Authors: Laurel O'Donnell
A Knight of Honor (55 page)
Surprise rocked Slane, and then pride.
He gently ran a finger along her cheek.
“You’ve conquered all your ghosts,” he said with admiration, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her tight against him.
“It will take a lot of work.
A lot of dedication.”
Taylor stroked his cheek, gazing into his eyes with affection and tenderness.
She kissed his lips lightly, brushing hers along his with a feather-light stroke.
“We will rebuild.
It’s time to start a new life, to stop looking over my shoulder.”
Slane nodded.
“I agree,” he said, running a hand through her wet hair.
“Then I will give you what you desire.”
Taylor stared adoringly into his eyes, all the mischief gone, replaced by genuine sincerity.
“I love you, Slane Donovan.”
The words spoken from her lips ignited a powerful response in Slane.
Elated, he pressed his lips to hers, encircling her with his powerful arms.
Then he pulled back to gaze into her wondrous eyes.
“I knew it,” he said.
“Pretty arrogant, aren’t you?”
“And why shouldn’t I be?” Slane asked.
“I learned from the best.”
Taylor played with a lock of his wet hair, curling it around her finger.
“For all these years I believed that there was no such thing as true love.
What a fool I’ve been.
There is such a thing.
And it saved me, Slane.
You saved me.
Not only from the stake, but from my past as well.”
“Isn’t that what a knight of honor does?”
“That, and he marries poor, helpless mercenary girls.”
A large crash from the castle made both of them turn and look.
The fire was dying, its flames withering, its deadly heat fading.
The crackling flames spit one last venomous hiss before becoming nothing more than a mute whisper.
Taylor stepped away from Slane, facing the dying beast.
She stared at the fading fire for a long moment, feeling a sense of triumph.
Slane stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
And Taylor knew peace for the first time in eight years.
The End
Dear Reader –
I’m so happy that you picked Taylor and Slane’s story to read.
Taylor has turned out to be one of my favorite heroines.
She’s feisty and strong-willed, and she wields a sword as well as any man.
A mercenary who lives on the streets, she has come to think very little of honor.
She does what she has to do to survive.
Slane, on the other hand, truly is a knight of honor.
He is gallant and chivalrous.
He’s the type of hero ladies think of when they think of medieval knights.
Thank you for choosing A Knight of Honor.
I hope it transported you into the wonderful world of adventure, medieval pageantry, and love.
Please keep an eye out for my other books:
THE LADY AND THE FALCONER
THE ANGEL AND THE PRINCE (available now on the Kindle)
MIDNIGHT SHADOW
CHAMPION OF THE HEART
And my novella:
THE BRIDE AND THE BRUTE
I hope to entertain you with new exciting tales in the near future.
Laurel O’Donnell
Laurel O’Donnell has won numerous awards for her works, including the Holt Medallion for A Knight of Honor, the Happily Ever After contest for The Angel’s Assassin, and the Indiana’s Golden Opportunity contest for Immortal Death.
The Angel and the Prince was nominated by the Romance Writers of America for their prestigious Golden Heart award.
O’Donnell lives in Illinois with her four cherished children, her beloved husband and her five cats.
She finds precious time every day to escape into the medieval world and bring her characters to life in her writing.
Website:
www.laurel-odonnell.com
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Laurel-ODonnell/150078331715261
The Angel and the Prince
In this exciting medieval romance, the French lady knight known as the Angel of Death wages a battle of wills and desires against her dreaded enemy -- the English warrior known as the Prince of Darkness.
Ryen De Bouriez is a French warrior, dedicated to protecting her country against the hated English. In place of glittering ball gowns, she wears shining armor. Instead of practicing the gentler arts, she wields a sword. Those who whisper her name in fear and awe call her the Angel of Death.
Bryce Princeton is the Prince of Darkness, an English knight sent by his king to find and destroy their most hated adversary -- the Angel of Death. Little does he know that his enemy is no man at all, but a beautiful woman who will challenge his heart and honor at every turn.
Forced to choose between love and honor, the Angel and the Prince wage a battle of wills that challenges everything they have ever believed in.
The Angel and the Prince - Prologue
France, 1410
The choir of voices ascended to the far corners of the cathedral, where sculptured angels listened with somber faces to the Latin words.
Shining white marble pillars spiraled down to the steps of the great altar.
At the top stair stood King Charles VI.
Behind him stood eight small boys dressed in immaculate white robes, each holding a red velvet pillow with golden tassels at each corner.
Upon every silky velvet pillow there rested a resplendent sword.
Above and behind the boys, golden statues of saints stretched out their cold arms in welcome and forgiveness with unseeing eyes.
The king shifted his regal stance, his gaze locked on the tall wooden doors at the back of the church.
He knew eight young men waited anxiously outside, their breath tight in their chests, their palms slick with nervous sweat.
Each one would enter as a squire filled with a boy’s apprehension, and each one would leave as a knight of the realm filled with a warrior’s pride.
One of the banners caught his eye.
It was for Ryen De Bouriez, the third son of Baron Jean Claude De Bouriez.
King Charles scanned the mass of people before him until they came to rest on two men – the elder De Bouriez brothers.
They were tall, even by knightly standards.
Lucien was fair; his honeyed hair, blue eyes, and boyish looks were rumored to have cost more than one maiden her virtue.
Andre was dark, with chestnut eyes and a heart of gold.
Both were skilled warriors, and this pleased the king, for he knew Ryen would make an excellent addition to his troops.
He studied the brothers closely.
They shifted from foot to foot nervously; even Andre, who was usually so calm, seemed unsettled.
The king frowned.
Perhaps the two giants were uncomfortable with the civil surroundings and were eager to be out of the church.
King Charles sympathized.
The De Bouriezes were, after all, known for their prowess in battle, not their sociability.
The king glanced over row upon row of nobles in their elegant satins and velvets.
The Countess of Burgundy was there.
Not far from her, the flamboyant golden caul headdress of the Duchess of Orleans caught his eye.
Slowly, his brow creased into a frown as he finished surveying the attending nobility.
Where was Ryen’s father?
The choir of voices that had filled the chamber suddenly ended, their last echoes resonating throughout the cathedral until they slipped away into nothingness.
Glancing toward the trumpeters awaiting his signal in the balcony, King Charles nodded.
When they put the long golden horns to their lips, the triumphant music began.
All eyes turned to the heavy oak doors at the back of the church as they slowly creaked open.
Eight squires advanced down the long carpeted aisle, one behind the other.
Sunlight streamed in from the stained glass windows, reflecting brilliantly off the shining silver-and-gold plate mail of the approaching men.
King Charles squinted as a ray of light shone in his eyes.
He tried to be a fair man, judging all men equally, but he found himself anxious to see Ryen De Bouriez, around whom so much controversy swirled.
The first time his name had reached the king’s ears, it was with the capture of Castle Picardy, the feat that had earned him his knighthood.
King Charles had heard the same story three times, and with each telling Ryen’s achievements had seemed to grow until they were of Herculean proportions.
Sine then, the name Ryen De Bouriez had arisen time and time again in casual conversation.
The man’s strategic maneuvers were ingenious.