Valentine

Valentine Read Online Free PDF Page A

Book: Valentine Read Online Free PDF
Author: Heather Grothaus
England.”
    Mary paused. “Scotland?”
    Father Braund shook his head. “Austria. On the Danube River.”
    “Austria?” Mary shrieked. “How am I to get to Austria? I’ve never even been to London!”
    Father Braund stared at her for a moment. “Are you ready for a real adventure, Lady Mary?”

Chapter 2
    July 1180
Melk, Austria
     
    V alentine Alesander pretended to peruse the wares at the market stall as he circled around in pursuit of his quarry. He picked up a strand of garlic, seemed to consider it as he gave the stall’s proprietor a sage nod of admiration, and then returned it to the pile. Two more slow, sidling steps to the right to the next stall, which offered a selection of cheeses.
    The woman was stopped, considering a large wedge wrapped in cloth with great concentration before putting it down and picking up another, smaller piece. Eldest daughter; many mouths, little coin. Valentine leaned his left forearm along the stall’s half wall.
    “Good day,” he said. “Beautiful weather for marketing, yes?”
    The woman glanced up with a frown, and then her face softened as her eyes took in Valentine’s person. Her lips and fingertips were stained berry pink. Fruiter’s daughter.
    “Indeed,” she replied. “God is admiring his creation.”
    “As am I,” Valentine replied, taking in the young woman’s abundant curves. Perhaps eighteen.
    Her brow wrinkled. Steady suitor, arranged marriage. “Well, certainly. It is your duty always to point to his wondrous deeds. Everyone appreciates your dedication.”
    “Is that so?” he asked, taking a half step closer. “Perhaps you would like to express your appreciation in a more . . . personal manner?”
    “I—” the woman started, her frown increasing into an expression of distaste. “I must go. Good day, Brother.”
    “Wait,” he called after her, straightening from the stall, but she had already fled through the milling crowd of the village. “Damn.”
    “I do believe you are losing your touch, Brother Valentine,” the deep voice said from behind him. Valentine turned to see Roman Berg, a bouquet of long loaves beneath one massive arm, his voluminous robes making the man seem twice as wide as he already was.
    “I am no losing my touch—it is only this damned gown,” Valentine muttered, jerking at the brown cowl sagging against his chest.
    “Certainly it is.” Roman chuckled. “The women of Melk would not risk hell by dallying with a man under holy orders—not even one with your pretty lashes. And Victor has warned you about your forwardness with the women villagers.”
    “Bah, Victor. I hate this place.” Valentine turned and joined Roman as the man began to walk back through the village.
    “ ’Tis better than a Damascene dungeon.”
    “I will only concede that the climate is milder,” he answered. “In truth, we are as trapped here as if we were still beneath Saladin’s hand.”
    “Perhaps,” Roman said. “But I still prefer this locale. And that we are not dead. Any matter, something to distract you for a bit—Stan says a large group of pilgrims has come to Melk today. I know not from which direction they hail, but perhaps they carry some bit of news. I’ve not seen Victor since Lauds—which you were absent from. Again.”
    “I am pretending to be a monk, Roman. Pretending ,” Valentine enunciated. “I am glad you find some enjoyment in the role, but me? Pfft!” He threw up his hands and noticed crossly how the movement caused the villagers he and Roman passed to bow their heads.
    Roman smiled and raised his right hand to make the sign of the cross in the air before them. “God’s blessing upon you.”
    Valentine only smiled stiffly until they had passed the pious group. “I suspect Victor would have us all become monks in truth!” he continued his rail. “It is Brother This and Brother That all the day—and that is when we are even allowed to speak! But do you know the worst part?” he demanded of his
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