  Highland Loves Series by Melissa Limoges

  My Reckless Love

  My Steadfast Love

  My Passionate Love

  Clash of the Tartans Series by Anna Markland

  Kilty Secrets

  Kilted at the Altar

  Kilty Pleasures

  Queen of Thieves Series by Andy Peloquin

  Child of the Night Guild

  Thief of the Night Guild

  Queen of the Night Guild

  Dark Gardens Series by Meara Platt

  Garden of Shadows

  Garden of Light

  Garden of Dragons

  Garden of Destiny

  Rulers of the Sky Series by Paula Quinn

  Scorched

  Ember

  White Hot

  Highlands Forever Series by Violetta Rand

  Unbreakable

  Undeniable

  Viking’s Fury Series by Violetta Rand

  Love’s Fury

  Desire’s Fury

  Passion’s Fury

  Also from Violetta Rand

  Viking Hearts

  The Sons of Scotland Series by Victoria Vane

  Virtue

  Valor

  Dry Bayou Brides Series by Lynn Winchester

  The Shepherd’s Daughter

  The Seamstress

  The Widow

  Men of Blood Series by Rosamund Winchester

  The Blood & The Bloom

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Books from Dragonblade Publishing

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  My Knights of Honor series would never have been possible without the encouragement and support of Kathryn Le Veque, the Queen of All Things Medieval and a superb mentor. Kathryn believed in me and gave this series a place at Dragonblade Publishing. I’m so happy to be part of the Dragonblade family.

  My editor, Scott Moreland, has left his mark on every page of this series, for which I am grateful. His guiding hand has challenged me to become a better writer and his eye for details is second to none. I wouldn’t want to be on this journey without him.

  Kris Newberger’s organizational skills and friendship smoothed the way to publication every single time. She’s a lady who knows how to get things done efficiently and quickly.

  Aven Ellis provided invaluable feedback and suggestions and came to love all of my knights and their ladies as much as I did. She always has my back.

  Last of all, to my husband—you are the hero of our love story. May it go on for many years to come.

  Prologue

  London—July, 1376

  Gregory de Challon felt the waves of disapproval coming off Sir Rodric Shelley as the two men traipsed silently through the empty streets of London. Today had proven hot and the heat seemed to linger into the night as the midnight hour approached. The streets stunk of waste that had been dumped from windows, reminding Gregory why so many of the nobility left London during the summer months. At least it wouldn’t take long to reach the cottage he’d leased for Celia since the teeming crowds were now tucked into their beds for the night. He needed it that way because he didn’t want to be seen visiting the girl, heavy with child.

  His child.

  It was her fault for being so damned beautiful. Gregory had been tempted beyond measure when he first spied Celia Achard at court. Only ten and six, she was small in height when compared to most women, but her full breasts and tiny waist had caught his attention, as did her glorious mane of golden hair. But it was her eye color that truly whetted his appetite. The sprite’s eyes were amethyst in color, like two jewels set in a perfect face.

  He’d had his share of women—and then some. Growing up, he’d bedded anyone in a skirt, be it a servant or local village wench. When his father brought him to the royal court in London, Gregory had plowed through a bevy of pretty widows before working his way through a dozen or more married lovers, both at court and in the city of London.

  That was before Celia arrived. Why a naïve virgin had turned his very experienced head was something Gregory didn’t understand, only that she made his blood sing. He had thought to steal only a kiss from her in a dar
kened alcove. Mayhap two. Then kisses had turned to touch and touch crashed out of control until she found herself with child. She hid it for as long as she could and then told her father she’d been asked to visit a friend at her family’s country estate. Lord Americ Achard rarely saw his daughter and had only given her a cursory glance when she told him of her travel plans for the summer. Celia said her father seemed relieved that she had somewhere to go so that he wouldn’t be responsible for her.

  That had allowed Gregory to rent the tiny cottage in the heart of London while Celia’s time to deliver drew near. He’d stolen away from the palace to visit her a few times, not nearly as much as either of them would have liked, but that had to end. Today.

  When he broke her heart.

  Oh, she wouldn’t know right away. He would make gallant promises tonight and cover her in sweet kisses. She would deliver the child and Sir Rodric would take her back to Nesterfield. She had no mother and her two younger brothers had come to court for their summer break to spend time with their father, a man heavily involved in court politics and the royal treasury. Once he’d taken a few days to show his sons London, Americ and the boys left to join the court’s summer progress. Because of that, Celia could recover from childbirth alone at home, with no one the wiser.

  Except for the babe.

  As they drew near their destination, Gregory paused. His companion halted and looked at him with wary eyes.

  “Today is the last day I will see her,” he promised the knight, who’d gotten Gregory out of more scrapes that anyone could imagine.

  “And I’m to take her to Nesterfield after she gives birth. To your babe,” Sir Rodric said, his tone even but accusing Gregory all the same.

  “Aye. Offer to pay the midwife to take the child away.”

  “If she refuses?” the knight asked boldly.

  Gregory swallowed. “Then get rid of it on the way.”

  Sir Rodric’s brows rose. “You want me to kill it. A babe. Your babe.”

  He steeled himself. “Do whatever you have to do, Rodric. But Celia is not to arrive home with a child in her arms.”

  “What should I tell the lady happened to her babe?”

  “Whatever you wish.”

  Gregory turned away and strode off, knowing the loyal knight would follow. He’d been in service to the de Challons his entire life and would do his duty, no matter how much he despised the outcome.

  They reached the cottage and Gregory opened the door, leaving his soldier outside to make sure no one else entered behind him. A single candle glowed in the one room. Celia lay atop a pallet on the floor, fast asleep. He went and knelt beside her.

  In sleep, she looked even younger but she still resembled an earthly angel. Her face had grown slightly fuller. He placed a palm against her rounded belly. A moment later, he felt a strong kick against it. He jerked his hand away, not wanting to think about the child they’d made together. Lowering his mouth to hers, he pressed a kiss against her soft lips.

  She awakened and opened her mouth to him. He accepted the invitation, kissing her deeply, knowing it would be the last time their lips met. Breaking the kiss, he helped her sit up, her back supported against the wall behind her. Gregory pulled a small, velvet pouch from his pocket and handed it to her.

  “A gift?” Celia’s face lit up.

  “A little something to remember me by,” he said lightly.

  She loosened the strings and reached inside, withdrawing an amethyst brooch. It had taken going to three jewelers until he found what he wanted but the smile that lit her face made his troubles worthwhile.

  “’Tis the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” she swore.

  “I thought the gems matched the color of your eyes. Here, let me pin it on you.”

  Gregory opened the clasp and slid the pin through the material of her nightdress. Celia fingered the brooch lovingly.

  Cupping her face, he said, “I have to go away for a little while, love.”

  “To Egelina?” she asked, her mouth turning down.

  “Aye. She is my betrothed and we are to wed in three days’ time.”

  “But you will stop it, won’t you, Gregory?” Her large eyes pleaded with him.

  “I will do what I can, Celia,” he said, knowing he would never dream of halting the marriage between him and the homely cow whose bridal price was large enough to ensure she would be taken off her parents’ hands for good. “To do so, I must convince both her and her parents—as well as my father—that we should not marry.”

  “But you are so good with words, Gregory. You are intelligent. You will be able to reason with them. Make them see why you cannot marry Egelina.” Her mouth set in determination.

  He shrugged. “I cannot predict what will happen, love. A betrothal is as good as being wed. Persuading all parties involved will be difficult.”

  “But not impossible.” She gave him a tender smile. “I believe you can do anything, Gregory. Even guarantee that we will always be together.”

  “Not for a while,” he reminded her. “If they knew of you and the babe, that would not be reason enough to break our arrangement. I must find a way that appeals to all sides. Try not to worry. You and the child will be safe at Sturnwick. Your father and brothers will be gone for a few months and then most likely, Lord Achard will return them to where they foster before he arrives back at court. By then, I hope I will have worked out a solution to our problem.”

  Celia’s eyes misted with tears. “You think of me—and the babe—as a problem?” Her lips trembled and he knew she was on the verge of breaking down.

  “Nay, love. You misconstrued my meaning.”

  Tears leaked from her eyes. “I’m sorry. ’Tis being with child. I find myself so emotional.” She paused. “I think my time draws near.”

  “Rodric has been tasked to take care of everything. He will bring a midwife for the delivery. Then he will wait a few days until you are strong enough to travel before he escorts you home.”

  “I wish I could go to your home. Our home,” she said stubbornly.

  Gregory knew he needed to leave before her demands became unreasonable. Brushing his lips against hers a last time, he then said, “I must go. Take care.”

  Celia threw her arms about his neck. “I love you, Gregory.”

  He felt the hot tears against his skin. Wrapping his arms around her, he inhaled one final time the sweet scent of her innocence. An innocence he’d ruined. Guilt flushed through him, knowing he would marry his betrothed and live a hundred leagues away from a woman who just might have captured his hard heart. Gregory told himself it was all for the best. There would be no child. Hopefully, it wouldn’t live but if it did, Rodric would see that Celia Achard arrived home with only herself. Her body would heal. Eventually, her heart would, too.

  Or so he told himself.

  “Let me help you.”

  Gregory eased her back onto the pallet. On her back, her belly rose like a majestic mountain. A belly filled with his child. He shrugged off the thought and brushed back a lock of hair from her face.

  “Go to sleep, Celia.”

  “I hope my dreams are of you,” she said. Her eyes closed and within seconds, she appeared asleep.

  Rising, he drank in one long, last look and left the cottage. Nodding at Rodric, who would remain behind, Gregory slipped back through the quiet, dark streets, regret rending his heart in two.

  *

  Rodric’s anger at his liege lord’s oldest son rippled through him. The boy had played with fire his entire life, never being burned, thanks to always having someone to clean up his messes after him. Rodric could understand a boy seeking adventure but Gregory de Challon’s attraction to danger would cost him dearly someday. The boy had become a man who knew no boundaries. He’d dallied with every eligible woman at the royal court without consequence and now he had walked away from any sense of duty to Lady Celia Achard. By now, the fool was wed to that ugly Egelina and either counting the money she’d brought or seduc
ing some serving wench in the nearby village. Rodric knew Sir Gregory would never look back at the trouble he’d caused.

  Fortunately, Lady Celia had lived through the delivery, though he thought her blood loss great. Rodric had worried at her small size, as had the midwife, but the young noblewoman had managed to give birth to a healthy girl after a day and half in agonizing labor. The child thrived—but her mother grew weaker by the minute. He wasn’t certain the lady would live through the journey to her home. He’d bought a cart and had thought she would ride next to him in it on the way to Sturnwick but now determined she would need to lie in the back with the babe and conserve what little strength she had left.

  The midwife refused to entertain the idea of accepting the child after its birth. The woman told Rodric no one wanted a newborn, least of all a nobleman’s cast-off, and she’d be hard put to find the girl a home in London. Though no names had ever been exchanged, he knew there’d been no way to hide the fact that Lady Celia was nobility. Her speech, her dress, her very manner gave that way.

  Now, Rodric was to take his two charges out of the city. The rent on the cottage had run out, so they would be leaving for Sturnwick in minutes. He’d already put a small trunk of Lady Celia’s in the wagon bed and laid blankets out for her to rest upon. The midwife had left a basket behind for the child to sleep in. He’d bought a small blanket at a vendor’s stall and placed the brown wool inside the basket for the child to sleep upon.

  Returning inside, he saw a pale Lady Celia standing, wobbly on her feet.

  “Come, my lady. Let me help you to the cart.”

  “But the—”

  “I’ll return for the babe. She’s fast asleep in her basket. You needn’t worry about her.”

  He led her to the wagon and gingerly lifted her into it.

  “Lie down and settle yourself. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  Rodric returned and glanced around the cottage one last time, making sure they left nothing behind, especially anything that might give a clue as to who had stayed here and what had occurred. He’d already paid the midwife enough to keep her lips from flapping. Turning to the basket, he lifted it by its handle, the sleeping child not stirring at the subtle movement.

  Gazing down, he couldn’t see anything of Sir Gregory in the babe. She had blond fuzz atop her head, which would grow out one day to be the same shade as her mother’s. She also possessed the delicate nose and mouth of Lady Celia. He fought the bile rising in him.