Chapter One
London, England
It was the time of year when the humidity from the River Thames began to make itself known… and that was exactly what worried her.
Already, she could feel the sweat on her back and she was terrified that it would bleed through the fabric of her silk dress in an embarrassing display.
It was a borrowed dress as it was, and she wanted to ensure it remained pristine for the party.
But having been sent on an errand for the duchess, the stress and heat had her headed straight for embarrassment.
Upon the Blessed Virgin, please do not let me make a fool of myself!
Inside the duchess’ fortified carriage as it made its way back to Westminster Palace, Lady Lyssa du Bose was the only one in the cab, which was a good thing.
The driver, having been instructed to make all due haste back to the London townhome of the Duke and Duchess of Colchester, had taken that command literally and was flying over the road, bouncing Lyssa around so much that she’d hit her head on the side of the cab.
And the precious cargo she held – slippers made from gold thread and intended for the prince’s wife on the event of her birthday celebration – had also gone flying.
Now, Lyssa was attempting to collect the strewn slippers from the floor of the cab and trying not to get killed in the process.
But the duchess had told them to hurry, and hurry they were.
Whether or not it incapacitated them.
Lyssa finally shouted to the driver to slow down, which he did, marginally.
There was still a good deal of bounce going on but at least Lyssa could keep her balance now.
She began to curse the duchess for leaving the slippers behind – they had been invited to a birthday celebration and, in the excitement, had forgotten the tribute for the guest of honor.
All of England’s nobility had turned out for the celebration of Hawisa of Gloucester, wife to Prince John, and Westminster Palace had been alive with lights and music when last Lyssa had seen it.
The smells of exotic foods covered half of London.
But it had been a very brief experience before Lyssa had been hustled back into the carriage to retrieve the forgotten gift.
Truth be told, she wanted to return quickly to the palace, too.
It wasn’t often that the entire household of the Duke of Colchester was invited out into London society, so this was a rare and exciting treat.
Great knights and nobles alike would be there, to see and be seen, so it was quite an exciting occasion.
Therefore, Lyssa held tight to the beautiful slippers and prayed the sweat on her back wouldn’t soak through the silk as the carriage, once again, approached Westminster Palace, perched like a lion on the banks of the gentle Thames.
When she saw the lights of the palace come into view, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Although it hadn’t been a long trip to the ducal townhome, it seemed as if it had taken hours.
Even as the carriage approached the palace, once again, under the watercolor-stained sky of sunset, there were still hordes of guests arriving.
There was a line of carriages and people, all of them waiting to enter the grounds but being inspected by gangs of Prince John’s soldiers.
There was some contention here; everyone could feel it.
Prince John’s men were different from the king’s soldiers – the man had his own army, men paid for their loyalty to him, and it made for tense times in England these days.
Like two dominant cocks, Richard’s royal guard and John’s mercenary force coexisted out of necessity but it didn’t take much for a skirmish to erupt.
Usually, John’s men stayed away from the royal properties but, tonight, they were front and center because of the event at Westminster.
Now, the two groups, both the royal guard and the prince’s guard, were in close quarters and Lyssa had heard the duchess mention that it would make for an interesting, if not deadly, night.
“My lady!” the carriage driver had lifted up the small window at the top of the cab that allowed him to communicate with the passengers. “Get out of the carriage and make your way inside. With all of the people crowding at the entrance, it will take us hours to move forward.”
Lyssa nodded, gathering the precious slippers and opening the rear door of the cab.
There was a ducal soldier there, one of four who had accompanied her with the carriage, and he helped her out onto the street.
Fortunately, the hard-packed earth road was dry enough, as there hadn’t been any rain for about a week, so there was no mud to slog through.
In her borrowed silk gown of brilliant blue, cut so that the sleeves draped like angel’s wings and the neckline was rather low and daring, Lyssa held the slippers tightly as she scurried away from the cab and lost herself in the crowd trying to get in through the gates of Westminster.
There were horses and knights and soldiers everywhere as she wound her way through the crowd, inviting a few rather interested glances as she went.
With hazel eyes that appeared bronze in certain light and reddish-brown hair that was nearly the same color as her eyes, Lyssa du Bose was an exquisitely beautiful woman.
She wasn’t a tall woman and not particularly slender, giving her a delicious figure that many a man had taken a second look at.
For that reason alone, the duchess kept Lyssa somewhat concealed in her entourage of women so that she wouldn’t take the attention away from the duchess herself.
It had been that way since Lyssa had first come to serve the Duchess of Colchester as a lady-in-waiting and, therefore, Lyssa had become used to being hidden back behind other women and dressed in drab or ill-fitting clothing.
The dress she had on now was loaned to her by another of the duchess’ ladies who thought it was time for Lyssa’s beauty to come forth.
And come forth, it did, like the sun beaming out from behind a storm – men were nearly falling over themselves trying to catch a glimpse of the bronze-haired goddess, but Lyssa didn’t notice.
Such attention was never meant for her. She couldn’t have possibly known that being sent back to retrieve the forgotten gift had been the duchess’ ploy to remove her so that the duchess could shine when making her entrance to the great hall of Winchester.
But she should have guessed.
Still, she was focused on her task, making her way through the gangs of men and animals as she approached the hall of Westminster Palace.
Gazing up at the structure, Lyssa imagined that this must have been what heaven looked like, for the windows of the hall were emitting bright streams of light out as if reaching golden fingers straight up to the sky.
Voices, music, and laughter wafted upon the humid air and filled her heart with excitement.
Surely there was nothing more beautiful than Westminster on this night and she was delighted to be here.
She even hoped that she might dance, as she and the other ladies had been practicing their dances in the weeks leading up to the festivities.
She was rather good at dancing, she thought.
But fleeting dreams of dancing and frivolity were struck from her mind when a big body suddenly intercepted her path.
“My sweet and beautiful lady,” the man said. “Where are you rushing to? Might I be of assistance?”
The mere tone of his voice made Lyssa’s blood run cold with fear. Stumbling back away from him, she tried to catch her balance but she didn’t speak; she simply wanted to get away from him. As she tried to dart around him, he boldly grabbed her arm.
“I am sorry if I frightened you, my lady,” he said, his tone not sounding so lascivious this time. He sounded soft and pleading. “Forgive me. I only meant to help.”
Lyssa shook her head quickly and tried to pull her arm away, but he wouldn’t let go. He was a big man, dressed in mail weaponry, and she could smell the body odor from him. It turned her stomach.
“Will you speak to me, my lady?” he begged. “One word and I shall let you go. All I ask is for one word from your precious lips.”
Verging on frightened tears, Lyssa shook her head again and, once more, tried to pull her arm free, but he held tight.
In her panic, she pulled too hard and the slippers in her grasp fell to the dirt.
Gasping with horror, she tried to pick them up but the man would not release her.
In fact, he yanked her in his direction.
“Just a word, pigeon,” he purred. “All I want is a word and I shall release you.”
Terrified, Lyssa began banging at his hand, his wrist, trying to force him to release her.
Around them, his friends were laughing boorishly and Lyssa was very close to becoming hysterical.
In a fit of terror, she bent over and bit his hand, forcing him to release her. As she stumbled back, he growled.
“You should not have done that,” he said. Now, he sounded deadly. “That will cost you.”
Lyssa knew he was going to grab her again and, perhaps, even take her away where she couldn’t scream for help. She fell to her knees to grab the golden slippers, trying to dart away from the man in the same movement but, in that instant, something surprising happened.
A knight in shining armor had come to save her.
*
“Christ, what a night.” A knight in well-worn armor and bearing the royal crimson tunic of Richard of England sighed. “I feel as if there will be a battle at any moment.”
Standing at the entrance to Westminster’s hall as herds of finely-dressed nobles rushed the doors in their haste to enter the festivities, the Royal Household Knights of Richard I of England surveyed the scene before them.