Huzzah, Medieval Romance Lovers! Welcome to romance in my favorite time period and hopefully yours, too. For several weeks, I’ve been teasing you with snippets from this book, but next week you can look forward to teasers from the next one in this series. In the meantime, enjoy this final sample from my #MedievalRomance, A Knight in Rusted Armor.
BLURB: Allys Stone would risk repute as a ruined woman to gain control of her life. Thorin Svenson would battle the most skilled knights in the realm to win her. Theirs is a love story of fairy tales and wild passion, a battle of wills as well as brawn.
Allys wants to choose her own husband, one who loves life and laughter as much as she does. One who considers her a partner instead of a possession. She has never had any choice but to live by her father’s decisions, and now he’s offering her as grand prize in a tournament.
Thorin must win the hand of a nobleman’s daughter to regain the wealth and position of his family. Consumed by guilt, he will risk his very life to win. Not even her attempts to sabotage his victory will get in his way.
BUY LINKS: AMAZON
“My lord?” Delores spoke from behind Thorin. He turned on his stool to face her. “There’s a room ready for you upstairs. A boy will show your man to the stables and then to his own lodging.”
He turned back to Hasheem. “Be ready to leave at sunrise.”
Hasheem downed the contents of his mug, nodded curtly to his liege, and raced out of the tavern.
Thorin bit off a slice of beef and tore a hunk from the trencher, using the stale bread to sop up some gravy. The meat was stringy, but Thorin cared little. Gravy, savory and delicious, dripped down his chin. He wiped it with his sleeve and chewed slowly, the first hot food he’d had in his belly in days.
Again, he had the feeling of being watched and lifted his eyes. Alice lingered near the bar, doing little. He chuckled to himself. Not a very good barmaid, he noted. He stood and walked over to where Alice stood, trying to pretend she was not staring at him.
“Thank you for supper,” he said. She was such a mighty small thing, his burly form towered over her. He smiled and pressed a token into her hand.
Alice stared at the coin in her palm. Then closing her fingers around it, she tilted her head back to look up at him. “Thank you, m-my lord.”
She does not sound like a peasant, Thorin thought. Her voice was mild, not brash and loud like so many other women he had known. Bright blue eyes, ringed by dark lashes, stared back as she studied him with an intensity that almost made him uncomfortable. And her skin. It was like fine porcelain and white as milk. Sharp contrast to her black hair. He reached out and rubbed his knuckles against her cheek.
Suddenly, Delores grabbed Alice’s arm firmly and pulled her away. “What did I just tell you?” she ground out through clenched teeth. She pulled Alice past Thorin. “Elsie will show you to your room, my lord,” the innkeeper called over her shoulder.
Thorin watched as Delores led Alice to the door. Disappointed, he turned back to find the girl who had served them when they first arrived.
Hasheem was right. There could be no mistaking her intention as she smiled up at him and turned away, obviously expecting him to follow. He scrubbed his hand over his face at the sight of her swaying hips moving across the room. He was too tired. Besides, Elsie did not sway him as Alice had.
When they reached the sleeping chamber, Elsie turned, a seductive smile twitching at the corners of her lips. “Will ye be wantin’ some company for the night, m’lord?”
M’lord. She did not even know his name. Nor, he assured himself, did she care. He pressed a silver coin into her palm and sent her away. As he entered the room, he pushed the door closed behind him then sat down heavily on the feather bed. He ached to his very bones. He and Hasheem had traveled a full nine days to reach Leywich Castle. He had been glad to see the parapets in the distance as they entered the village.
The meager room had everything needed to make a man’s visit comfortable. A down-filled mantle covered the bed on which he sat. A narrow cabinet stood along the opposite wall next to a tiny window. He expected Hasheem to come soon and fill it with the attire he had chosen for his arrival on the morrow.
Next to the bed stood a smaller cabinet, the front covered with thin strips of metal woven in a lattice pattern. Through the strips he could see a bowl of fruit, a pitcher and goblet. On top of the cabinet, sat a lit a candle.
Thorin bent over to unlace the bindings of his leather boots, but his hands froze as the heavy wooden door creaked open into the room. He peeked out the corner of one eye and saw a small foot step inside, too small to be his squire. A child come to steal for his supper?
Thorin decided to teach the little scamp a lesson he would not soon forget. He eased the knife from his belt.
Come back next week for another sample from my Medieval Romance, A Knight in Rusted Armor.
Want more? Check out my web site: www.bambilynn.net