To Win a Lady's Heart

  A delightful read full of adventure, intrigue, and romance. Its combination of charming characters, rich setting, and medieval heroics make this book impossible to put down. Expertly researched, To Win a Lady’s Heart brings history and romance alive in a book readers will want to enjoy time and time again.

  —Juile Daines

  Cover image: Medieval Woman with Chestnut Horse © Nikaa / Trevillion Images

  Cover design copyright © 2016 by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  Published by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  American Fork, Utah

  Copyright © 2016 by Sian Ann Bessey

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format or in any medium without the written permission of the publisher, Covenant Communications, Inc., P.O. Box 416, American Fork, UT 84003. The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Covenant Communications, Inc., or any other entity.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, or are used fictitiously.

  ISBN 978-1-52440-220-4

  For Emily Manwaring and Samantha Millburn,

  whose encouragement and expertise are unfailing

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to give special thanks to my husband, Kent, and my children for their unwavering support. Throughout all the writing deadlines I’ve put them through, they’ve never once complained—even when dinner has meant foraging for leftover food in the fridge or eating a bowl of cold cereal.

  Thanks also to my parents, Noel and Pat Owen, who are (and always have been) my greatest fans. They were the ones who took me to Beddgelert as a child.

  I appreciate the love and support of all my siblings but especially my sister Emily Manwaring, who willingly reads all my first drafts and consistently gives me constructive suggestions.

  I’m grateful for my friendship with the remarkable people at Covenant Communications. I truly appreciate all their efforts on my behalf. My editor, Samantha Millburn, is a gem, and I’m so glad she’s willing to take the journey from manuscript to published book with me.

  And then there are you readers, who pick up my books and write to tell me that you stayed up late into the night reading them. Thank you for sacrificing your sleep and for letting me know how much you enjoy my novels. I hope this one will keep you up past your bedtime too.

  Glossary

  Addlepated—confused, stupid, or befuddled.

  Antechamber—a small room that serves as a waiting room or entrance into a larger room.

  Archery butt—a mound of earth on which targets are placed.

  Bowyer—a person who makes or sells archers’ bows.

  Carrack—a three- or four-mast sailing ship developed in the fifteenth century.

  Charger—the name given to a medieval English warhorse.

  Crenellated walls—a serrated or notched pattern built on the top of castle walls that enabled guards to protect their heads from incoming arrows while defending the castle.

  Fletching—the feathers on an arrow.

  Grand chamber—a large room in the keep used by the lord of the castle for private business.

  Great hall—a large room in the center of the keep where the public would gather for meals, entertainment, and business transactions.

  Hauberk—a shirt of chain mail.

  Inner bailey—sometimes known as an inner ward. It was the fortified enclosure at the center of a medieval castle. It surrounded the keep, where the Lord and his family resided, and was usually the location of the well and the most important defensive elements of the castle.

  Keep—a fortified tower built within castles during medieval times. Traditionally this was the residence of the lord and his family, along with knights and other visiting nobility. It was often the location of the castle kitchen, which gave the cook easy access to the well in the inner bailey.

  Landwaiter—a late-medieval customs official who watched over the loading and unloading of boats from foreign ports.

  Outer bailey—sometimes known as an outer ward or base court. The outer portion of a castle, separated from the inner bailey by a defensive wall. This was the location of most of the buildings and facilities necessary to maintain the castle, such as the stables, brewhouse, bakehouse, workshops, and granary.

  Pell—a wooden post planted firmly in the ground and used as a target when practicing swordplay.

  Plainchant—sometimes known as plainsong. A form of medieval music sung within churches. The words were chanted with no accompaniment.

  Searcher—a late-medieval customs official whose job was to ensure that the boat’s cargo tallied with what was on the receipt.

  Tidesman—a late-medieval customs official who stayed with the boat until the unloading of cargo was complete.

  Tidewaiter—a late-medieval customs official who boarded boats at high tide to ensure that they docked and unloaded their goods at the designated quay.

  Waghalter—a rogue; one likely to be hanged.

  Prologue

  Sir Edwyn leaned forward in his saddle, studying the surrounding trees. All was quiet. Too quiet. There was no birdsong, no rustling of small creatures in the fallen leaves. It was as though the very pulse of the forest had been suddenly extinguished. He turned his head. In the hushed clearing, a dozen of his fellow knights and their squires sat silently astride their horses, awaiting Lord Gilbert’s signal to begin their annual hunt in Langston Forest. But the exuberance that had been present among the men only an hour ago was gone, replaced by a disturbing sense of unease.

  From his position at the head of the riders, Lord Gilbert motioned Edwyn forward. “What do you make of it, Sir Edwyn?” Lord Gilbert spoke softly.

  “I cannot tell, my lord,” Edwyn replied, his horse shifting nervously beneath him. “But whatever it is, the animals feel it too.”

  Lord Gilbert spared a glance for the his greyhounds. Only moments before, the dogs had been anticipating the upcoming hunt with frenzied excitement. Now they were huddled together within the protective circle of the mounted knights.

  “What’s out there?” Lord Gilbert said, frowning at the trees as though he were deeply displeased that they were keeping secrets from him.

  The forest did not answer, but a whisper rippled through the waiting men, and Sir Maynard, one of Lord Gilbert’s most trusted knights, broke away from the others to approach him.

  With an acknowledging nod toward Edwyn, Sir Maynard faced Lord Gilbert. “If I may be so bold, my lord,” he said, his voice low. “It has just come to the attention of your men that Gelert is missing.”

  Lord Gilbert’s frown deepened. He looked to the place at his right where his faithful wolfhound, Gelert, always stood guard. The spot was empty. An unidentifiable emotion flitted across the lord’s face but was gone almost as quickly as it had arrived. “Return to the lodge,” he ordered with sudden urgency.

  The knights needed no second bidding. Moving as one, they wheeled their horses around and cantered after Lord Gilbert as he pressed his horse to greater speed along the narrow path that took them back to the outskirts of the forest.

  His lordship was the first to reach the lodge, but Edwyn was out of his saddle before him. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Edwyn ran to the side of the young guard who was lying on the ground clutching a blood-soaked thigh.

  “Who attacked you?” Edwyn said, crouching down and grasping the young man’s shoulders tightly.

  “He came out of nowhere,” the guard gasped, his eyes glazed. “There was no time to draw my sword before he attacked.”

  “Who? Who did thi
s?”

  Edwyn’s insistent voice must have finally penetrated the young man’s fog of pain because as awareness returned, his expression changed to one of panic. “Lady Joanna,” he gasped and began clawing his way across the ground toward the lodge’s open door. “He’s gone after the baby.”

  Edwyn jumped up. Behind him, knights were dismounting and drawing their swords as their squires readied their bows, but Lord Gilbert charged into the lodge alone, not waiting for his men. Edwyn pulled his dagger out of the scabbard on his belt and raced after Lord Gilbert.

  If Lord Gilbert’s cry of rage hadn’t stopped Edwyn in his tracks, the sight that met him when he crossed the lodge’s threshold would have. The cradle where Lord Gilbert’s infant daughter, Lady Joanna, had been sleeping was upturned, the bedding strewn across the room. Pools of blood stained the shredded woolen blankets and the wooden floor. And in the midst of the chaos, with bloodstreaked teeth, face, and fur, stood Lord Gilbert’s wolfhound.

  “Gelert!” Lord Gilbert roared, his face ashen. “What have you done?”

  Seemingly oblivious to his master’s fury, Gelert gave an answering bark and bounded across the room toward him. Lord Gilbert drew his sword, and with an agonized cry, he plunged it into the dog’s chest. For a second, time froze. Then the awfulness of the situation hit with full force. Gelert’s limp body fell to the floor, and his master dropped to his knees beside him, his sword clattering to the ground as he buried his face in his hands.

  As the other knights arrived at the doorway, Edwyn moved into the room. Lowering himself onto one knee beside Lord Gilbert, he picked up his lordship’s sword and wiped the blade clean. Unwilling to view the lifeless body of the once-beloved guard dog, Edwyn kept his head bowed and simply waited. One by one, the other knights filtered into the lodge and moved cautiously about the room, but still he waited.

  Finally Lord Gilbert lowered his hands. “Where is the nursemaid?” he asked, his voice harsh with emotion. “Where is the woman who pledged to care for my child?”

  “I do not know, my lord,” Edwyn said, a knot of dread forming in his stomach.

  “Find her!”

  “Yes, my lord.” Edwyn rose quickly, knowing he had to locate the nursemaid before anyone else joined the search.

  To his right, Sir Maynard and Sir Thomas were raising the cradle. He heard their collective gasps moments before Sir Maynard’s shout reached them.

  “Lord Gilbert, she lives! Lady Joanna is alive and unhurt.”

  Edwyn swung around, and Lord Gilbert stumbled to his feet. Sir Maynard reached down and raised a small bundle from the ground. It gave a high-pitched wail, and Lord Gilbert stepped forward, snatching the baby from Sir Maynard’s outstretched arms. He pulled back the swaddling clothes and stared into his daughter’s bright-blue eyes. She reached out a chubby hand to him.

  “But how?” He looked over at his men. “How can she be unharmed? You see the blood in here. The blood on Gelert.”

  “Lord Gilbert.” Sir Thomas’s voice was strained. “It seems that Gelert may have been the guardian, not the villain.”

  Three grave-faced knights moved back, and Sir Thomas tossed aside the blanket lying next to the cradle. An enormous wolf with savage claws and vicious fangs lay in a pool of blood, his curled-up lips and glassy eyes still menacing in death. Edwyn turned away from the hideous sight, nausea assailing him as he considered the brutal battle that must have taken place only minutes before the men had arrived. And to have it end with the tragic death of Lady Joanna’s solitary and valued defender made it all the worse.

  Hurrying to the door, Edwyn paused long enough to take three deep breaths before scouring the area outside the lodge for a clue as to the whereabouts of the nursemaid. Even though his mind was still reeling over what had just happened, he had to keep his wits about him. There had been enough tragedy for one day. The nursemaid’s fate could not be another.

  He ran to his waiting horse and swung himself into the saddle. With a quick glance behind him to be sure he was not being followed, he chose the path that led to the river. The leaf-covered ground masked the sound of the horse’s hooves, and the dense foliage soon completely concealed them.

  Pausing only long enough to get his bearings, Edwyn headed toward the sound of running water. He rounded a bend in the path and almost ran into a young woman holding a little boy’s hand.

  “Katherine!” Edwyn dismounted immediately and stood before her. “Where have you been?”

  “To the river, my lord,” she said, concern filling her eyes. “Didn’t the guard explain? Lady Joanna was fast asleep, and I told him I would not be gone long.” She looked slightly uncomfortable. “It was a necessary trip.”

  “The guard could not tell me,” Edwyn said grimly, “because he was attacked by a wolf.”

  Katherine’s eyes widened with shock. “A wolf?”

  “Yes,” he said. “And you are fortunate it did not come upon you and your son out here in the forest.”

  His rebuke had little effect. The nursemaid was not thinking of her own well-being. “The baby,” she gasped. “Did it find the baby?”

  Edwyn quickly rehearsed what had happened at the lodge, and Katherine’s complexion became more and more pale as the story unfolded.

  “I must go to her.” She moved away from Edwyn as she spoke.

  “No!” Edwyn had not intended for his voice to sound so harsh, but as Katherine halted in her tracks, he realized that it had given him the outcome he’d desired.

  “You must not go back to the lodge,” he said.

  “But Lady Joanna . . .”

  “You do not understand,” Edwyn said. “Lord Gilbert is distraught. Only moments ago he thought he’d lost his only child. By some miracle, she’s been given back to him, but the faithful guard dog who has been by his side for years and saved his daughter from a ravaging wolf was killed by his own hand mere minutes ago. He is not thinking rationally. If you return, his wrath will be heaped upon you, just as it was upon the healer Agnes when Lady Anabel died. There is no telling what he might do.”

  “But surely Lord Gilbert would not blame me for what has happened,” she said.

  “You were not where you should have been,” Edwyn said. “You did not protect the child and were not there to defend Gelert’s role in the attack when Lord Gilbert entered the lodge. Those things alone are sufficient for him to remove the culpability for what has happened from his own shoulders onto yours.”

  As the truth of Edwyn’s words registered, Katherine began to tremble. “What am I to do?” She clutched the toddler’s hand more tightly. “I am all that my son has left. If something were to happen to me, what would become of him?”

  Edwyn was well aware that Katherine was alone in the world. Until his death less than a year ago, her husband, Nicholas, had been Sir Edwyn’s squire, and after the man’s passing, Edwyn had remained mindful of Katherine’s difficult situation. It was he who had suggested bringing Katherine in to help when Lord Gilbert’s wife, Lady Anabel, had died in childbirth a few weeks after Nicholas’s death. Lady Anabel had left behind an infant daughter who had needed a wet nurse, and Katherine’s son had reached an age that he could be weaned. Having his squire’s widow take on the role of the baby’s nursemaid had seemed a perfect solution for everyone involved. Until today.

  “Where are you from, Katherine?” Edwyn asked. “You do not speak like the local women.”

  Confusion crossed the nursemaid’s face. His question was doubtless not the response she’d been expecting.

  “I grew up in Cornwall, my lord,” she said. “Not far from Launceston Castle.”

  “And can you ride?” Edwyn asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Then you must take my horse.” He extended the horse’s reins to her. “Take him, and return to your people in Cornwall. You will be safe there.”

  Katherine stumbled backward. “I cannot take your horse, Sir Edwyn,” she said.

  “Katherine.” He spoke urgently. “Nich
olas was my squire. He gave his life for me. You and I both know that if he had not taken the arrow intended for my heart, he would have been knighted for his efforts on the battlefield. I cannot, in all good conscience, sit back and allow harm to come to his widow and son. You will take my horse because I will not let you accept an unjust punishment.”

  Tears pooled in Katherine’s eyes. “And I must leave now?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “Before anyone else comes looking for you.”

  She took a hesitant step forward, and without another word, Edwyn helped her into the saddle, then lifted her son up to join her. The little boy’s questioning eyes were the image of his father’s, and Edwyn felt his chest tighten at the sight.

  “You should be well on your way by nightfall,” he said, handing her a small leather purse. “Then find an inn where you and the boy can rest. A stableman will help with the horse.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “I will not forget your kindness, Sir Edwyn,” she said. “And my son will know of it too.”

  Edwyn gave an acknowledging nod. “Godspeed to you both.”

  He watched until they disappeared through the trees, then he turned back toward the lodge. He would not dwell on the loss of his horse and saddle or the fact that he was acting expressly against his lordship’s request. He was a knight with a code of honor to uphold, and he’d made this commitment the day Nicholas had died in his arms.

  Chapter 1

  Eighteen years later

  Raising the torch in her hand, Lady Joanna peered into the darkness. Shadows cast by tall barrels, wooden crates, and lumpy sacks flickered across the walls, adding to the eeriness of the vast cellar. She shuddered, trying to ignore the sound of scurrying rodents as she moved across the dank room.

  “If you get too close, I’ll step on your tails,” she said. It was a vain threat, but it helped remind her that even though she was outnumbered, she was bigger than any rat in the cellar.