He shook his head. Marjorie had definitely read him like a battle plan. But she misread one thing, not surprising since he completely shocked himself with it. Micah was not angry, he was absolutely joyous. He quirked an eyebrow, a wicked idea blossoming. Two could play this little game. Carefully, he schooled his features into hard anger.
“Marjorie!” he roared, and charged down the stairs.
The healer stood in the great hall. Micah stalked toward her. She paled when she saw him but bravely squared her shoulders. “My lord?”
Micah gritted his teeth and jabbed a finger at her as he walked. “I should have you beaten for your insolence.”
“So, Kate told you.”
“She told me,” he snapped and stopped in front of her. He seized the healer by the shoulders. “What were you thinking?”
Marjorie swallowed hard and fear flickered across her features. Micah counted coup and allowed himself to grin broadly. “Next time, Marjorie, scaring me witless will not be necessary.” He kissed her cheek and released her.
Marjorie’s eyes nearly popped from her head.
Micah threw back his head and roared his laughter. He scooped his wine cup from the table and lifted it into the air. “Attend!” he bellowed to his knights. “My gentle lady has just informed me I am to be a father.”
The answering cheers dizzied him.
“Hail, Baron Montfort!” someone shouted and others echoed the chant. Micah took a drink of his wine, grinning broadly. He glanced at Marjorie who stared at him as if he had grown a second head. He winked at her.
Marjorie bristled, but abruptly deflated. Her shoulders shook as she laughed. She started to walk past him, and paused. “Methinks old Marjorie has met her match with this young steed.” She continued toward the stairs.
Micah barked a laugh as his knights stepped forward to offer their congratulations.
***
The next morning, Micah returned to the solar after breakfast, surprised to see Kate dressed in a fine blue damask gown. She sat in a chair and brushed her hair.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked as he stepped in and closed the door.
“A little dizzy,” Kate replied and smiled at him. “But so far my stomach is cooperating.”
“I hoped you would be able to attend the Christmas revel today.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
Micah chuckled and moved to his bureau drawer. “Very well,” he said and pulled out a small box. “Allow me to give you your Christmas present now.”
Kate blinked in surprise. “But—”
He shook his head and handed her the box.
Kate’s gray eyes sparked and her smile grew. “All right but you have to open yours first.”
Micah arched an eyebrow and decided to humor her. “If you insist.”
Kate directed him to the wardrobe where he pulled out a medium sized finely carved wooden box. Micah sat in the chair across from her, his fingers running over the elegant knotwork.
The box itself was a handsome gift. He opened it to see a tunic made of the richest dark blue damask he had ever seen. The woven silk had a faint decorative pattern in it, visible only when he held it at a certain angle. The neck and sleeves sparked with gold embroidery. He looked closely and saw the tiny, painstaking stitches which made a very wide band of decoration. His eyes widened when he realized the hours of craftsmanship that went in the making of the garment.
“Where did you find this?” Micah asked softly, holding the tunic up and gazing at it in appreciation.
Kate ducked her head and blushed. “I made it. My mother gave me a wedding chest with various items for myself and my future husband. I did not have time to make the tunic as a wedding gift, as intended, so I hoped Christmas would be appropriate.”
He caught her hand. “So this is what you’ve been sewing.”
She nodded.
“It is the finest garment I have ever seen. Thank you, my lady.” He kissed the back of her hand.
Kate smiled timidly.
Micah grinned at her. “What? Did you think I would not like it?”
“I did not know.”
“I do, Kate. It is beautiful and made by your own hand.”
Her grin brightened and he carefully put the tunic on the table. “I shall wear it this eve.” Micah gestured to the small box she held. “It is your turn.”
Kate opened it slowly. A small teardrop sapphire with a gold filigree nestled inside. Kate’s eyes widened and she gasped, her fingers suddenly trembling.
Unexpected emotion threatened to close his throat and Micah swallowed hard. “‘Tis the Montfort Sapphire, my lady,” he said softly, wondering if his voice could possibly convey how much the tiny artifact meant to him.
Kate lifted it out of the chest, cradling the small stone in her hand. It was not the largest piece of jewelry Micah had ever seen, nor the finest. Yet the stone’s value proved far more than he could ever express.
“It is beautiful, Micah,” Kate whispered.
He stood and took the stone from her, moving to put it around her neck. His hands shook but not as hard as Kate’s. “My father gave this necklace to my mother on their first Christmas together. ‘Tis only fitting you wear it now.”
Micah returned to his seat and leaned forward to straighten the stone, his fingers lightly brushing Kate’s skin. She gazed at him, her eyes wide. A large tear trickled down her cheek and Micah watched her in surprise. He knelt before her and took her hands in his. “Why are you crying?”
“Micah…I…”
“What?” He smiled, hoping to encourage her to speak.
For an instant, Kate seemed to stare into his soul. She took a deep breath. “I love you, Micah,” she said, her voice trembling.
Shock careened through him. Her words punched him in the gut. He sucked in his breath desperately. Micah tried to back away, but could not move. Kate’s hands tightened on his. His mind reeled, and his heart screamed. Micah was nothing to Kate…
He frantically tried to get his thoughts under control. Love…home…a family… Was it possible? Were his dreams real? Micah dare not hope, he dare not allow himself to be so vulnerable. He stared at Kate, knowing she expected a reply, to hear him speak the same words but he couldn’t. Micah didn’t know what love was anymore.
He dragged in a breath. “Kate—”
“Hush,” she said, her fingers touching his lips in a fashion which Micah found absolutely erotic. “I can feel the war raging within you, the doubt which screams this cannot be. But time will prove my words.” Kate leaned forward and lightly kissed him. “You will see.”
Micah swallowed hard and backed away, confusion still careening through him. The memory of his uncle’s expression, the hatred radiating in his eyes as he shoved his sword through Micah’s side, forced itself across his vision. For an instant, Micah again stood on the battlefield, pain and anguish ripping his soul to shreds. If the bonds of family mean nothing, how can Kate love me? She owes no duty to me.
This could not be…he dare not hope again. He suddenly wanted to run, to hide from the powerful emotions tearing through him. Instead he pulled Kate into his arms and held her tightly.
Please let this be real, his heart screamed.
***
Kate understood Micah’s stunned reaction. His world had toppled around his ears in less than two days. After a long moment, he silently pulled away and changed his clothes for the revel.
Kate said nothing while he gathered himself, continuing to brush her hair. Tears blurred her eyes as she touched the necklace. The gift struck her deeply. It proved a part of the doorway to Micah’s past that he kept nailed shut.
Micah finished dressing, wearing the new tunic Kate had given him. Once again regal and knightly, he faced her. “My lady, it would be my honor to escort you.” He bowed and offered his arm.
Kate accepted and they descended the stairs to the great hall.
Yule branches, with holly and ivy decorated the hall. New c
andles, mounted in finely crafted silver holders, cast a soft golden glow. Two large tables sat in a T shape. The high table stood on the dais and the second one stretched the length of the great hall. Heavy pewter roundels and cups, along with hand–carved trenchers, adorned the tables. Servants worked at the sideboard in the salle, placing freshly baked bread loaves on roundels. Micah’s knights greeted elegantly dressed lords and ladies from the barony. Minstrels played in the corner, creating an atmosphere of celebration.
Kate paused at the base of the stairs, her throat tightening with emotion. Appleby stood in all of her glory – a strong barony, and a warm inviting home. After MacLeary, Kate never imagined this possible. She witnessed a miracle which would have never been achieved if not for Micah. She looked up at him.
His indigo eyes gazed intently at her.
“I never thought this would come to pass,” Kate said softly. “It seems like MacLeary was never here.”
Micah’s smile dazzled her and his grip tightened on her hand. He inclined his head toward the hearth. “I see Lords Borough and Pendragon are here. Perhaps we should play the stuffy role of baron and baroness.”
Kate tried to keep her expression neutral. “Or the role of charming rogue and lady?”
“If you wish, but I warn you, I am not playing the role of lady.”
She fought to stifle a giggle and failed. Micah chuckled and led her to the hearth.
Chapter Fifteen
Micah again surprised himself by thoroughly enjoying dinner and the revel as it progressed. Kate stayed at his side, her gray eyes bright. The sapphire he had given her sparked at her throat. Yet her face remained a bit pale. She ate very little and Micah hoped she enjoyed herself.
Still, he tried not to think of her words this morning. They only addled him more.
After dinner, the lords of the barony presented their gifts to Kate and Micah. He was well pleased. There were many items, a small box of gold, weapons, and even some sheep which had been herded into the barns. The ladies gave Kate fabric, a few baubles, and expensive spices for the kitchens. After the gift–giving, servants cleared the table, and moved it out of the way to make room for dancing.
Kate and Micah sat in their chairs on the dais before the hearth as the musicians played. Most of the guests gathered in a circle in the great hall. Many others chatted pleasantly, enjoying themselves. If the revel was any sign, Micah could count himself a successful baron.
His gaze slid across the guests, stopping on Tobin. He stood out of the way, in the corner. He glowered at the revelers, but Micah wasn’t overly concerned. William and Roger helped the other squires and pages serve wassail to the guests.
Micah spotted Hubert and waved him over. The huntsman approached, appearing clean and refreshed. “Your excellency,” he said, bowing.
“How progressed the hunt?” Micah asked softly.
Hubert’s green eyes turned flinty. “I gave a good chase but he made it out.”
Micah scowled. “Out of the barony?”
Hubert nodded. “I thought about pursuing but when one huntsman enters the domain of another, he loses his advantage. There will be another hunt soon.”
Micah nodded, a little confused.
The young man smiled. “‘Tis a wonderful revel, Baron.”
“Thank you, Hubert, enjoy yourself.”
“That I shall.” He bowed again and returned to the dancing.
Micah watched the revelers for a moment, then again looked at Kate. “I realize you might not be feeling your best but I wonder if you will share at least one dance with me.”
“I would love to.”
***
Kate’s heart pounded as she and Micah took their places among the dancers. The minstrels struck a lively tune. Excitement flowed through her veins and Kate was certain she could dance a hundred times with Micah without feeling any ill effect.
The dancers moved in a circle, trading partners as the steps required. As the dance came to an end, she rejoined Micah, and he spun her around in the final step. The minstrels finished the tune with a burst of music and Micah pulled her close, his body pressing intimately against hers. He gazed down at her, his blue eyes richer in color than the sapphire she wore. His fingertips brushed her cheek and for an instant a web of energy bound them together and caught Kate firmly in its grip. It called to her like a siren’s song and she knew she could never refuse it. Micah had not only rescued her from MacLeary, he had rescued her heart as well.
Kate almost lost herself in his enchanting gaze, but somehow, movement behind Micah caught her eye and tore her attention away. The stable boy, Tobin, approached silently.
Kate was about to reprove him for interrupting his baron and baroness when a chill crawled down her spine. Tobin’s dark–eyed gaze turned hard and for a heartbeat, Kate felt the presence of death in the hall. Time seemed to slow. She sucked in her breath to shout as Tobin closed the distance to Micah’s back.
Light flashed on a metal blade.
Without warning, Micah stiffened and spun, right as Kate managed a cry of alarm. His arm flew up in instinctive defense.
The blade flashed again as Tobin attacked and crimson spattered Micah’s tunic.
Pandemonium exploded in the hall. Time abruptly righted itself and spun around Kate with dizzying speed. Micah bellowed in pain and fury, Tobin’s dagger embedded in his right shoulder.
The warrior within Micah answered. His left hook slammed into Tobin’s jaw and snapped the lad’s head back.
The bloody dagger clattered on the stone floor.
Tobin scrambled backward as Micah took another step toward him. John and Hubert stopped his flight and seized his arms.
Micah took a third step and Kate thought he planned to kill the boy. But he hesitated, his left hand covering his bleeding shoulder, and snarled a curse of pain. He bent awkwardly and Kate flew to his side.
“Let me see it,” she said urgently, ripping away the sleeve of his tunic.
Micah gazed down at her, his blue eyes flinty and his mouth pressed in a hard line.
“My lady,” Tobin screeched. “Stay away from him. He will kill you.” He struggled futilely against John and Hubert.
Silence descended on the hall. Kate spun to stare at Tobin, her eyes wide with shock and fear.
“Lady, please,” he shouted. “Sarah had a vision and saw your death by the Baron’s hand. ‘Tis why he had her killed. He knows of your plan, lady, flee while you can.”
“Silence, dog!” Micah roared. “I should kill you where you stand. John, Hubert, toss his arse in the dungeon.”
The two men dragged Tobin away.
“Lady,” he screamed. “Heed my warning!”
Kate’s mind reeled with confusion. What was Tobin talking about? His shouts grew muffled as John and Hubert hauled him through the kitchens. The door to the dungeons slammed closed, silencing his voice completely. Kate turned her attention back to her wounded husband. She could worry about the boy’s words later.
Micah’s expression remained furious but he allowed Kate to guide him to his chair. A servant brought her some bandages and her herb bag.
The guests stood back, wide–eyed, their whispers rippling through the hall. Kate was grateful the dagger had hit on the outside of Micah’s shoulder, burying into the heavy muscle on his arm. The damage could have been much worse if it had struck Micah’s chest. She shivered and started cleaning the wound.
Micah seized his wine cup with his left hand and drank deeply, his limbs still shaking with fury.
“I will need to stitch this closed,” Kate said softly. “Shall we go upstairs?”
“Nay,” Micah growled. “It’s bad enough the sod ruined my new tunic. He will not send me cowering to my room nor destroy our Christmas on top of it.” Micah glanced at the minstrels. “Play, you fools! Everyone, dance. This is a revel, and by God, we’re going to continue it.”
Kate stared at him. Micah clung to his temper tenuously. Could she blame him? She wouldn’t be in a ple
asant mood if someone had shoved a dagger in her arm. Kate continued to clean the wound, trying to be as gentle as possible. Micah still bit back a few curses.
“I tried to warn you,” she said softly. “But it all happened so fast.”
“I know,” Micah replied, his expression easing slightly. “The flash of terror on your face told me I had best look to the rear.”
Her lips quirked at his choice of words and Micah took a deep breath, his anger fading. Kate threaded her needle and started to stitch the wound closed.
“One thing is certain,” Micah said. “After seeing this tunic, I know these stitches will be the best in all of Cumbria.”
Kate smiled at him and concentrated on her work.
“Baron,” Hubert said as he and John approached. “The knave is secured.”
Micah nodded then abruptly shook his head. “What in Heaven’s name is going on here?”
“I have no idea, Baron,” Hubert replied, his green eyes grave. “The boy kept screaming the same things over and over.”
Micah scowled, taking another drink of wine. He glanced around the room. “William come here.”
The boy sprinted over, his eyes wide and his face pale. He dropped to his knees before Micah. “Sir, you must believe me, I had no idea—”
Micah’s expression relaxed into a smile. “I believe you William. But can you think of anything which might give us some clues?”
The boy pondered for a moment then abruptly shook his head. “I only know Tobin visited Sarah often in the dungeons. You know how I feel about her.”
Micah scowled again. “The wench was certainly more trouble than she was worth.”
Kate finished the stitches and covered the wound with a bandage. “That should hold you together. We must be cautious of infection but the wound was relatively clean.”
Micah nodded and flexed his arm experimentally. “Thank you, Kate.” He stood and looked at John and Hubert. “This whole fiasco troubles me. I want to check the boy’s sleeping area.”
Kate sighed and sank into her chair as the three men walked away. She rubbed her eyes. What had Tobin meant? She glanced at the door Micah disappeared through then back at the revelers. The atmosphere grew thick with artificial merriment, but since Micah had left, it was her responsibility to see to their guests. Kate took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, hoping her stomach would stop hurting.
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