Warriors Of Legend

by Kathryn Le Veque, Kathryn Loch, Dana D'Angelo

  “Easy there.” John, following them inside from the bailey, stepped up and grabbed Micah. The knight hoisted Micah’s arm and hauled him up the stairs with Kate on their heels.

  “Leave me alone, John,” Micah muttered.

  “I will in a moment.”

  With an angry growl, Micah pushed away and staggered up the steps on his own. “I need no nursemaid. Get me some more wine.”

  Kate stepped closer to John. “I’ll take care of him. Get him some more wine.”

  “Lady, he doesn’t need any more.”

  “I know that,” she whispered harshly. “Just get it and hopefully by the time I get him into bed he will be unconscious.”

  John shrugged and turned for the kitchens.

  Micah swayed in front of his door, staring at the latch as if he had forgotten how to work it. Kate deftly slipped around him and opened the door.

  “Thank you, chérie,” he drawled and staggered inside. Micah collapsed into his bed and Kate sighed in relief. He would probably sleep for a day. Her gaze fell on Micah’s muddy boots, she could not leave him like this. She looked at him lying face down in his pillow. His hair streamed over his back like a wild mane. She could not deny the perfect symmetry of his tanned body outlined by the light colored bedding. Kate sighed and pulled his boots off. To her surprise, Micah groaned and sat up.

  “Where’s my wine?”

  “John’s getting it,” Kate said quickly.

  He rubbed his eyes then blinked at her. “Tell me truly, Kate, did MacLeary bed you?”

  Pain knifed through her heart and tears blurred her eyes. Throughout all this, Kate had held out the tiny hope that Micah did not believe the awful lie. She had to find a way to convince him. An idea stirred, one she did not like. There was one way. Still, Kate hoped to find another answer.

  ***

  Micah regretted his words the moment they fell out of his mouth. He cursed himself and the amount of wine he had drunk. Micah had been able to keep his worry from Kate, but now it was out and he had hurt her.

  He stood and took an unsteady step toward her. “Kate—”

  “Nay, MacLeary did not bed me,” she said hoarsely, her pain sparking into fury.

  His gaze dropped to the floor. Micah’s stomach clenched with shame. The thought of MacLeary touching Kate tormented him. The uncertainty…the chance that it might have happened, however small, nearly drove Micah insane.

  Kate abruptly turned her back on him, her spine rigid. “You found me dirty and abused, nothing more than a poorly kept brood mare.” She paused, and took a deep breath. “It was not always that way.”

  Micah tried to blink away the haze that clouded his vision. “What do you mean?”

  “When MacLeary took the castle, he tried to keep me as a noble prisoner. The laird wished me to marry his son to secure the inheritance of Appleby. MacLeary didn’t expect my adamant refusal.”

  “But he had just murdered your family. What else did he expect?”

  Kate slowly turned to face him, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Oh, he expected me to fight, but thought eventually I’d break and agree to the marriage. He tried bribery, cajoling, and threats. When that failed, he terrorized me. But no priest, even those who care more about gold than their own souls, would perform the ceremony with me screaming my refusals. I told MacLeary I’d cut out my own tongue before I spoke the vows.”

  Micah lifted an eyebrow. He could imagine Kate standing boldly before MacLeary, with her hands fisted into her skirts, telling him what she thought of him.

  “At first, I was allowed to move freely around the castle, even the bailey, whenever I wanted to. But that changed after my three attempts to escape.”

  “Three?”

  She nodded. “The third one would have succeeded if my horse hadn’t hit a gopher hole and broken his leg. On that last attempt it took them two days to find me. Afterward, I was confined to the castle and always under guard. I still wouldn’t agree to the marriage. One night, Dougal MacLeary, tired of waiting for his son to tame me, came to my room intending to break me himself. He didn’t know about the dagger I kept under my pillow. He almost lost the ability to bed anyone that night. If his soldiers hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed him.”

  Micah fought down a smile. He would have given anything to see Kate brandishing a dagger in MacLeary’s face…or his nether regions.

  “But that’s when things turned worse,” Kate said, her shoulders slumping. “MacLeary ordered me locked in the dungeon. I would stay there until I agreed to the marriage. He ordered his son to take me. Once I was breeding, I would have no choice but to marry him. But Laird MacLeary didn’t expect that his son did not have the courage to do something so evil. Stephan would beat me, but when he tried to bed me I would scream and fight. Stephan couldn’t…” She paused searching for the words. “Bring himself to dishonor me.”

  Kate probably meant trying to rape a woman unmanned Stephan. That was, at least, something in the sod’s favor.

  “I quickly discovered the more I fought the less he was able to do. I knew then if I ever stopped fighting, if I ever gave in to the pain, MacLeary would win. Toward the end…before you came…I almost gave up. The pain was too much to bear.”

  An invisible band tightened around Micah’s chest. He stepped forward and gently gripped her shoulders. Kate felt so fragile under his hands. But within that slight body a spirit soared stronger than any he had ever known. He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss the pain away, until her gray eyes were no longer fearful and she knew she would never be alone again.

  She looked up at him and Micah wondered what he could say or do to stop her tears. His jaw tightened. He hated it when she cried.

  “You still don’t believe me, do you?”

  Micah blinked in surprise. “What?”

  Kate’s body stiffened under his hands. A spark of anger returned to her eyes. “Fine, my lord. Promise to marry me and you may take me to your bed this night. I will prove it to you.”

  His own anger rose. Did she think him so terrible? “Care you nothing for your honor?”

  “Not as much as you think you do,” Kate spat. “If bedding me now will help convince you I speak the truth, then that is all that matters.”

  Micah scowled. “Do you realize how that sounds? One wonders if you did indeed offer yourself to MacLeary since you have just done it to me.”

  Kate strangled a cry of rage and flew at him. Micah caught her wrists as she tried to beat him with her fists. Tears poured down her cheeks like a flood. “Why won’t anyone believe me?” she screeched, then sagged against him, all fight retreating. “Why?” she sobbed. “I don’t know of any other way to prove it to you.”

  “It is very important to you that I believe you, isn’t it?” Micah paused and studied her a long moment. “Why, Kate? Why is that so important to you?”

  She stared up at him, her body trembling. “You of all people should know if I willingly gave myself to MacLeary, I would have betrayed my family and I would have no honor left.”

  Micah winced. Touché, chérie, he thought, trying to rein in his emotions. Micah dragged his hand through his hair, wishing his blurred senses would clear. It was what Kate had not said that struck him. She had spoken of honor, not her fear of the convent. But if Micah married her then Kate would lose that honor to the treachery of the Montfort rebellion. “Kate, to use your words, I do not view marriage to you as so vile a choice. But if I marry you now, you take a name that is stained. Until Henry returns my inheritance that mark will remain.”

  “Glory, Micah, I don’t understand. You are to be baron here. If you believe your name is sullied until Henry returns your lands…well, you will wait for vindication until we have Appleby well in hand and two squalling babes at our feet.”

  Micah arched an eyebrow. “Two?”

  Kate’s jaw tightened and she fisted her hands into her skirts. Micah knew she fought to keep from slapping him – which he well deserved. He rubbed his eyes.
When did I lose control of this conversation? He sighed, it was the alcohol. Micah had to bring an end to this before he hurt Kate any further. But he suddenly realized the entire discussion was absolutely ridiculous. He warred over a decision his heart had already made. Micah did believe Kate and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t justify destroying her to get what he wanted.

  The knock on the door made Kate jump.

  “Who is it?” Micah growled.

  “John. I brought your wine.”

  Micah rubbed his temples. “Sorry to trouble you, John, but I need no more wine right now.”

  He was certain he heard a sigh of relief through the door. “Of course. I bid you good night.”

  “Good night.” Micah waited a minute, staring at Kate during the uncomfortable silence. He remembered her fear of him at the bonfire and wondered if she was truly terrified of men. There was one way to find out and since Kate had already made the offer…Micah took a deep breath. “Did you mean your words?”

  “Pray pardon?”

  “You said if I needed proof I could take you this night.”

  “Aye.” Kate’s gray eyes flashed defiantly. “If you cannot take my word on the matter, I will see the offer through. But if you take that from me, you must promise to marry me at least.”

  The fire raging within him exploded out of control. Micah pulled Kate into his arms. “And how do you know I will keep my promises,” he growled and trapped her mouth with his.

  ***

  Kate’s senses reeled as Micah crushed her to him and his mouth assaulted hers. She planted her hands against his chest and tried to push away but she’d have better luck moving a mountain. His tongue swept across hers, exploring her mouth, igniting a fire in her belly that threatened to consume her. Kate couldn’t breathe, her mind spun and she feared she would fall but Micah’s arms held her securely.

  He tasted like sweet wine and smelled faintly of smoke. His body was a hard wall of power wrapping around her. Kate’s hands relaxed against Micah’s chest and she became aware of the exquisite feel of skin under her fingers. Her hands slid lightly down his chest, exploring the ridge of muscle that dove so sharply to his ribs, feeling the thick fiber that contracted under her touch. Micah groaned and kissed her deeply, his hands caressing her back and across her hips, pulling her closer to the raging fire of his body.

  Her clothes seemed so thin as he ran his palms up her sides. He nipped at her lower lip only to return with a kiss, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. One hand buried itself in her hair, locking her head in place. His thumb crossed the point of her breast and fire shot through her. She gasped as his fingers explored the vibrant bud that bloomed under his touch.

  Micah’s mouth slid from hers and brushed down her throat, his tongue tasting and stroking, his teeth nipping gently, his lips vibrantly soft but powerful, stirring her flesh. Kate groaned and leaned against him, wondering how long her legs could support her.

  Micah hauled himself back and held her at arm’s length. “Go,” he whispered hoarsely as if speaking was suddenly difficult.

  Kate blinked, still trying to gather her senses. “What?”

  “Leave me now.”

  She pulled back in confusion but Micah did not release her. What was going on? He asked her to leave, then refused to let her go.

  “I believe you,” he said and let his hands drop.

  “What?”

  “I believe you have not been touched and I will not take you until we are properly married.”

  It took a moment for Kate to realize her jaw hung open. “I don’t…understand.”

  “You were willing to prove you are untouched even if it meant me bedding you now. I will not take you unwed or while I’m drunk.” Micah grabbed Kate’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Your stand has been proven, ma chérie automne, I beg your forgiveness for my doubt.”

  Kate’s heart skipped a beat and she swallowed hard. Micah’s indigo eyes blazed with feral desire, yet his jaw firmed with conviction. He truly did believe her and wanted her forgiveness.

  “You…you will marry me instead of sending me to a convent?”

  “Aye, chérie, in a sennight.”

  Kate couldn’t think straight standing so close to him. Not after Micah had turned her senses upside down with that kiss. What did it mean? Was there a chance that she had a future? Kate’s mind refused to function. She bolted for the door and ran down the hall as if the devil was after her.

  Chapter Six

  Two days later, Kate was in a frenzy of planning a wedding. She still could not believe Micah had actually agreed to marry her. Kate had been certain he would change his mind when he sobered. But to her shock, the next morning, Micah had announced the plans to all and sent a man to fetch a priest from Byland Abbey.

  Although Kate was relieved at not being forced into a convent, the thought of marriage to Micah intimidated, to say the least. And how do you know I will keep my promises, he had said. Kate shivered and realized her gullibility. Micah could have bedded her and still have sent her away – leaving her with absolutely nothing, not even her self–respect. Thank God he had not.

  Yet Micah seemed to have softened toward Kate after the fiasco and that encouraged her. Kate discovered they slowly returned to the more relaxed friendship they had been developing before receiving Henry’s disastrous letter. Would it continue? She could only hope.

  Kate forced her worries aside and opened a small chest in her room. Inside was the wedding gown she and her mother had made along with some other items intended to be used on Kate’s wedding day.

  A knock on her door startled her. “Enter.”

  Marjorie opened the door. “My lady.” Her gaze fell on the contents of the chest and she picked up a bolt of rich blue silk damask. “You still have these gifts from your mother?”

  Kate’s eyes filled with tears. “Aye. I am fortunate the chest did not attract MacLeary’s attention or I would have lost it too.”

  Marjorie fingered the material. “This was to be your gift to the groom.” Her eyes sparked mischievously. “It is a good color for your young steed.”

  Kate chuckled. “Aye, but I fear I will not be able to make anything in five days time. Do you think it will be all right if I found another gift?”

  “Of course, lady. In fact, I came to tell you that the merchant wagons approach. Word of Sir Montfort’s possession of the keep has spread and the merchants wish to renew their trade with Appleby.”

  Kate nearly crowed with delight but she managed to control herself. “Wonderful,” she said. “Tell the other ladies, Marjorie. I pray I can find a gift for my betrothed but we also need good cloth for winter clothing.”

  Marjorie nodded. “Before we go, I must ask a boon of you.”

  “Of course, Marjorie.”

  She motioned to someone outside the door. A young girl, about the same size as Kate, with long dark hair and brown eyes, entered. She was pale and drawn, her eyes wide with fear and nervousness.

  “My lady,” Marjorie said. “This is Sarah.”

  “Hello, Sarah,” Kate said and gave her a reassuring smile.

  The girl swallowed hard and bobbed a quick curtsey. “Milady.”

  “She is from our village, I’ve been teaching her a bit of herb–lore. I hoped we might find some work for her, perhaps in the kitchens.”

  Kate frowned. “Marjorie, I believe we have all the help we need.”

  “I realize that, my lady, but Sarah…her family was killed when…”

  Kate’s mouth went dry and she swallowed. When MacLeary took Appleby, he nearly destroyed the village residing in its shadow. No doubt when Micah assaulted the castle, the villagers again paid the price of war. “I see,” she said softly. “Well, then, I’m certain we can find something for her. Speak to Mary and find Sarah a place to sleep. Do you need any clothes, Sarah?”

  The girl ducked her head. “This dress is fine, milady.”

  Kate gave her an understanding grin. “Marjorie…”


  “I will see to it.”

  “Good. Sarah, we shall give you food, clothing, and a roof over your head. I will speak to Sir Montfort about paying you a little something as well.”

  Sarah’s eyes grew even wider. “Thank ye, milady.” She bobbed another quick curtsey.

  Kate nodded. “Now, let’s go see the merchants.”

  Marjorie smiled then tugged Sarah out the door.

  Kate donned her cloak and hurried to the bailey just as welcoming shouts greeted the merchants through the gates. The skies were gray and the air cold but at least it was not raining. Her gaze quickly found Micah as he climbed down the scaffolding of the north tower that he and his men had been repairing. A few feet from the ground, Micah vaulted over a rail and jumped the rest of the way. He landed as lightly as a cat. Kate swallowed hard, never had she seen a man move with such fluid beauty.

  Micah spotted her and approached. Kate frowned when she saw his tunic, soaked with sweat, plastered to his broad chest. He pushed his damp hair out of his eyes. “My lady.”

  “You should be careful, my lord. Working yourself so hard in this chill weather might give you a fever.”

  His lips quirked in his endearing lopsided smile. “No need to worry. I was born from a hardy stock.”

  Kate tried to fight back a grin and failed. “So I’ve noticed.”

  Micah chuckled and looked to the wagons. “I see you are aware of our visitors.”

  “Aye. I hoped to see what the merchants have.”

  Micah folded his arms across his chest and sighed. “You are not yet my wife but already you wish to make me destitute.”

  Kate blinked, stunned. “I have no such wish. Appleby’s—”

  “Coffers were empty,” Micah interrupted. “Do you think MacLeary would leave that behind?”

  Her shoulders slumped and she mentally berated herself. “My apologies, I did not realize.” Kate turned away.

  “Kate,” Micah said and gently took her arm.

  She looked back at him and was surprised to see his bright grin.