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| About the Book |
Book Title: Squire’s Hazard, The Fifth Meonbridge Chronicle
Series: The Meonbridge Chronicles
Author: Carolyn Hughes
Publication Date: 6th October 2022
Publisher: Riverdown Books
Page Length: 360
Genre: Historical Fiction
How do you overcome the loathing, lust and bitterness threatening you and your family’s honour?
It’s 1363, and in Steyning Castle, Sussex, Dickon de Bohun is enjoying life as a squire in the household of Earl Raoul de Fougère. Or he would be, if it weren’t for Edwin de Courtenay, who’s making his life a misery with his bullying, threatening to expose the truth about Dickon’s birth.
At home in Meonbridge for Christmas, Dickon notices how grown-up his childhood playmate, Libby Fletcher, has become since he last saw her and feels the stirrings of desire. Libby, seeing how different he is too, falls instantly in love. But as a servant to Dickon’s grandmother, Lady Margaret de Bohun, she could never be his wife.
Margery Tyler, Libby’s aunt, meeting her niece by chance, learns of her passion for young Dickon. Their conversation rekindles Margery’s long-held rancour against the de Bohuns, whom she blames for all the ills that befell her family, including her own servitude. For years she’s hidden her hunger for retribution, but she can no longer keep her hostility in check.
As the future Lord of Meonbridge, Dickon knows he must rise above de Courtenay’s loathing and intimidation, and get the better of him. And, surely, he must master his lust for Libby, so his own mother’s shocking history is not repeated? Of Margery’s bitterness, however, he has yet to learn…
Beset by the hazards these powerful and dangerous emotions bring, can young Dickon summon up the courage and resolve to overcome them?
Secrets, hatred and betrayal, but also love and courage – Squire’s Hazard, the fifth MEONBRIDGE CHRONICLE.
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| Read An Excerpt |
From Chapter 2
Libby had hoped she might be allowed to stay and listen to Dickon’s tales of life in Steyning, but of course her ladyship dismissed her, wanting to be alone with her grandson.
‘You can have an hour or two to yourself,’ she said, and waved her away. Libby didn’t want time to herself. She wanted to sit in her ladyship’s chamber and gaze upon the vision of manhood Dickon had become.
Naturally he’d grown taller, as had she. But how handsome he was now: his black hair so glossy and his blue eyes sharp and steely. And his chin was definitely stronger. From what she’d heard, he looked just like his father, Philip.
She’d seen him for only moments, as she stood at the chamber door, then ushered him inside But she could tell he was surprised too by how much she’d grown since he last saw her, for, as he cast his eyes over her, they sparkled, and his smile was warm. Her heart had flipped. But he’d then stared beyond her, asking for his grandmother and, when she stepped aside to let him enter, he just pushed past her, without another glance.
By the time she returned to her ladyship’s chamber, he’d gone.
She’d come back from the kitchen with a plate of sweetmeats, and placed them on the table. ‘Cook asked if you’d care to taste these, milady. It’s a new recipe he’s trying, for the Christmas feast. He said he’d value your opinion.’
Lady Margaret gazed at the plate of almond delicacies. ‘How delightful.’ She picked one up between two fingers and popped it into her mouth. She savoured it a little. ‘Delicious. Why don’t you try one, Libby dear?’
Libby was glad to taste one of the little morsels and agreed it was delectable. Her ladyship took a second one, then a third, declaring all most appetising, and bid Libby pass on her approval to Cook.
She nodded but, as her ladyship seemed so merry, she thought she might risk asking about Dickon. ‘And is his lordship content at Steyning Castle?’ It seemed silly calling her childhood friend “his lordship”, but she didn’t want to seem disrespectful.
Lady Margaret’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh yes, very happy. It is clear he has inherited his skill with horses from his father, despite the lowly nature of his early upbringing, and his late start in knightly pursuits.’
‘I suppose he doesn’t miss Meonbridge at all?’
‘Oh, I am not at all sure that is true. He seems content enough to be back here for a while, although of course, one day, albeit many years ahead, when he is lord, he will make Meonbridge his home.’
That “when he is lord” lay heavily upon Libby’s heart. Was that why he’d brushed past her earlier? He no longer thought of her as his friend, but just another servant?
During dinner, Dickon did glance Libby’s way from time to time, causing flutterings in her belly and confusion in her mind. She hoped to have a chance to speak to him afterwards but, as soon as Lady Margaret declared the meal finished, he left the hall with Piers Arundale. So she helped the other servants clear away, as she usually did. Then she went upstairs to sit with her ladyship a while, as usual in the hour following dinner, when she’d do some sewing whilst her ladyship slipped into a doze.
...
When her sewing hour was done, and Lady Margaret had awoken and bid her take a message, Libby wrapped her thickest woollen cloak about her and went down to the hall. But at the bottom of the stairs, as she was about to run across towards the kitchens, she saw Dickon and Piers were indoors again, standing by the hearth, their backs towards the fire.
She hesitated, one foot on the bottom step. Could she approach him, or had the time for any intimacy between them already passed? Anyway, she’d instructions from her ladyship, and had no choice but to cross the hall.
As she came closer, Dickon looked up. She couldn’t read his face. Was he pleased to see her, or maybe it mattered little to him? But he spoke her name, and moved away from Piers. Coming up to her, he smiled. ‘Libby? How are you?’
She bobbed a curtsey, despite still feeling silly. ‘Well enough, my lord.’
‘We didn’t have a chance earlier to talk. Can you sit a moment?’
‘Her ladyship’s expecting me back.’
‘A few minutes then.’ He pointed to one of the stone seats built into the long walls of the hall. Each seat was underneath one of the tall narrow windows, which had glass panes at the top but were merely shuttered at the bottom. Wind whistled between the wooden slats, sending shivers down her back. But she didn’t mind the chill for the chance of a few words with Dickon, and pulled the hood of her cloak up a little more around her neck.
For several moments they were silent. She wanted to jump in but thought it best to wait for him to speak. It hadn’t been like this last year. Now it felt more awkward. Not only did he seem much older, but he was also moving ever closer to becoming lord of Meonbridge, whereas she was just a servant. She supposed they could no longer be the friends that they once were.
But Dickon took her hand. ‘Do you ever think about the way it used to be, when we were children?’
She was surprised. Had he after all been thinking the same as her? ‘When you first came up here, supposedly to play with me?’
‘We saw each other every week for years.’
‘We used to have such fun together, especially when we were older…’
‘And didn’t we get into scrapes?’ He squeezed her hand, and he talked about the day when the wicked Bounes got a so-called friar to try to kidnap him. Libby’s bravery had saved him, when she hobbled the man by thwacking at his legs with a stout branch.
‘Piers was brave as well,’ she said and he agreed. Piers had chased off the “friar” by charging at him with his sword.
He went quiet again. ‘But those times have gone, Libby. My life has changed, for the better, of course, though sometimes it doesn’t always seem so.’ His eyes suddenly looked sad. ‘Soon enough I’ll inherit my grandfather’s domains, with all the duties that entails….’ He let go her hand.
Libby couldn’t think what to say. His eyes now seemed to suggest maybe he wasn’t quite as contented as her ladyship implied.
‘But surely that’s years away?’ she said. ‘You don’t have to worry about all that yet.’
‘Oh, but I do, Libby.’
She started in surprise. His words were spoken with a sudden sharpness, when moments ago his mood had been relaxed, as he reminisced about their past. She didn’t know what more to say.
For a few moments, it seemed he didn’t either, but at length he gave her a wan smile. ‘What I meant to say, Libby, was that we’ll no longer be able to spend much time together, if any.’
A tightness gripped her chest. Surely he didn’t mean it? They could always find a little time… She wanted to say so, but how could she gainsay him?
‘Anyway, I must go,’ he said, jumping up from the seat. ‘Things to do…’ He raked his fingers through his hair.
She wondered what it was he had to do, as rain was once more lashing at the window glass above her head. But it wasn’t for her to ask. She got up as well. No suitable leave-taking came to mind, so she just bobbed a curtsey and hurried off towards the kitchens
Buy Links:
This book is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.
Universal Link:
https://books2read.com/u/bW5yJz
Amazon UK:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Squires-Hazard-Meonbridge-Chronicle-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B0BHKH1QB1/
Amazon US:
https://www.amazon.com/Squires-Hazard-Meonbridge-Chronicle-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B0BHKH1QB1/
Amazon CA:
https://www.amazon.ca/Squires-Hazard-Meonbridge-Chronicle-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B0BHKH1QB1/
Amazon AU:
https://www.amazon.com.au/Squires-Hazard-Meonbridge-Chronicle-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B0BHKH1QB1/
The paperback is available to buy at
Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Waterstones.
CAROLYN HUGHES has lived much of her life in Hampshire. With a first degree in Classics and English, she started working life as a computer programmer, then a very new profession. But it was technical authoring that later proved her vocation, as she wrote and edited material, some fascinating, some dull, for an array of different clients, including banks, an international hotel group and medical instruments manufacturers.
Having written creatively for most of her adult life, it was not until her children flew the nest several years ago that writing historical fiction took centre stage, alongside gaining a Master’s degree in Creative Writing from Portsmouth University and a PhD from the University of Southampton.
Squire’s Hazard is the fifth MEONBRIDGE CHRONICLE, and more stories about the folk of Meonbridge will follow.
You can connect with Carolyn through her website
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/writingcalliope
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/CarolynHughesAuthor/
Book Bub:
https://www.bookbub.com/profile/carolyn-hughes
Amazon Author Page UK:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Carolyn-Hughes/e/B01MG5TWH1/
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16048212.Carolyn_Hughes
Twitter Handles: @writingcalliope @cathiedunn
Hashtags: #Medieval #HistoricalFiction #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub
Blog Tour Schedule page:
https://thecoffeepotbookclub.blogspot.com/2022/09/blog-tour-squires-hazard.html
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Join me on a voyage round the blogs
hosted by delightful, wonderful writers
of thoroughly enjoyable books:
Monday 31st October Deborah Swift's Blog I talk about why I started the series and mention Voyage3 Bring It Close, Jesamiah is in trouble – trouble follows him like a ship’s wake – but this time in trouble with his wife, Tiola, and Governor Spotswood of Virginia. Against Jesamiah’s better judgement he finds himself embroiled in plans to rid the seas of the most notorious pirate of the Golden Age of Piracy – Blackbeard! There are complications, though. (1) How to placate his irate wife. (2) How to stay alive long enough to achieve 1, and (3) What to do about, and ignore, his dead father? Ghosts do not exist. Or do they? If they don’t, then who is the chap hanging around the Virginia plantation where Jesamiah grew up? The chap who seems to be keeping a close eye on what Jesamiah is up to? And it just so happens, that much of Bring It Close is set in October – at Hallowe’en!
NOVEMBER
2nd Charlene Newcomb Welcome to my Worlds I'm a guest of author Charlene Newcomb today - I'm talking about the highs and lows of being an author (and believe me, there's a lot of both for most authors!)
4th Anna Belfrage Stolen Moments With Jesamiah occasionally interrupting I talk about locations then and now, and using where I've been in the tales I write
7th J.G. Harlond Reading and Writing Usung facts and real people in fiction.
Wednesday 9th Lucienne Boyce's Blog
Friday 11th Judith Arnopp's Blog
Monday 14th Mercedes Rochelle Historical Fiction Blog
Tuesday 15th Cryssa
Bazos'sBlog
Wednesday 16th Elizabeth St John's Blog
Thursday 17th Alison Morton's Writing Blog
Friday 18th Annie
Whitehead Reads, Writes, Reviews
Monday 21st Linda
Collison Sea of Words
Tuesday 22nd Marian
L. Thorpe's Blog
Wednesday 23rd M.K. Tod
Thursday 24th Cathie Dunn Historical Fiction, Mystery & Romance
Friday 25th Joan Fallon's Blog
Monday 28th Tony
Riches The Writing Desk
Wednesday 30th Pauline Barclay
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Thank you for hosting Carolyn Hughes today, Helen. xx
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