Lord Tristram’s Love Match: Her Stern Husband Book Three Read online

  Lord Tristram’s Love Match

  Her Stern Husband Book Three

  R. R. Vane

  Published by Blushing Books

  An Imprint of

  ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.

  A Virginia Corporation

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

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  ©2021

  All rights reserved.

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  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

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  R. R. Vane

  Lord Tristram’s Love Match

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  eBook ISBN: 978-1-63954-000-6

  v1

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  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  R. R. Vane

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  Chapter 1

  England 1174

  From the ramparts, Judith could already see the enemy steadily approaching, and right beside the symbol of Henry’s rule, she glimpsed the azure banner which displayed a nimbly black eagle soaring with spread wings.

  “My lady,” Sir Roderick said in astonishment. “The banner... It’s...”

  Sir Roderick was in charge of the castle’s defence, and there was now a look of deep worry in his eyes.

  “I know what the banner is,” Judith cut him off with an impatient wave of her hand. “How long can we last if there’s a siege?”

  “We’re well prepared, my lady, and it could be perchance months. Redmore has strong defences and it is one of the few stone keeps in England. But–”

  Sir Roderick paused, but Judith already knew what he meant to say. She nodded to herself, coming to see there was no other course. She had pledged her allegiance to the cause of Queen Eleanor and of her son, Young Henry, who had rebelled against their king together with two of his younger brothers. Nevertheless now Eleanor lay vanquished, and Redmore was one of the last places King Henry’s loyal followers hadn’t taken. Eleanor’s cause was lost, so a siege would be pointless. The enemy would call for reinforcements and the castle would be eventually lost. And many lives would be wasted on both sides. Judith didn’t think it fair that her people should die for her choices. They must not perish pointlessly just because their lady had chosen the side which had been vanquished in this war. Henry’s victory had been arduous, because Eleanor and her sons had gathered many followers. Still, it was Henry who was victorious and not Eleanor’s party.

  “They will be upon us in less than an hour,” Sir Roderick said, now casting expectant eyes upon his lady.

  “You shall raise a white flag and open the gates,” Judith answered in a steady voice.

  She pulled her shoulders back, knowing too well there was no other course left. She prayed the enemy would prove merciful. Her fervent hope was that mercy would be given to her people. As for herself, she expected no mercy.

  Sir Roderick looked relieved and nodded in acknowledgment of his lady’s decision.

  “I shall be there to meet them at the gates,” Judith went on. “But I will need to speak to my lady mother. She does not know what I’ve resolved, and she needs to be told.”

  Sir Roderick bowed his head.

  “Aye, my lady.”

  It was with a heavy heart that Judith made her way to the solar which her mother had turned into her chambers. Lady Fenice met her with an anguished look in her fine blue eyes.

  “They’re at our gates already? Our enemies?” she inquired.

  Judith nodded.

  “It’s just as well then,” her mother said, attempting to plaster a brave smile upon her face. “We shall withstand them. Redmore is strong and it will bear the siege. We’ve months and months ahead. And even if the castle’s taken, we shall be able to take the secret escape tunnel your father built.”

  Judith knew the next words she would utter would be hard upon her mother. Yet her mother needed to be told the truth at once.

  “I have decided to surrender,” she said loud and clear.

  “Surrender? Why? The castle stands strong.”

  “Yet our cause is lost. And the siege will end only with our defeat. They will send for more men. Redmore is one of the last castles King Henry hasn’t taken. No one will aid us. Eleanor and her sons are vanquished. So there’s no choice but to surrender.”

  “Are you so cowardly? It will be noble to fight to the end!” Lady Fenice countered with a regal tilt of her head.

  “Noble, aye! Yet I cannot ask my people to sacrifice their lives over a noble cause. I cannot look them in the eye and tell them it’s nobler to die for the sake of my honour,” Judith countered in determined tones. “Father would not have wanted this, and you know it. He cared for his own, and, as his heir, I cannot do otherwise.”

  “They’re only commoners,” Lady Fenice muttered with a sigh.

  Judith stared at her amazed, as she’d often been in these past months, she’d not been able to see before that her mother did not, in truth, care for the people put under their care. Yet it was so, and Judith tried to tell herself it was mainly the melancholy which had become lodged into her mother’s soul which was causing this. Her mother had always been gentle and kind, and only of late had she started speaking so disparagingly of others.

  “Mother, for all our sakes there is no choice but to surrender. We’ll put ourselves at the mercy of our enemies, hoping they will prove gracious in their victory and spare our people.”

  Lady Fenice started to shake her head, but Judith halted her with a gesture.

  “My mind is set and it is my decision to make, not yours.”

  At last, her mother bowed her head, clutching her heart.

  “Perchance it is as you say. I am too frail of body. I cannot aid you in this.”

  “Take heart! No lord who holds his honour dear would dare harm a lady such as yourself!” Judith said, clasping her mother’s hand.

  Lady Fenice nodded with a tremulous smile on her beautiful face.

  “Whose banner is the enemy under?” she asked at last, right before Judith could let herself out of the chamber.

  Judith breathed in deep as she turned to face her mother yet again.

  “De Brunne,” she answered in a voice which only strived to seem steady.

  “Ah,” Lady Fenice muttered, and there was a long silence before she spoke again. “Daughter, I fear De Brunne will show you no mercy.”

  Judith summoned all the strength she could muster, telling herself not to dwell upon the past any longer.

  “Yet he may show y
ou mercy. And he will show my people mercy. It’s all I ask,” she said, and then hurried out of her mother’s chamber, knowing time was growing short and that she needed to be at the gates when the enemy reached them.

  It was not long before Redmore’s gates were tossed open, to let in the conquering army of men who carried the azure banner with the eagle displayed. Judith stood there straight as an arrow, trying to still her thumping heart, as those who led the army rode in. There were two lord knights on horseback in their hauberks and helmets, accompanied by a man of the Church and the banner men. The lords dismounted, and they were both tall and broad of shoulders, yet one was leaner and slighter of form than the other. He walked to where she was with feline grace, as if the hauberk and helmet did not weigh heavy upon him. He spoke to her in a voice which sounded melodious, even in spite of its harsh tone. She knew that voice. She had no need of seeing the knight’s face to know who he was. He was Tristram de Brunne, and both his face and voice had long haunted her dreams.

  “It seems surrendering the castle is the only wise thing you ever did, wife,” the voice uttered.

  Wife. Judith straightened her spine even further, aware of the knights and soldiers now surrounding her and casting her looks of grim displeasure.

  “Sire, if you recall, we are no longer wed,” she said, striving to keep her dignity.

  The lord knight didn’t answer, but took the time to remove his helmet. He was, Judith noted when she looked better upon him, every bit as beautiful as she recalled him to be, even if his face was grimy with road dust and weary.

  “You do not recall?” he flung at her in a bitter voice. “The Church did not agree to the annulment.”

  Judith stared at him, stunned. She had not known. Surely – the letter which had reached her more than one year ago had plainly stated that the Church had agreed on the annulment for which she’d petitioned. She’d read it herself. Many times. Then how had this come to be?

  “Nay,” she uttered shaking her head, but by the way Tristram was now looking upon her, it seemed he didn’t believe she had not known of this.

  The tall, wispy man of the Church came to stand by Tristram’s side. He was not much older than Tristram, yet he wore a stern, disapproving expression upon his face, which nearly matched Lord de Brunne’s hardened countenance. He spoke disdainfully to Judith, “The Church’s word is law. You are still Lord Tristram’s wife, my lady, and you’re to receive heavy chastisement for the sins against your lord husband!”

  Tristram halted the priest with a gesture.

  “Cousin, we have decided it is upon me, and not upon the Church, to chastise my wife.”

  Wife. So she was still married to Tristram, although she’d been certain the annulment had been granted. But Judith was too distraught to care about what they were talking. It did not truly matter if she was still De Brunne’s wife. She had already expected her fate would be dire, yet she had surrendered the castle so her people would be safe.

  “The men and the women here, they surrendered freely. And they are not to be harmed!” she uttered, fighting hard to keep her voice from trembling.

  “No one will harm them,” Tristram replied tersely, beckoning his soldiers.

  The way things unfolded then took place in a daze, as Judith watched the men who’d prepared to besiege her home make themselves masters of it. Yet, true to Lord Tristram’s word, his soldiers behaved peacefully, as Sir Roderick and her own people met them with no opposition. Judith watched upon all this with relief, not caring what her own fate would be, and hoping her mother was still safely in the chambers where she’d closeted herself.

  “Where is the lady Fenice?” Tristram asked, as if in echo of her thoughts, after his squires had helped him out of his hauberk.

  “Please, do not harm my mother!” Judith pleaded, casting anguished glances at the grim priest and at the other man, a tall, broad-shouldered lord with brown hair about Tristram’s own age.

  The priest gave her a look of sheer disdain, and wanted to speak, but Tristram silenced him.

  “She’s ailing,” Judith added, knowing she was not stating the full truth, however clinging to the hope her mother would escape the besiegers’ wrath.

  The priest scoffed, yet the other lord, whom Tristram had earlier addressed as FitzRolf, said with a gracious bow of his head. “No honourable knight would harm an ailing woman. Besides, my lady, it is only you who has betrayed your allegiance to your husband. Lady Fenice is guilty only of standing against King Henry. And Henry has decided to show himself magnanimous to his foes, even if they erred against him. It is known to him that your mother is already ailing, so the lady shall be forgiven for her deeds.”

  Judith nodded in sheer relief. Her mother and her people were then safe. As for her own fate… She looked upon Tristram’s hard, handsome face, and at once knew he would not be inclined to show her any mercy.

  They were now in the inner bailey, and many eyes were upon them, when the priest spoke in a thundering voice for everyone to hear, “You’ve disobeyed your wedding vows! You have betrayed your husband!”

  Tristram swiftly cut off the rest of the words the priest had meant to say, “‘Tis best I deal with it. Here and now,” he uttered grimly.

  Judith had no time to understand what he meant by it. With widened eyes, she watched him beckon a squire and hand him the sword he’d refastened earlier on his hip after he’d shed his hauberk. With widened eyes still, she watched him as he calmly unbuckled his sword belt to the approving exclamations of his men. It took a while to understand why the men had begun to clamour in approval. She was still stunned when she felt Tristram’s strong hand grab her by the arm. And then she shouted in more outrage than pain when Tristram’s sword belt landed upon her bottom with a loud crack, although the outrage soon melted, overshadowed by the unexpected sting of the belt which began to fall upon her bottom again, and then again. And again. Judith tried to run away from the sheer sting of the belt, but her captor had a strong hold of her arm, as he was dragging her towards one of the wooden benches in the inner bailey. The belt kept landing with unfailing precision upon her behind and thighs, which soon began to burn as if stung by angry bees.

  “Wait! I–” Judith tried to speak, but her punisher didn’t heed any of her words.

  The doubled sword belt he held in his hand was still busy sizzling her behind, and when they reached the bench, Judith was already feeling scalding tears of pain falling upon her cheeks. She’d never been given to easy tears, yet she couldn’t help but succumb to them. Tristram forcefully dragged her across his lap, after seating himself on the bench, and Judith gritted her teeth to prevent herself from starting to sob. She tried to brace herself against the infernal sting of the accursed belt which she was certain would now land even more harshly upon her, and she vowed to herself she would be valiant until it was all over. However she’d not expected the sheer humiliation which followed. Her captor hoisted her skirts to expose her bare bottom to the approving cheers of the soldiers who were rejoicing in the punishment.

  “Wait!” Judith found herself wailing, as she blushed in sheer mortification at the thought that not only Tristram’s men, but her own people could now see her bare bottom and thighs which the belt must have already striped with angry red.

  Soon she forgot to even feel humiliated as the doubled belt landed across her bare behind with a mightily loud crack. It hurt ten thousand times more to feel the belt upon her bare skin, and Judith no longer cared to hold back her tears. She cried. And then, when the belt cruelly caught the sensitive part of her sit spots, again and again, she simply started sobbing. As the accursed belt did its work, her whole bottom and upper thighs began to feel as if a blazing fire was burning there.

  She was now weeping so hard, she only belatedly understood the demon who’d delivered her punishment had stopped at last, resting a battle-calloused hand on her scorched behind. Strangely, she felt a fire not only inside her bottom, but an unbearable heat inside her sex when he deigned to
speak, in a hard, dispassionate voice, “Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson, wife?”

  When she didn’t swiftly answer, the accursed belt landed across the spot where her bottom met her thighs, and she could do nothing but sob, “Aye, husband!”

  Blissfully, the demon seemed satisfied with her answer, but Judith’s knees felt far too weak as he let her off his lap, after he’d straightened her skirts. He had to stand up and help support her, as she painfully tried to keep her balance. She’d never been spanked in her life, but now she understood why some of her childhood friends had feared their parents’ punishment so much. The sting in her bottom was simply infernal, and she had to bite her lip hard, nearly tasting blood, in order to prevent herself from hopping from one foot to another. Instead, she just shifted her weight, trying to alleviate the sheer sting she now felt. The belting had mercifully stopped, yet she could still feel the fierce fire of it across her skin.

  The jeers and laughter from Tristram’s men stung nearly as much as her bottom, and through the haze of her tears, she could now perceive that even some of her own people had started smirking somewhat, callously finding amusement in her misery.

  “‘Tis done,” Tristram tossed out, letting go of her arm, as it was obvious she could at last stand up by herself.

  “Mild punishment,” the priest scoffed, and Judith nearly shook her head in incredulity.

  Mild? It didn’t feel at all like mild punishment to her. In truth, she’d never felt as wretched in her life. Uncaring her gesture was unladylike, she simply wiped her teary face with the sleeve of her gown. She glowered at the demon who’d punished her, who, she noted, looked, as usual, nothing like a demon, but rather like an angel, with hair the colour of dark honey and long-lashed, brooding eyes. She felt disgusted with herself for noting his beauty at this very time. Her mother had been right then. Tristram de Brunne was indeed a fiend in spite of his angelic appearance.