Once Upon a Historical Christmas Read online

  Table of Contents

  A Knight's Redemption by Catherine Kean

  Copyright

  Reader Letter

  Knight's Series Characters

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  About Catherine Kean

  Connect with Catherine Kean

  Also by Catherine Kean

  The Holly Bears a Berry by Anna Markland

  Copyright

  Note to Readers

  More Anna Markland

  Meddlesome Priest

  Packing

  Mischief Afoot

  First Meeting

  Crossing

  England

  Impending Doom

  Canterbury

  Irreverent Kiss

  Barham Court

  Flight

  Every Ending

  Unlikely Hero

  Berries

  Coming Home

  An Important Test

  A Wedding

  Teasing

  A Bedding

  Postscriptum

  Historical Footnotes

  About Anna Markland

  The Knight Before Christmas by Laurel O'Donnell

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Dear Reader

  More Books by Laurel O'Donnell

  Silent Knight: Alexander by Elizabeth Rose

  Copyright

  Note to Readers

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  From Elizabeth Rose

  List of Series by Elizabeth Rose

  About Elizabeth Rose

  A Knight's Redemption

  Knight's Series Book 6

  By

  Catherine Kean

  A Knight's Redemption

  Catherine Kean

  Copyright Details

  A Knight's Redemption Copyright © 2018 by Catherine Kean

  Published by Catherine Kean

  P.O. Box 917624

  Longwood, FL 32791-7624

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  A Knight's Redemption

  Catherine Kean

  Reader Letter

  Dear Readers,

  Writing A Knight’s Redemption was truly a joy, for it allowed me to revisit some of my favorite alpha male knights and their equally strong ladies. If you are new to my Knight’s Series novels, all of the books can be read as stand-alones. However, there is an overall story arc that is best illuminated by reading the novels in the following order:

  A Knight’s Vengeance (Book 1)

  A Knight’s Reward (Book 2)

  A Knight’s Temptation (Book 3)

  A Knight’s Persuasion (Book 4)

  A Knight’s Seduction (Book 5)

  A Knight’s Redemption (Book 6)

  I hope you enjoy Mary and Holden’s romantic adventure and catching up with some of my beloved heroes, heroines, and their little ones.

  Warmest wishes to you for a wonderful Christmas.

  Catherine

  A Knight's Redemption

  Catherine Kean

  Knight’s Series Characters

  Geoffrey de Lanceau: Hero of A Knight’s Vengeance. Lord of Branton Keep and the county of Moydenshire. Married to Elizabeth (nee Brackendale). Father of Edouard, Edouard’s sister, and Tye.

  Elizabeth de Lanceau: Heroine of A Knight’s Vengeance. Geoffrey’s wife. Edouard’s mother.

  Tye: Hero of A Knight’s Seduction. Geoffrey’s illegitimate son. Edouard’s half-brother.

  Claire: Heroine of A Knight’s Seduction. Tye’s wife. Mother of Isolde.

  Isolde: Tye and Claire’s infant daughter.

  Edouard de Lanceau: Hero of A Knight’s Persuasion. Geoffrey and Elizabeth’s son. The de Lanceau heir.

  Juliana: Heroine of A Knight’s Persuasion. Edouard’s wife. Mother of Rosemary.

  Rosemary: Edouard and Juliana’s adopted daughter.

  Dominic de Terre: Hero of A Knight’s Reward. Married to Gisela (nee Balewyne).

  Gisela: Heroine of A Knight’s Reward. Dominic’s wife.

  Aldwin Treynarde: Hero of A Knight’s Temptation. Crossbow expert. Married to Leona (nee Ransley).

  Leona: Heroine of A Knight’s Temptation. Aldwin’s wife.

  A Knight's Redemption

  Catherine Kean

  Chapter One

  The Great Hall of Branton Keep, Moydenshire, England

  December 22, 1209

  “I have news.” Seated on the opposite side of the oak trestle table, the blond squire grinned.

  Chewing a mouthful of vegetable pottage, fourteen-year-old Holden Kendall tried not to seem too intrigued. Selden Brockley was, after all, a bit of an ass. He was always trying to prove himself more informed and better skilled than the rest of the squires. After a long-enough pause, Holden asked: “What kind of news?”

  “’Tis about this Christmas’s Lord of Misrule.”

  Holden cast a sidelong glance at ginger-haired Penley Fielding, the first friend he’d made upon arriving at Branton Keep last spring. Penley, also a squire, was his closest mate, and they always sat together for meals in the great hall.

  With Christmas soon to arrive, they’d both noticed the sense of anticipation spreading throughout the fortress. Lord and Lady Brackendale, the father and step-mother of Elizabeth, the beautiful lady wife of their liege Geoffrey de Lanceau, had visited days ago, as they apparently did around this time every year. Since they lived reasonably close by, they’d be back to spend Christmas Eve and Day at Branton Keep, but their earlier visit had helped spark the feeling that the holiday was swiftly approaching.

  Holden had heard from maidservants that the two ladies had spent much of the day crafting wreaths and garlands from pine boughs, holly, pinecones, and ribbons, while the lords had shut themselves away in the solar, likely to discuss matters of estate. Before the evening meal had been served, Holden and several other squires had been summoned to put up the decorations the ladies had made. Since then, whenever Holden had walked
into the hall, he’d caught the scent of pine mingled with the earthier smell of smoke from the hearth blaze and wall torches.

  The bailey smelled different too. The mouth-watering scents of mince pies and ginger cake wafted from the kitchens. Platters of the delicious treats accompanied meals, and folk talked with excitement of the grand subtlety, shaped like a goose, that the cook planned to make for the Christmas Day feast. And the men-at-arms, who liked to linger around the garrison’s fire in the evenings, had been sharing tales about the Lord of Misrule.

  Holden had learned that just before Christmas, as part of the seasonal revelry, de Lanceau would appoint a man in his household to rule the castle for a short while. Two years ago, a stable hand had been given the honor; last year, a gardener. Whatever the Lord of Misrule commanded had to be done—just as if the fortress’s ruling nobleman had given the order. Without fail, mischief and merriment ensued.

  While the Lord of Misrule had been originally been a tradition of clergymen, de Lanceau had adopted his own version at Branton Keep. It sounded like great fun, and Holden and Penley had lain awake for the past few nights discussing the tricks they’d play on their friends—especially Selden—if they were ever lucky enough to be appointed Lord of Misrule.

  When the blond squire continued to tuck into his pottage rather than divulge his news, Holden sighed. “For God’s sake, what do you have to tell us, then?”

  “Aye, Selden,” Penley grumbled around a bite of the coarse grain bread served at almost every meal. “You are cruel to intrigue us and then stay silent.”

  “Fine.” The blond lad leaned in closer. “This afternoon, I overheard Lord de Lanceau talking to the captain-of-the-guard—”

  “You eavesdropped on his lordship?” Unease racing through Holden, he glanced both ways down the table, to see if any other squires were following the conversation, but their colleagues were involved in other discussions. With the vast room full of men, women, and children partaking of the midday meal, and laughter and conversation creating ongoing noise in the hall, ’twas unlikely anyone at the nearby tables would have heard, either.

  As Holden’s gaze returned to Selden, the squire shrugged, clearly not the least bit concerned by his transgression, and shoved more pottage into his mouth.

  “’You do realize eavesdropping is dishonorable?” Holden said.

  “Ah, Holden.” Selden grimaced. “Always so noble.”

  Irritation crackled within Holden. He did strive to be noble, just like the bold, brave knights he admired. One day, he hoped to be as renowned as de Lanceau, who was lauded in chansons.

  Selden, a firstborn son and heir, loved to point out that he was destined for far greater things than Holden. Once he inherited, Selden would help govern Moydenshire, while Holden, a fourth son, was not destined to gain titles or lands.

  Unfortunately, the blond lad was also one of the most skilled squires at the castle. ’Twas no secret he strove to be the very best. But, Selden clearly needed a reminder that he must abide the rules of chivalry, just like everyone else. “We are training to become knights,” Holden said.

  “So?”

  Holden almost choked on the fare he’d just put in his mouth. He forced himself to chew and swallow. “So?”

  Penley slapped his hand on the table. “You two can argue later. What is the news?”

  Selden dragged his spoon through his half-finished bowl of fare. “I am not certain now if I will share what I know.”

  Eyes narrowing, Holden dropped his gaze to his pottage. Selden was acting the fool, but until he divulged what he knew, Holden wouldn’t challenge him further.

  “Tell us,” Penley said eagerly. “Come on.”

  After a delay—Selden clearly enjoyed drawing out the torment—he said: “This year, for the Lord of Misrule, de Lanceau will choose a squire.”

  Shock raced through Holden, followed by excitement. He could hardly believe what Selden had said. He considered saying so, but he also couldn’t think of any good reason why his lord wouldn’t pick a squire.

  What if Holden were chosen? He’d do all that he and Penley had talked about, including jumping out of the keep’s hidden passageways to scare the chambermaids. The castle folk knew about the passageways, but they were normally forbidden; they were only to be used if the fortress was under attack.

  Holden would also order the kitchen staff to cook roast lamb, his favorite meal; make Selden complete all of his chores as well as clean out the privies; and even borrow his lordship’s sword to spar with the captain-of-the-guard.

  Another, even more enticing thought teased him, and his gaze shifted down the hall to the table on the raised stone dais where Lord and Lady de Lanceau were dining. This morning, they’d welcomed some honored guests: a bearded nobleman who was the first to arrive, and then a stocky, gray-haired lord and his daughter. The brown-haired young lady, wearing a honey-colored silk gown, was eating with delicate refinement.

  He remembered her stepping down from her sire’s carriage upon arriving at the castle. Holden and his fellow squires had been improving their close-combat skills with instruction from the men-at-arms. Smoothing her fur-trimmed cloak, her braided hair gleaming in the sunlight, she’d glanced about the bailey as though fascinated. No doubt she’d heard the chansons that recounted how years ago, de Lanceau, driven to avenge his sire’s killing, had kidnapped Lady Elizabeth Brackendale and held her hostage. He’d demanded that her father relinquish the great keep at Wode, which had formerly been ruled by de Lanceau’s ancestors—and how the forbidden love that had blossomed between Geoffrey and Elizabeth had helped reveal shocking secrets and changed many lives.

  As the visiting lady had followed her sire and de Lanceau to the forebuilding of the keep, Holden had stared, unable to wrest his gaze from her. The distraction had cost him. He’d been knocked off his feet and had lost the match.

  Longing to know more about her, he’d talked to some of the chambermaids. He’d learned her given name was Mary, and that she was the youngest of Lord Westbrook’s two daughters. Also, she was unmarried.

  He had to meet her.

  Twice since yesterday, he’d managed to catch her gaze, but she’d quickly looked away and hurried on, thwarting any chance to talk to her. Was she shy? Or mayhap, like some of the other ladies he’d encountered, she liked being coy, expecting him to send her little presents or romantic notes to show his interest.

  If only he had the coin to buy gifts worthy of her. His sire, though, ruled an older castle that needed considerable repairs, and had made it clear that Holden was responsible for paying his own way, just like the other men in his family who’d never inherit. Holden had sold his spare pair of boots and eating dagger to raise enough money to reach Wode. He could read and write, but to pen missives, he’d need a quill, ink, and parchment, and at the very least, asking the captain-of-the-guard for such items would lead to awkward questions he’d rather not answer.

  Yet, if he were the Lord of Misrule, he could easily arrange to meet Lady Westbrook.

  He could even order her to kiss him.

  “Has his lordship ever picked a squire before?” Penley was saying.

  “Not as far as I know.” Selden sipped from his mug of ale. “He will choose me.”

  Penley snorted. “What makes you say that?”

  The blond squire’s expression turned indignant. “I am the most worthy choice. I won the most matches this week as well as last week, remember?”

  Smirking, Penley said, “I hope Holden gets chosen.”

  With a flicker of surprise, Holden met his friend’s stare.

  “Him? Why?” Selden asked.

  Seeing the teasing gleam in Penley’s eyes, Holden struggled to hold back the heat warming his cheekbones and sopped up the last of his pottage with some bread. Penley knew of Holden’s interest in Lady Westbrook, but he’d better not say a word—

  “If Holden were Lord of Misrule, he could command a kiss from her.”

  “Thanks a bloody lot,” Holden
muttered.

  “Her?” Selden’s eyes widened. “As in…?”

  “The lady near the end of the table. Right?” The ginger-haired squire elbowed Holden in the ribs.

  Holden glowered. “Why did you tell?”

  “I just felt like it.” Grinning, Penley added, “You can kick my arse later, if I do not kick yours first.”

  Mortification and anger knotted up inside Holden, and his face grew even hotter.

  “Ha! He is blushing,” Selden shouted while pointing at Holden.

  His face on fire, Holden popped his last morsel of bread into his mouth. If only he could rise and storm out of the hall, but he’d draw unwanted attention to himself. He didn’t want to have to explain to de Lanceau, whom Holden greatly admired, why he’d ignored protocol and left in the middle of the meal.

  “Bastard,” he muttered to Penley.

  His friend laughed.

  “Do you really want to kiss Lady Westbrook?” Selden asked with a disparaging sniff. “She is not even pretty.”

  Holden pushed away his bowl. “I think she is.”

  “Her hair is an unremarkable color,” Selden said.

  ’Tis the hue of seasoned, polished leather.

  “Her skin is too pale—”

  ’Tis the color of fresh, sweet cream.

  “—and she is fat.”

  Fat? Holden scowled. “Do not be mean.”

  Selden had the gall to look affronted. “I am only telling the truth.”

  “Her woman’s curves look fine to me,” Holden said.

  “Well,” Selden smirked, “regardless how you feel, you are not going to get to know her any better than you do now.”

  “Why not?”

  The blond squire shook his head. “I have heard Lord Westbrook is a cruel bastard. Even his own knights fear him.”

  Holden had heard the same. Yet, he’d never been one to run from a challenge.

  He might be landless and penniless now, but if he trained hard, became skilled with a sword, he could earn a decent living as a man-at-arms in a lord’s garrison or a mercenary. Moreover, he was of noble bloodlines. He was entitled to speak to Lady Westbrook and even sit beside her at the lord’s table, if he were invited to do so.

  “Stop tormenting yourself, Holden,” Selden said before downing more ale. “You are not going to be this year’s Lord of Misrule, and you are not going to get anywhere close to her ladyship.”