To The Lady Born

Book 1: Lords of de Royans

by Kathryn Le Veque

Genres: Historical Fiction; Medieval Romance

Synopsis

1388 A.D. - The Lady Amalie de Vere is the sister to the Robert De Vere, Duke of Ireland, Earl of Oxford, and personal confident and lover to Richard II. When trouble arises between the king and Henry of Bolingbroke, the Duke of Ireland flees for his life, leaving his sister behind and at the mercy of his enemies. Bolingbroke confiscates Hedingham Castle, the duke's seat, and Lady Amalie along with it.

Enter Sir Weston de Royans. A powerful, pious knight from a good Yorkshire family, his first introduction to Lady Amalie is a shocking one. But he eventually comes to know a beautiful, intelligent and humorous young woman who is in great torment and harbors a terrible secret. However, Weston harbors secrets of his own, deep family secrets that he has tried to run from for all of these years.

As Weston and Amalie fall deeply in love, the two of them must reconcile themselves to these secrets and find understanding and forgiveness. For four years, they live happily and peacefully. Then, the situation changes and Weston’s demons resurface again when his grandfather dies and Weston inherits a baronetcy. Weston and Amalie find a new life with Weston’s new title that leads them into danger, vengeance, murder, and a brutal showdown on the tournament fields of Yorkshire where Weston risks his life seeking justice for his beloved Amalie.

Release date: December 15, 2013

Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.

Print pages: 315

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

Hedingham Castle

January, Year of Our Lord 1388

He was coming.

She knew he was approaching and she knew why. Dear God, she knew and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

He’d been watching her for weeks with a lascivious look to his eye and at sup tonight, he couldn’t take his eyes from her. His gaze had made her skin crawl, the dirty fingers of his mind reaching out to touch her. After the meal, he had ordered her to her room under guard and there was no way she could escape. He had her trapped. Heart pounding, tears threatening, it was a struggle not to panic. She knew he was coming for her.

God help me, she thought.

The halls of Hedingham Castle were sturdy and big, the corridors thick and smoky with the haze of greasy torches. The keep of the mighty de Vere family reflected the power of the family and the prominence. But tonight, it reflected the instability of the de Vere future. Troops from Bolingbroke filled the halls and grounds since Robert de Vere’s flight to Ireland and to safety to avoid the barons closing in on him. But he left behind his sister, vulnerable to the enemy troops that now manned the battlements. Her punishment was now approaching.

The walls were so thick that she couldn’t hear the voices of the guards in the hall. She couldn’t hear when he approached, the garrison commander, her jailor, a man as vile as Lucifer and twice as ugly. As she sat huddled on a chair near the fire, fear eating holes in her, she was only aware that the man was upon her when the door rattled and jerked open. Old iron hardware squeaked as the garrison commander slithered into the room.

His brown eyes fixed on her and she met his gaze as bravely as she could. Her green eyes watched him, heart pounding in her ears, as he gave her a lewd grin and quietly closed the door. When he threw the bolt, she knew she was in trouble. Her palms began to sweat and it was a struggle not to scream. But she held her ground, courageously and foolishly, as he approached her. She could tell by the look in his eye that her life, as she had once known it, was over.

He was drunk. She could smell it on his breath from where she sat. When he ordered her to stand and remove her clothing, she refused. Unable to abide disobedience, the garrison commander grabbed her slender wrist and fractured the bones as he yanked her up from the chair and tossed her onto the bed. She tried to scramble off, to run, but she was a small woman against a large man and he didn’t care how much he hurt her in the process. He grabbed an ankle and struck her on the side of the head to still her.

As he tore her undergarments to shreds and threw his big, smelly body on top of her, Amalie Leighton Rossington de Vere screamed at the top of her lungs, fighting with every ounce of strength she had to resist. But the garrison commander was too strong and too big; he quickly overwhelmed and trapped her, wedging himself between her supple legs and ramming himself into her virginal body. He grunted with pleasure as she screamed in pain.

The agony went on long into the night. When he wasn’t raping her, he was beating her. By the time morning arrived, the garrison commander had raped his captive four times and beat her so badly that her right eye was swollen shut. When dawn arrived, he calmly replaced his clothing and left her chamber as if nothing was amiss. But clearly, a good deal was amiss. In his wake, he left blood and weeping.

A sympathetic guard, a very young man with sisters of his own, made sure the lady was tended and put to bed. When the garrison commander began to speak loudly of his conquest at the nooning meal, the sympathetic guard was sickened into action. Before the day was out, he sent a message to their liege, Henry of Bolingbroke.

Until a reply was received, he took the lady and hid her deep in the tunnels of Hedingham so the garrison commander could not abuse her again. The garrison commander roared and threatened, but no one would tell him where the lady was, mostly because no one knew but the young guard. He kept his mouth shut, praying for a swift reply from Bolingbroke.

Within a few weeks, his prayers were answered; the garrison commander was immediately recalled and another man assigned. All men knew and cheered the new commander, a knight of immense power and reputation, who was both feared and respected. Sir Weston de Royans was a man of supreme talent and strength, newly returned from the siege of Vilnius, a military action supported by Henry of Bolingbroke. Weston had led Henry’s armies in their attempts to defend the Duchy of Vilnius, but the battle was still ongoing. It had been for years.

Now, Weston was coming to assume command of mighty Hedingham Castle, stronghold of the Earl of Oxford and the Duke of Ireland. It was no small assignment during this dark and volatile time.

But de Royans wasn’t due to assume his position for more than a month, so the sympathetic guard spent the next forty-four days guarding the Lady Amalie against those who would resume where the banished garrison commander left off. Such were the orders of Bolingbroke, and the lady was allowed to heal from her ordeal physically. Mentally, it was another issue altogether.

For the occupants of the castle, including the Lady Amalie, the tides were about to turn with the appearance of Sir Weston de Royans.