The Splendid Hour by Kathryn Le Veque

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

He kept looking at her.

Liora knew that Gideon was trying to get her attention, to make eye contact with her, but she wouldn’t look at him. She didn’t even want to be here, but her father had coerced her into eating supper with a guest she didn’t want to be around. She’d agreed to do it based on a bargain, but they hadn’t even gone to Westminster that afternoon as her father had intended. He’d found something in the golden belt he didn’t like, so he’d taken the time to fix it, which meant they’d go tomorrow.

Maybe.

So, Liora had been tricked into having supper with Gideon. It wasn’t that he was a terrible man. In fact, he was pleasant enough, kind and accommodating, but he was as bland as water. He was older than she was, having inherited the horse business from his father, but he was very wealthy, with a fine house on King Street. He lived with his mother and grandfather and had made no secret for years that he wanted a wife in Liora ben Thad. Haim wouldn’t entertain the suggestion until Liora came of age and even then, he’d waited two full years before he finally allowed Gideon to move past the initial interest phase.

Now, Gideon was a welcome guest in their home.

Liora sat across the table from him, between her mother and grandmother, while Asa sat next to Gideon and stuck his tongue out at the man every time he looked at him. That made Gideon a little uncomfortable, so Asa was excused towards the end of the meal because he was finished and couldn’t seem to stop making faces at Gideon. Haim tried to make it seem as if his son were simply lively and full of fun, but Liora knew it was because Asa didn’t like Gideon in the least.

It was all she could do to keep from bursting out laughing.

Usually, no one was allowed to leave the table until the last of the meal was finished, so Asa’s early departure should have been a harbinger of things to come for Liora. Once Asa was gone, her mother and grandmother departed in quick succession, leaving Haim sitting at the head of the table with his daughter on one side and her hopeful suitor on the other. He poured himself and Gideon more wine but left Liora’s glass empty.

“I must speak to you both tonight,” Haim said, looking at Gideon. “You know that I have not been willing to let my daughter leave my household, Gideon. You have tried for at least four years to gain my permission, but I have resisted. I wanted to let you know that tonight, I resist no longer.”

As Gideon grinned, Liora looked at her father in horror. “What?” she cried. “Papa, please do not say anything more. We have not even discussed this!”

Haim looked at her then. “I am sorry, zeeskeit,” he said gently. “I know we did not, but it is time. If I told you of my plans today, you would have never come to sup with Gideon.”

Liora’s mouth popped open. “You… you deceived me?”

Haim merely shrugged. “I believe that Gideon will make a fine husband for you,” he said. “You will have your own home and children. Is that not what you want?”

Gideon was beaming from ear to ear, so very pleased to hear that he had Haim’s approval, but Liora was out of her chair.

“I will not have this conversation with you,” she said to her father, angrily. But her focus shifted to Gideon. “This is nothing against you, I assure you. I simply have no desire to marry at the moment and my father does not have my permission to agree to anything.”

Gideon’s smile faded as he realized Liora was opposed to his suit. “I… I am sorry,” he said, genuinely confused. “I thought it was known that I… everyone expects that we will marry. My mother is most anxious to have you as a daughter.”

He sounded weak and pleading, with a high-pitched voice that grated on her. All she could think of at that moment was of Peter’s deep, honeyed voice, something that sent shivers up her spine.

She wanted a man who sent shivers up her spine.

She’d never realized that more than at this moment. Until Peter de Lohr came into her life, perhaps she would have been accepting of Gideon’s suit, eventually. It wasn’t as if she had a myriad of attractive prospects. She had merchants and grocers and goldsmiths. That was her world and she accepted that. She’d never known anything differently.

But then came Peter.

He represented something new and exciting, power and passion, bringing forth thoughts and feelings in her that she’d never had before. While her world was rich with beauty and culture and tradition, Peter’s appearance hinted at something more out there for her. Something different but just as rich. Perhaps it was wrong of her to think of such things, but she couldn’t help it. She was young, beautiful, and vital – and so was her handsome golden knight, Peter.

And then, there was Gideon.

It wasn’t his fault. He had been born into the same traditions that she had been. He was a wealthy horse trader. She was the daughter of a jeweler. There was nothing wrong with either of those things provided the people entrenched in them were happy.

Liora knew, increasingly, that she was most definitely not happy.

“I am sorry, Gideon,” she said quietly. “You shall have to find your wife elsewhere because it will not be me.”

With that, she bolted from the table, hearing her father call after her but unwilling to answer. She was angry and confused, agitated and overwhelmed. It would have been easy to blame Peter for her condition but, truth be told, it wouldn’t have been the first time she had longed for a life outside of the world she knew. Every time she saw beautiful women with their handsome lords purchase jewelry from her father, she envied them. She had always envied them.

Now, she had a chance for a handsome lord of her own, an earl’s son no less. But was she surrendering all that she was, her entire heritage, to dream about it?

Her bedchamber was a large one, spanning one entire side of the house with the big windows that overlooked the alley and the kitchen yard in part. She entered her chamber and shut the door, bolting it so her father or angry mother couldn’t get in. She knew her mother was going to be furious about shunning Gideon, but she didn’t care. Jewish girls, just like Christian girls, were raised to listen to their mothers and fathers and to do their bidding. Obedience was smiled upon by God. Liora’s mother and father had always given her a great deal of freedom, which would work against them in this case. She wasn’t going to marry Gideon no matter how much they demanded it.

She wasn’t going to give in.

She lit a taper at the end of her bed, sitting on a table where her sewing was neatly piled. Liora had a knack for embroidery and there were neatly draped veils on the table, one of which was only partially embroidered around the edges. Sitting down, she picked up the veil and resumed her sewing. She found that she could think better when her hands were occupied, as it seemed to ease her mind, which so often would run amok if she let it. She had a busy intellect, something Peter had seen a glimpse of, but sometimes she simply had to sit still and focus on something repetitive – like sewing. It helped clear her mind.

A mind that desperately need clearing tonight.

Silently, she stitched by candlelight, thinking of Peter, thinking of their brief encounters and feeling warm and giddy every time she thought of those intense eyes looking at her. At one point, her father came to the door and knocked softly, begging her to open it, but she chased him away by telling him that she was in bed. He went away only for her mother to come and bang on the door, demanding she open it.

Liora told her that she would see her in the morning.

And on it went for at least an hour. She heard her parents arguing downstairs and then a door slam as her mother went to bed. At one point, she caught a glimpse of shadows down in the alleyway, knowing it was probably Asa playing games with his friends. When all young boys should be in bed, Asa would rather run around with his friends, playing in the dark, until Haim would go outside and yell at him to come to bed. At least, she thought it was Asa until she caught sight of a horse. Startled, she sat up and peered out the window, only to realize that it was Peter’s horse.

Peter had made an appearance.

Quickly, she opened the window.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed. “I told you not to come tonight!”

The moon glistened off of Peter’s light hair in the darkness. “I know,” he said. “And I am sorry, but I must speak with you.”

“But… I cannot, not tonight.”

“It is important, Liora. Please.”

Something in his tone made her heart leap. Puzzled, and the least bit concerned, she shut the window and made her way to the chamber door. Quietly unlocking it, she stuck her head out into the landing to see where her parents were. Her grandmother wasn’t a problem, but her parents would be. Sometimes, they prowled the corridors. However, she didn’t see them nor did she hear them.

Quietly, she slipped from her chamber and shut the door behind her.

With great stealth, Liora made it down the stairs and through the kitchen, emerging into the kitchen yard beyond. She went to the gate and opened it up, only to see that Peter was standing right next to it. Gazing into his handsome face, she realized how glad she was to see him. Something about him gave her a sense of comfort, of joy.

But his appearance here was not welcome this night.

“What is it?” she whispered. “My mother and father are very angry with me right now and they would be furious if they saw you here. What do you want?”

Peter reached out to gently touch her hand, brushing his flesh against hers in a move that made her tremble so badly that she nearly lost her balance.

“I am sorry,” he murmured. “But I spoke with the rabbi today. I must tell you what he said.”

Liora’s gaze lingered on him, already knowing it was terrible news. He didn’t even have to tell her. It softened her edgy manner, now fighting off disappointment and melancholy when she realized this golden dream would be over before it truly began. But she did want to hear what he had to say.

Even if it was only goodbye.

“Tether the horse out here,” she said quietly. “He will be safe.”

Peter did as he was told, knowing his horse wouldn’t go with anyone but him, so he wasn’t concerned with leaving it in the alley for a quick getaway. With the horse tied off, Liora grasped his hand and held it tightly as she led him through the yard and into their small stables that smelled strongly of dried grass and goats. In fact, there were several of the little animals corralled up at one end. It was dark, but for a small ventilation window to let in air and light, as she took him over to a pile of hay and sat down.

Peter sat down next to her.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other until Peter lifted his hands and gently cupped her face. Leaning forward, he slanted his lips over hers in a completely unexpected move, a kiss of such power and such passion that Liora couldn’t even fight him off. Not that she wanted to, but propriety dictated that she at least force him to behave.

But she couldn’t.

It was a kiss like she’d never been kissed in her life. When he finally pulled away, she felt lightheaded. It took her a minute to catch her breath.

“Is… is that what you wanted to tell me?” she whispered.

Peter grinned, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “Nay,” he said. “But I simply couldn’t help myself. Are you angry?”

Liora shook her head. “Nay.”

He took that as an invitation and his lips clamped on to her soft mouth again, kissing her deeply as he pulled her into his arms. The heat from a thousand suns couldn’t match the fire she felt when he had her in his arms, her supple body against him, his lips on hers. Her firm, round breasts were pressed against his chest and although he hadn’t moved to grope anything, she could feel his fingers on her torso, caressing her. It was wicked and wanton of her, but she wondered what it would feel like for him to touch her body. The more he kissed her, the more heat she felt all over and the more her heart raced.

The man had a touch like lightning.

“Forgive me,” he said, pulling away and allowing her to breathe. “I wondered what it would be like to take you in my arms and now I know.”

Dazed, she licked her lips. “What is it like?”

His answer was to kiss her a third time, hard, his tongue invading the sweet recesses of her mouth as he pushed her back onto the pile of hay. He was taking charge and Liora was letting him. Everything about the man had her in a fog where she could hardly think and only feel. She felt everything he was doing to her, even when his mouth left hers and began to wander. His left hand was wandering, too, entwined in her hair as he kissed her chin, her neck, her shoulder, before moving down her torso and gently caressing her belly. She could feel his heated palm through the fabric of her gown, and she felt his hand as it moved up her belly to the valley between her breasts. It moved up further and gently grabbed her around the neck as he suckled the flesh of her collarbone. The more he suckled, the tighter his grip on her neck as he turned her head to the side and began to kiss the swell of her breasts.

It was heaven.

But it was also growing increasingly passionate. Liora didn’t know enough to stop him. She was loving everything he was doing, every kiss, every touch, letting him do whatever he wished. She had her arms around his head, holding him against her when he pulled back the neckline of her dress to expose one of those full, beautiful breasts. When the neckline didn’t give enough, he yanked on it, tearing it. Liora started to come out of her stupor at the sound of a torn garment until he pulled it down enough to expose her left breast. When his seeking mouth descended on a taut nipple, she was lost.

A gasp escaped her lips as he suckled hard enough to bring pinpricks of painful delight. But it only went on for a few seconds before he suddenly pulled away, quickly pulling her bodice up to cover her luscious breasts.

“Oh, God,” he breathed. “Forgive me, Liora, please. I wasn’t thinking… Christ, everything about you consumes me and I am so sorry… but it was just so natural.”

Her head came up, looking at him in the darkness. “You are sorry that you touched me then?”

He could see her, barely, but he shook his head. “Nay,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her firmly, suckling her lower lip before releasing it. “I did not mean it that way. I will never be sorry for touching you. I meant that I should not have taken such liberties. My only excuse is that the moment I touched you, I lost myself. You consume my senses as I’ve never been consumed before.”

Liora smiled faintly at him, reaching down to pull her bodice up to a modest level, noting the tear was only in the seam at her shoulder. “You did not take any liberties that I did not allow you to take,” she whispered. “In case you’ve not yet realized it, I rather lost myself, too.”

He smiled timidly. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Then… then you are feeling the same thing I am?”

“What are you feeling?”

His gaze glittered at her in the darkness. “Things that men speak of but seldom experience,” he said. “Attraction and passion towards a woman that blinds him to all else. A pull towards her that is difficult to describe, knowing you’d do anything in the world for her and do it gladly. Hoping for a glimpse of her smile, the sound of her voice, and realizing that it is food for your soul. Those things.”

She reached up, gently stroking his face. “Then it is the same thing,” she said. “It is remarkable that we should have such feelings after having known each other a short time.”

“That tells me this is far more than an infatuation, Liora,” he murmured. “Sometimes, two people are just meant to be together. There’s no logic or reason to it, but it happens. It is meant to happen. What we feel… it is real.”

She pulled his mouth down to hers, kissing him tenderly. “It is very real,” she whispered. “But we cannot ignore the truth of our situation. Tell me what the rabbi said.”

It was a statement that dampened the mood, but it was the entire reason he’d come. He sat up, pulling her up alongside him. He could see hay sticking out of her hair in the dim light and he began picking it out.

“I spoke to Rabbi Judah,” he said, plucking hay from the top of her head. “I rather like him. He was quite surprising.”

Liora smiled at him as she shook out her hair. “I knew him when he was much younger,” she said. “We have grown up together, Judah and I. His father is a rabbi, too.”

“Like father, like son.”

“Exactly,” she said, picking chaff from the bodice of her dress now. “What did he tell you?”

Peter took the last visible piece of hay from her hair. “I am sure it is no great shock,” he said. “The gist of the situation is that my church will not recognize a marriage if you do not convert and your church will not recognize a marriage if I do not convert. We must be all Christian or all Jewish for our marriage to be valid. For us to have any chance of survival.”

She finished brushing herself off and looked at him. “Nay, it is no great shock to hear that,” she said. “I suppose I knew that from the start.”

He put his arms on his bent-up knees, brushing at his boots. “So I sit here with you, speaking on marriage and brushing at my boots simply for something to do with my hands,” he said. “All I want to do right now is pull you back into my arms. I feel strangely alone right now even though you are sitting right next to me.”

Liora looked at him in the weak light, reaching up to brush some hay from his right shoulder. “That is a sudden change in subject.”

“Nay, it is not. When speaking of you as the subject, it is never strange where my mind is.”

She smiled at him, reaching out to take one of his big, scarred hands. She held it tightly. “We have only known each other for a few days,” she reminded him softly. “If any of my friends had told me that they were mad about a man after only knowing him for a few days, I would tell her that she was daft and lock her up for her own protection. But here I am, sitting with you, speaking of marriage after only a few days. In truth, in our culture, betrothals are often made between people who do not know one another. They will meet only two or three times at most before their families are celebrating a betrothal.”

“That can happen in my religion, as well,” he said. “Marriages are not made with love in mind, but money or property, or both. I’ve known men to wed women they’ve never even met once.”

“It does happen,” she agreed. “So, you see, it is not really strange at all that we are speaking of this so quickly. At least, not in my experience.”

His gaze grew intense. “You do want to marry me, don’t you?” he said softly. “I am not pressing my suit when you are uncertain, am I?”

She shook her head. “I knew the moment I first spoke to you that you were someone special,” she said. “Tonight, my father gave Gideon permission to marry me and all I could think of was you.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “What does that mean for us then?”

“I will not marry Gideon.”

“Will you marry me?”

She squeezed his hand. “I very much want to,” she whispered. “Peter, I know nothing of your life. I do not know your family, your friends, the way you conduct yourself, but I have seen you with Asa and how gentle and kind you are with him. Even though I know little else about you, the way you behave with my brother tells me everything I need to know. You are a man of patience, of a good family, of good character. You look at me and my world is happy and bright. I want the chance to know you better, to see what a fine man you are, but we have a definite problem.”

He lifted her hand, kissing it sweetly. “We do,” he said. “More than you know. I spoke with my father today about you and told him what Rabbi Judah said.”

She moved a little closer to him. “Then you told him?”

Peter nodded. “My father and I are close,” he said. “There isn’t anything I do not talk over with him, including this.”

“And what did he say?”

Peter pulled her closer, into the curve of his torso. He simply couldn’t keep his arms away from her. “He feels I am being impulsive and reckless,” he said. “Even if you were not a Jewish lass, he would still think the same thing. But because our religions do not mingle, he is quite… skeptical.”

“What does that mean?”

Peter sighed faintly, his chin on the top of her head. “You must understand that my father has no issue with Jews,” he said. “He spent years in The Levant and his relationship with the Jews was an amicable one, so do not think he takes issue with your religion.”

“Then what?”

“He is honest and practical,” he said. “He asked me who had the most to lose in a situation like this – me or you. If I convert to Judaism to marry you, then I lose everything. I lose my title, my knighthood, any position of power I might have. He wants me to understand that it would cost me dearly.”

She sat up and looked at him. “How could you even consider such a thing?”

He frowned. “Look at the reward, Liora,” he said, cupping her cheek. “You. You would be the reward. That is how I can consider it.”

She gazed at him in the darkness. “You would consider giving up everything for a woman you do not know?”

“I am coming to know her and I like her.”

Slowly, she shook her head. “Then nothing Rabbi Judah said discouraged you?”

“Does it discourage you?”

Liora wasn’t sure how to answer. So very much was at stake. She pulled away from him and stood up.

“Your father is right,” she said. “If you think to convert, it will cost you everything. And there is no guarantee my father will even allow us to marry, although he always does what I want him to do. If I want to marry you, it would be with misgivings that he would let me because you are not a born Jew. You would be a convert. My father is trying to marry me to Gideon because he comes from a very old, very prestigious family. That means something to my father, as I am sure a fine wife from a good family would mean something to yours.”

Peter stood up because she was, brushing the hay off his breeches. “That is what every parent hopes for his child,” he said. “And since you bring it up, there is something else you should know. I am my father’s bastard, the result between him and the daughter of an earl. He never married her and when she died, I came to live with him and his wife. I will not inherit the earldom, which I suppose gives me a little more freedom to marry whom I choose.”

Liora didn’t seem particularly concerned with the fact that his parents had not been married. “Mayhap it does, but you still do not want to give up everything when you marry,” she said. “I remember when we walked in the meadow and you told me that your father had given you command of Ludlow Castle. You said it would make you a very wealthy man. You were proud to tell me, Peter, I know you were. I could see it in your face.”

He averted his gaze, pretending to brush at nonexistent hay on his thigh. “Of course I was proud,” he said. “It is one of the largest castles on the Marches, much coveted.”

He was looking at his feet and she went to him, putting her hand on his chin and forcing him to look at her. “And you were given that appointment from your father because you are an elite knight,” she said softly. “You have worked very hard for what you have and it would be a waste of all of those years to throw it all away for a marriage. Do you think that would make me happy knowing that you gave it all up for me? Peter, your intention is as sweet and endearing as you can imagine and I am deeply touched, but I cannot and will not let you do it. Giving up your knighthood is out of the question.”

He was hypnotized by those pale eyes, that gorgeous face with those ripe lips he’d so recently kissed. “But I want to marry you,” he whispered seriously. “I would never ask you to give up your life for me. That would be selfish and wrong to expect you to do it.”

She smiled, pressed against him, and his arms went around her yet again. Liora’s hands were on his face, looking into those strong, handsome features.

“And that tells me even more about your character that you would not make such demands,” she said. “Rather than see me give up everything I know, you are willing to do it instead. That speaks of your honor, Peter. You are very honorable.”

“Maybe so, but if I do not give up my world, we cannot be married.”

“We can if I give up mine.”

He studied her to see if she was serious. After a moment, he sighed faintly. “My father said that if you did that, I would be thrusting you into a world you knew nothing about and eventually, you would grow to resent me,” he said. “I could not live with that, Liora. Your happiness would mean everything to me.”

She nodded. “I know,” she said. “I already know you would make it your life’s work to ensure my happiness, but I am telling you that out of the two of us, it makes the most sense that I should become a Christian. I know you will teach me all I need to know so that I would make a fine wife for Lord Pembridge.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “Is that what you would want?” he asked. “Truly, Liora – think hard on it. Is that what you would honestly want? What about your heritage and your culture? Do you truly think you could leave that all behind?”

“Would I really have to?”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “I mean that we all worship one God, Peter,” she said. “If I worship God as a Jew or as a Christian, I am still worshipping God, am I not?”

“I don’t understand.”

She patted him on the cheek. “I can still become a Christian and worship at your side,” she said. “But in the privacy of our home, would you allow me to observe the Jewish rights? Would you still allow me to say my prayers in Hebrew because it would please my ancestors? Our children would be raised as Christians, but I would still like to teach them where their mother came from.”

Peter studied her face as she spoke, trying to determine if she was serious or if she was just telling him what he wanted to hear in an impulsive move. But he couldn’t imagine there was any other motive than pure honesty, as she had never given him any reason to think otherwise. And her suggestion wasn’t a terrible one. In fact, it gave him hope.

Great hope that this might work out, after all.

“I would permit you to do what you wished,” he said. “If it makes you happy, you have my permission.”

She grinned at him, her eyes twinkling, when they both heard a door creak and then slam on its hinges. Liora jumped away from him, moving over to the other side of the stable, when a figure abruptly appeared in the stable entry.

Peter and Liora found themselves looking at Haim.

And someone else.

Christopher was standing behind him.

“Papa?” Peter said in disbelief when he realized his father had made an appearance. “How on earth did you find me?”

Christopher came to stand next to Haim. “It was not difficult,” he said. “You left your horse tied out in the open. I could see him as I came up Milk Street.”

Peter came towards his father, eyeing the man in the moonlight. “You followed me?”

“I followed you.”

Peter sighed sharply, realizing his father knew of his intentions back at Lonsdale. He’d already escaped once to see Liora and Christopher, rightly so, had guessed that he would try and see her again before departing for Ludlow in the morning. Peter’s gaze moved to Haim, who was looking at him somewhat curiously. He shrugged helplessly.

“This is not how I hoped to be introduced to you, my lord,” he said, eyeing her father. “I assume my father told you everything?”

Haim shook his head. “He told me nothing except that you were somewhere on my property,” he said. “But, clearly, you should tell me everything. I find you alone with my daughter in the stable?”

“It was my idea, Father,” Liora said, coming out of the shadows and looking at Christopher. She bobbed a brief curtsy. “My lord, I am Liora, daughter of Haim. This is not how I hoped to be introduced to you, either.”

Christopher’s gaze moved over the petite, raven-haired beauty who had his son behaving so irrationally. Within the first few seconds of seeing her, he could understand why Peter was so enamored with her. She was positively exquisite.

“Demoiselle,” he greeted her. “It seems there are some odd introductions all around, but I am pleased to finally meet you. Peter has spoken highly of you.”

She smiled weakly. “Thank you,” she said. Then, she looked to her father. “Papa, I am sorry I became angry with you tonight. I did not mean to be rude, but… but there is a good deal on my mind.”

Haim’s gaze moved to Peter. “I can see that,” he said. “Would you like to tell me what is happening, young de Lohr? Why do I find you here with my daughter?”

Peter cleared his throat softly, glancing at his father, seeing the man’s expression. Usually, his father was stone-faced, but in this case, he wasn’t. He looked uncertain yet encouraging. It was an odd combination and one that didn’t give Peter a lot of confidence, but he cleared his throat softly yet again and proceeded.

“My lord, you know me as Christopher de Lohr’s son,” he said, improperly addressing Haim but wanting to show respect the way he knew how. “My father stands for truth and honor and I hope to stand for the same. I will therefore be completely honest with you because today when we met, I was not honest at all. I told you that I had come to purchase a gift for my father when, in truth, I had come to see your daughter. I had met her the day before when she so kindly provided me with a hiding place until the danger passed. It was quite by accident, of course, but she was very kind to me.”

Haim, fortunately, wasn’t the irate type. That was simply his temperament. He nodded to Peter’s confession.

“Eh,” he said as if it were nothing to be worried over. “I am glad my daughter was of service to you. The Talmud dictates that we always be kind to strangers.”

Peter had expected much more of a reaction. Haim’s lack of outrage to his admission bolstered his courage.

“I have spoken to your daughter several times since we first met,” he said. “She is kind and empathetic, witty and wise, and she is unlike any woman I have ever met before. Please do not think I was sneaking around behind your back and trying to seduce your daughter, because I was not. I have simply found a woman that consumes all of my attention and I have never felt that way before, not ever. There is something so fresh and honest about her, and in the world my father and I live in, finding a woman like that is rare. Liora a very rare jewel.”

Haim smiled pleasantly. “She is,” he said. “I see that you are trying to explain something to me, but let me explain something to you first. When my daughter started asking questions about your father yesterday, I thought it strange, but now I know why. She asked if knights always marry Christian women and I told her they did, but she wanted to know if I knew any who had married outside of their faith.”

Peter looked at Liora, who shrugged apologetically. Now he wasn’t so confident because he suspected Haim knew exactly where he was heading.

“I went to speak to Rabbi Judah today,” Peter said. “I asked him about interfaith marriages. He told me what I already suspected – that the Jewish faith only recognizes Jewish marriages, and the Catholic Church only recognizes Christian marriages. There is no such thing as a Christian husband and a Jewish wife. I asked him this because I wish to marry your daughter, my lord, but I wanted all of the information I could gather before approaching you. I did not want to appear ignorant and I wanted to be respectful of your faith.”

Haim simply nodded as if he’d known this was coming all along, which of course, he did. He looked to Christopher.

“You knew of this, my lord?” he asked.

Christopher nodded, though he was apologetic in manner. “I did,” he said. “My son and I have had a couple of serious conversations about it. He understands that in order for a marriage to take place, one of them will have to convert to the other’s religion. Either Peter becomes Jewish or Liora becomes a Christian.”

“Do you believe he is sincere?”

Christopher looked to his son, looking back at him with such naked emotion in his eyes that Christopher could feel the physical impact. He knew what it was to want something so badly yet be so fearful that it would never come to fruition. In fact, as he looked at Peter, he remembered Peter’s mother, Amanda, looking at him in the very same fashion. Peter had her eyes, so looking at Peter was a stark reminder of Amanda from those years ago. Sweet, docile Amanda who would never get what she wanted – marriage to Christopher.

Now, Peter was facing the very same thing. A marriage he could not have.

The irony was not lost on Christopher.

“I do,” he finally said. “Haim, you do not know my son, but I can tell you that he is a good man. There is no finer man in all of England and if he wants to marry your daughter, then he is sincere. He is a grown man and can make his own choices, and he will do what it takes to ensure that those choices are best for him and best for your daughter. He knows that he is facing a battle, perhaps the most emotional battle he has ever endured, so do not think he is ignorant about this. But as I pointed out to him, should he choose to convert to Judaism, he will lose everything he has ever worked for – his knighthood, his status, his income. No offense to your daughter, but Peter has much more to lose than she does. This is a much bigger situation for him than it is for her and he is aware of my feelings about it.”

Haim was listening to him intently. “And what are your feelings?”

Christopher found himself looking at Peter again, seeing that vulnerability, hearing those words Peter had spoken to him earlier – all my life, I have had the bastard stigma follow me and now that I see happiness within my grasp, to have someone who will belong only to me… to know that cannot happen unless something drastic happens is disheartening.

The truth was that Christopher wanted to make his son happy. Even if they weren’t choices Christopher would make in order to achieve that happiness, that didn’t mean he would disown his son for them. He would stand by him, just as he did now, and he would have to learn to live with those decisions, too.

It didn’t make him love his son any less.

In fact, it made him love Peter more.

“He has my blessing whatever he chooses to do,” he said hoarsely. “I cannot live his life for him, but I will be by his side no matter what he decides.”

Haim was touched by the beautiful devotion, knowing how difficult it must have been for a powerful earl to let his son’s decisions be ruled by the heart and not the head. He had only met Christopher once before, years ago, and he didn’t know him, but he knew the man’s reputation. There was no man more respected in England.

Now, Haim could see why.

“You are a good man, my lord,” he said to Christopher. “To allow your son to be something other than what you expect him to be is the mark of a good father. You are to be commended. But I, too, must be a father to my daughter, who may not have as much to lose as your son over this, but she will lose enough. She will lose the respect of her family, of her friends, of those she worships with. She will become an apostate, one who rejects her own religion. One who has forsaken everything she knows and loves. Her mother will not see her, nor will her grandmother, nor will I. She will have made her choice and rejected her family.”

“That is not true.” Liora could no longer remain silent. “Why must you make this sound as if I am willingly and happily leaving the family I love, as if I care nothing about you?”

Haim had such a gentle way about him as he smiled at his daughter in the midst of a deeply serious topic. “Because you would have chosen your own happiness over your family,” he said simply. “You will cast us aside in favor of your new family, a family of great knights and great wars. It will be a new life for you, one you have never known. Gone will be the days of peace on Milk Street, zeeskeit. You are heading into the lion’s den.”

Liora was close to tears, trying desperately not to weep. “But I do not want to leave you and Mama behind,” she insisted. “You are still my family.”

Haim shook his head. “We cannot be,” he said. “If we support you in this choice, then it will be as if we have made the choice, too. We can no longer worship in the synagogue. Our friends will not speak with us. We will be exiled, so we, too, must make a choice. I love you very much, zeeskeit, but I have your brother to think about. Asa is part of our world and he must be allowed to live in it, to have a family in it, without being damaged by your choices. If you do this thing, you are asking me to choose between you and Asa, and I must choose my son.”

Liora closed her eyes and hung her head as the tears streamed down her face and dripped off her chin. Peter watched her with great sorrow. He didn’t want to see her lose her entire family because of him. His father had tried to tell him that. He’d tried to tell him that removing her from everything she knew and loved would cause her agony and resentment, and he was right. Already, Peter could see the agony on her face as her father spoke of essentially disowning her for converting to another religion.

It cut him to the bone.

“May I speak to Liora alone, please?” he asked Haim. “Just a brief moment, please.”

Haim, as amiable as ever, nodded his head and headed towards the house. Christopher, his gaze lingering on his son and the distraught young lady, followed. When the fathers were over by the kitchen door, Peter grasped Liora gently by the arm and pulled her just inside the stable, just enough so they had a little privacy.

He faced her in the darkness.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “This isn’t what I wanted for you. I hope you know that.”

Liora was sobbing softly. She nodded, wiping at her face. “I know,” she said. “I know you would never wish that upon me. Truthfully, it never occurred to me that my father would do that. But he is right, Peter – so very right.”

Peter knew that and his heart was breaking for them both. He could see this ending tonight, but he wasn’t willing to let it go. He just couldn’t. Liora was coming to mean too much to him to so easily walk away. Grasping her by both arms, he forced her to look at him.

“Listen to me,” he murmured. “I want you to listen to me carefully. Can you do this?”

She nodded, still wiping at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Of course.”

He dipped his head down, his face close to hers. “My father is sending me to Ludlow Castle on the morrow,” he said. “I have much that I must do for him in securing the property, and others, but it will give us both time to think very carefully about all of this. No matter what happens, I will return for you. I will not forget about you, I will not stay away any longer than necessary. I will be back. Do you believe me?”

She nodded, looking at him with sad eyes. “I do,” she said. “But what will you return to? The same situation. It will not change.”

“Nay, it will not change, but mayhap I will be able to think of a solution,” he said. “There has to be a solution, Liora. I refuse to stop trying.”

She believed him implicitly. “But I want you to listen to me, now. I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes, and when you return and no solution is reached, know that I will become a Christian and I will marry you. As my father said, he has to make a choice. So do I. I would rather live the rest of my life as your Christian wife than live the rest of my life as a Jewish spinster. When I look at you, it is like looking at the door to my future and all of the wondrous things it will be. I must think of my happiness, Peter, as much as my father’s words pain me.”

He smiled faintly. “I am willing to convert. I want to be plain.”

She shook her head before the words were even out of his mouth. “Nay,” she said firmly. “That is out of the question. Your father is correct – you have far more to lose than I do, but the mere fact that you are willing to do it touches me more than you can know. You’re willing to give everything up for me and I love you for it, but I will not let you do it.”

He stared at her. “You… you love me?”

She smiled weakly when she realized what she had said. “I love that you are so willing to surrender everything because of me,” she said. “I am sure my whole and true-hearted love for you, for everything you are, is not far behind.”

His back was to the fathers at the kitchen door, blocking their view, so he dared to kiss her swiftly on the lips. “I have never given my heart to anyone before,” he whispered. “Take good care of it while I am away. It is the most precious thing I have to give you.”

Liora smiled at him, her tears drying up as she realized this wasn’t the end. Peter was going, but he would be back. It would do them good to spend time away from one another, he focused on his duties and she focused on her father and family, seeing if she could change her father’s mind because she knew one thing – she wasn’t going to give up her Christian knight, the archangel who had appeared in her yard those days ago.

He’d appeared for a reason.

To change her world.

“Then I shall see you upon your return, my angel,” she murmured. “I will be here, waiting for you.”

He smiled at her and let go of her arms. “I’ll send you word if I can,” he said. “I do not know how busy I shall be or what conditions I’ll be facing, but I’ll try to send you word. Just… don’t forget about me.”

“Never.”

With that, he nodded encouragingly to her and, together, they came out of the stable and headed to where their fathers were standing. Christopher came over to Peter, taking him by the arm and directing him back towards the alley where his horse was tethered while Haim reached out and took Liora by the hand, taking her back inside the house. The last glimpse Peter had of Liora was her pale eyes, reaching out to him across the darkness of the kitchen yard. Their gazes locked before their respective fathers took them away.

Don’t forget about me.

Those words rolled over and over in Peter’s mind all the way home.

*

He had beenwatching the entire scene.

Asa’s bedchamber faced out over the kitchen yard, so he’d been watching the situation with his sister and Peter ever since Peter’s father had come to the door, looking for his son. Asa might have been young, and foolish at times, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that something was going on with his sister and the man he’d called a goy.

When he saw Peter and his father leave the kitchen yard, he slithered downstairs as his father and sister entered through the rear door. Liora was in tears and she ran past him, up to her chamber, as he hid in the shadows. There was sorrow in the air and even at his young age, he sensed it. As Asa watched, his father sank down into a chair at the table they used to eat their meals.

A big, empty table in a big, empty chamber with Haim sitting at the end of it, his hands folded in prayer and his eyes closed as he leaned on his hands. He was sitting in the dark but for a small amount of light coming from the banked hearth. Asa crept into the chamber, watching his elderly father from a distance. Haim continued to pray and, little by little, Asa snuck up on him. He was silent in his bare feet against the cold wooden floor, but he could sense that something serious had happened between his sister and the man he knew as Saint Peter.

He was sorry, too. He was coming to like the big knight who was so adept at firing pebbles back at him, yet so compassionate that he recognized hungry children. It was a paradox to young Asa, confused by a man he both feared and admired. He came to stand next to his father, watching the man closely.

“Papa?” he said softly.

Haim opened his eyes, looking at his little boy, the one who was born when he was already an old man. His eyes crinkled and he smiled at the child, pulling him into a hug.

“What are you doing awake, moyz,” he said, calling his son by his pet name – mouse. “It is very late.”

Asa wasn’t so old that he didn’t like to sit on his father’s lap as long as no one was around, particularly his friends. To his friends, he was tough and grown-up. To his father, however, he was still his little boy. He inched his way onto Haim’s lap.

“I saw Saint Peter and Liora in the kitchen yard,” he said. “That big man who came here – that was Saint Peter’s father?”

Haim nodded slowly, wearily. “Aye,” he said. “That is the Earl of Hereford and Worcester, a very great man.”

“Was he mean?”

“Nay, he was quite kind.”

“Why did he come?”

Haim sighed, long and riddled with emotion, setting back in his chair as Asa lay his head on the man’s shoulder. “To find his son.”

“But why was his son here?”

“He is fond of Liora.”

Asa thought on that a moment. “He is her friend,” he said. “He talks to her.”

“I know.”

“He talks to me, too.”

“He does?”

Asa nodded his head. “He helped me with Saul’s Army when they were stealing our eggs.”

Haim frowned, thinking of a fully armed Christian knight against a bunch of small children. “What did he do?”

“He talked to them,” Asa said. “He told them that stealing was not acceptable and if he heard that they were stealing again, he would come and punish them. But I saw Eneb – you know Eneb? He is from Saul’s Army. Eneb said that Saint Peter arranged for them to be fed every day.”

Haim stopped frowning. Asa’s words sank in and he sat up in surprise, looking at his son. “He did what?” he said. “He feeds them every day?”

Asa nodded. “A tavern on Lombard feeds them every morning,” he said. “Saint Peter feeds them so they will not steal our eggs anymore.”

Haim blinked, shocked. “He did that?”

Asa nodded again. Then, he cocked his head thoughtfully. “I know Saul’s Army steals because they do not have enough to eat,” he said. “I did not like that they stole our eggs, though. But Saint Peter made sure they were fed just so they wouldn’t steal. That was good of him, wasn’t it?”

Haim was quite surprised to hear all of this. He’d only met Peter twice, and he certainly didn’t know that much about him, but what Asa told him… that took a man of great compassion. That was a theme quite prevalent in his religion and culture, the show of compassion, of kindness to strangers. Peter wasn’t even Jewish, yet he was showing those traits. Haim had to remind himself that the Christians followed Jesus as the son of God and that Jesus preached kindness to strangers and to the less fortunate.

Some men followed that teaching, some didn’t.

Haim had known many Christian knights and nobles in his lifetime. Some were good, some were not so good, but the same could be said for his religion, as well. The traits of good or evil were not limited to only one religion. Still… Haim was impressed that Peter de Lohr, an elite and seasoned knight, should take the time to feed hungry children.

Perhaps he wasn’t just another warmonger, after all.

“It was very good of him, moyz,” he said after a moment. “You… you know Peter a little?”

Asa nodded. “I tried to chase him away at first,” he said. “But I’m glad I did not. He’s different from the other men we know, Papa. He’s big and has a big sword and he fights in wars. I am glad he is my friend.”

“Are you?”

Asa nodded. “Papa, I want to fight with a big sword when I grow up. Can I fight with Saint Peter?”

Haim shook his head. “Nay, little one,” he said. “The wars are for the Christians. We will stay safe here, in London.”

“But if I wanted to fight when I’m bigger, can I?”

Haim looked at his son, a boy who liked his boy gang and who liked the roughhousing of the streets. He wasn’t content to be educated and pious. Asa had a spark in him that was all his own, which could mean trouble when he became older. He’d never shown any interest in knights or battles until now and Haim knew he had to be careful in how he handled it. He wasn’t the kind to deny his children and not give them a reason for it, but a small boy might not understand.

He worded his reply deliberately.

“The world of the Jews and the Christian are two different worlds,” he said. “The Christians fight to spread the word of God and the Jews are content to live in their world and worship in their faith. We only fight when we have to. It’s like the world of the Maccabees and Saul’s Army – you never really mix. They have things that are important to them and you have things that are important to you. That is how the Christians and the Jews exist. Do you understand?”

Asa’s brow was furrowed as he thought on his father’s explanation. “But we can work with Saul’s Army if we must,” he said. “We have before when boys from Ironmonger Street came here to steal. We came together and we fought them off. We can work with Saint Peter and the Christians, can’t we?”

Haim nodded, sort of. “If we must, for the greater good,” he said. “But our world is such that only Christians can be knights.”

“Can’t I fight?”

“I do not think so, moyz.”

Asa climbed off his lap. “That is not right,” he said. “Saint Peter is a good man and if I want to be like him, then I should be allowed to. And Saint Peter likes Lee-Lee; I know he does. What if he wants to marry her?”

Haim shook his head. “He cannot,” he said. “Christians and Jews do not marry.”

“Who says so?”

“The Catholics and the Great Synagogue.”

“They do not like each other?”

Haim shrugged. “It is not a matter of like or dislike,” he said. “Is it simply what our faiths dictate. They are different.”

Asa pursed his lips, clearly unhappy with that answer. There were apples on the table, left out by his mother in case her children became hungry between meals. They were always welcome to take an apple. Asa picked up the apple, looking at it, thinking.

“I think that we should all be friends,” he said. “Papa, what if I wanted to marry a Christian girl when I get big? Would you let me?”

Haim reluctantly shook his head. “You could not,” he said. “Not unless she became Jewish.”

“Even if she was kind and very pretty?”

“Even so.”

Asa frowned. “It seems unfair,” he said. “Isn’t it most important that people are kind and love us, no matter if they are Christian and Jewish? The kind of people who will protect you and feed people who do not have enough to eat? That seems to be more important than people who pray in my temple or in a big church. Rabbi Judah told me that God cares what is in our hearts more than he cares about the prayers we give. Saint Peter has a good heart and it makes me feel sad that I will never be able to fight with him. I will never be anything more than a boy on the street to him.”

With that, he took his apple and left the chamber, leaving his father sitting in the darkness, pondering the wise, if not naïve, words of a seven-year-old boy. Out of the mouths of babes, he thought.

God cares what is in our hearts more than he cares about the prayers we give.

That left Haim wondering if he had broken one of the fundamentals of his own religion. Had he been so fixated on the cross Peter bore in his Christian faith that he failed to see the genuine and noble man beneath?

He wondered.