Nicholas’ gaze went dark. “You are not worthy to stand before her.”
In two strides, he reached his cousin and punched him hard enough to break his nose. “You were always sorry I wasn’t killed along with my family. I had what you wanted. The king’s favor. You sicken me. I let you live because of her. But you will take your family away from Scarborough. As far away as you can get. I will give you a fortnight to go. If I see your face after that, I will kill you. Do you understand?”
Reg nodded, holding his bloody nose.
“Get him out of here.”
“My lord,” Charlie said, staying behind. “We have the king also.”
“Let him go. He is still your king.”
He returned his attention to his wife. “How was that?”
“Very good.” She smiled and moved closer to him. “Now I think I will go with Elia to our room. I would like to rest.”
“Of course,” he said and handed her over to his head maid with a kiss to his wife’s head.
He stayed in the great hall helping his men clear it of the dead. After that, they drank to Kestrel’s safety.
“I had no intention of letting anyone hurt her, my lord,” Charlie told him. “I relieved one of the guards holding her. I killed him just beyond the hall. I knew it was only a matter of time before you broke free and killed them all.”
Charlie raised his cup to him and seeing him, his men did the same.
“What did you do with the king?” Nicholas asked.
“He is locked in his house. I have four guards stationed at the door.”
“Good. I want to speak to him.”
“I thought you would, my lord.”
Nicholas gave his first in command a curious look and then smiled at him. He smiled at them all. Then he left to go speak to the king.
*
“I was afraid Nicholas would be hurt or killed,” Kes told Elia in the library. The women sat in the chairs with warm mead spiked with Scottish whisky in their hands. “I couldn’t even see him there were so many man…”
“The king knows how fearsome Nicky is. And still those men were not enough.”
Kes was quiet for a time, thinking about it all and how Nicholas had gone wild over her and killed seven men where they stood.
She wasn’t against what he had had to do. He was the kind of man needed in the fifteenth century. If he wasn’t a well-abled warrior, she would have been dead twice now.
The truth of it was that she loved that he could fight so well. She loved that though he could be a merciless savage, he was also kind and thoughtful once a person got to know him. She’d seen how he’d treated Jonathan at Walter’s.
“You did well raising him, Elia,” Kes told her friend. “He’s a good man.”
“Aye,” Elia smiled. Her cheeks were pink, adding more color to her eyes. “But Edward was a good father to him. He is the reason Nicholas chose to be a knight, besides his other titles. He is an extraordinary man, and you, my dearest, are an extraordinary woman. You are meant to be together.”
“He is extraordinary. You’re right about that. Did you see him break free of all those men? It was like watching Samson. He fought with emotion and steadfast determination. I almost loved watching him.” She smiled and Elia nodded.
“Meant to be.”
“You say your father was…is like him. You had a finger pointing your way. You are fortunate.”
“I didn’t feel fortunate. I felt cursed. Cursed to know there was at least one good man out there and he was my father. I had this great role model to show me what I wanted and there weren’t many more men like him by the time the twentieth-first century rolled around.”
“What made him different?” Elia asked.
“I don’t know,” Kes told her honestly. “But Mr. Green—hmph Sir Gawaine of the Round Table read my lineage back only on my father’s side before he gave me the brooch. After my mother died, my father threw himself into his work. I didn’t see him all that much. But I heard him crying some nights for my mother. He loved her. I thought that was how all men loved the women they were with. I was wrong. I was beat over the head with the truth until I lost hope of ever finding a really good man.”
The door opened and Nicholas stepped inside. When he saw her, he smiled as if she were the only thing he ever wanted to see again.
“Are you well?” he asked tenderly, coming around to her chair.
“Yes. I wasn’t hurt, just frightened. I needed some quiet time. Is everything under control outside these doors?”
“Aye. I spoke to the king.”
“And?”
“And if I refuse to fight for him at Bosworth Field, he will not show up. Meaning he will not die there.” They both said the last together.
History would be changed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
They reached camp outside of Leicester early in the morning. It had taken a sennight to get here since leaving Scarborough. Nicholas missed Kestrel and hated having to be here to fight for a man who had tried to have his wife burned for being a witch. Richard had listened to lies because her last name was Lancaster. He’d shown no mercy to Nicholas’ wife and, for that, Nicholas would show him none.
But he had to pretend that he would. He trained with his men, as he did now, and sometimes ate and drank with them when they were home, while Kestrel spent time with Elia and her other dozens of friends, none of whom were stately, though she had gotten along well
