Warriors Of Legend (37 page)

He was wrong to think she cared. Micah stood as Kate’s protector, the knight who had freed her, her husband by a constrained marriage, nothing more.

Kate shifted in his arms. His lips touched her temple, feeling the soft warmth of her skin.

Micah thought himself nothing to her. He was the man who tried to take her home away after MacLeary nearly destroyed her.

Her silky hair caressed his face. He nuzzled her ear and her arms tightened around him.

He had given her nothing, no lands, not even an honorable name.

Micah’s tongue traced the soft curves of Kate’s ear, and moved down the side of her neck. She moaned softly, relaxing against him.

“Micah,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the sweeping line of his cheek.

In that instant, a tiny part of him knew. Kate had spoken the truth the eve of his drunken bonfire. She had wanted to marry him not to save herself from the convent but because she cared about him.

Micah kissed her throat with a gentleness and a reverence he never knew he possessed. His fingers untied the laces of her dress just as she fumbled with his belt and tunic. Micah freed them of their clothes then eased her back on the bed. He covered her with his body, pushing her into the softness of the bed, keeping her safe.

Micah’s lips traced across her collarbone. Kate’s fingers threaded through his hair. The black locks trailed across her breast, a vibrant contrast to her pale skin. Her nipple pearled and for an instant he marveled that the simple touch of his hair made her body react. He forgot the random thought as he took her breast in his mouth. She gasped, her hands tightening in his hair.

Softly, gently, he swirled his tongue around the vibrant bud, feeling it peak so wonderfully in his mouth. Her skin was smoother than any silk he had ever touched. His hands caressed her, savoring every curve, every line of her sweet form.

Desire flourished within Micah, warm and glorious, stirring his loins as he released one breast only to capture the other. His passion was no longer a ragged, clawing, primitive thing like before. He longed to make slow, healing love to Kate, to soothe her fears, and bring peace to her heart.

Micah’s fingers slid down the inside of Kate’s thigh, she trembled in anticipation. Her moans turned to soft murmurs of his name. Her hands explored the power of his body. He touched her intimately and she froze underneath him. He stroked her lightly, not prodding her to greater heights but comforting her into relaxation. She moaned again, her body unclenching completely under him. Her legs opened slightly as he continued to touch her. He released her breast long enough to look down at her. She closed her eyes, and her body responded to his touch.

Her femininity was hot and wet but Micah simply fondled her gently. Just as Kate’s hands had once eased the pain and tension from his body, so did he with hers. He lightened his touch purposefully. She stiffened and her throaty moan surprised him. He watched her body as his fingers worked. Was it possible? Could he bring her to fulfillment with the softest of caresses?

A tremor moved through her and she opened herself even more but Micah did not alter his purpose. He watched while she became a slave to her own body. Kate stiffened, clawing at the sheets as the tempest seized her. Good glory, she was beautiful in the throes of her fulfillment. Micah’s need throbbed within him but this was so much different than before.

Kate settled into a dreamy contentment and Micah moved to kiss her thigh. The scent of her, strong and heady, filled him. He lightly nipped her other thigh, closer to his goal. Still she did not move, never realizing his intent.

He kissed her, his tongue tracing her soft folds. The taste of her…finer than any wine, sweeter than honey. She gasped, startled, and trembled under him. He devoured her, stroking his tongue across the hard nub he found in a slow, even rhythm. Her hips moved in time with his mouth. She stretched her arms above her head and arched her back…magnificent…glorious.

This time he prodded her to greater heights but gently, slowly. With sweet abandon she achieved them. He could no longer ignore his body. Micah moved, kissing Kate’s flat stomach, then capturing her breast in his mouth once more. His need was a fierce thing compared to her innocently honest responses. He entered her slowly as if approaching a most sacred place.

He answered her moans with one of his own as he filled her, molding her flesh to his, joining their bodies in glorious passion. He flexed within her and her hips rose to meet him. Her arms and legs wrapped around him as if she suddenly protected him, holding him tenderly within the depths of her body. He thrust again into her, reveling in the sweet peace that descended on him. His tempo increased but it still did not match the intensity of the past.

The inexorable demand of release built within him. He touched Kate’s face and she opened her eyes. Dusky charcoal, her eyes locked him in her gaze. He cupped her face in his hands. Another tremor rocked through her.

“Look at me,
ma chérie
,” he murmured. “Do not close your eyes.”

Her body convulsed again but her eyes remained on his. He pushed harder within her and suddenly realized how difficult his command was to obey. Kate’s eyes sparked like silver stars as the final wave took her. Her nails dug into his back, and her legs tightened around him. She whispered his name, her gaze reaching straight to his heart.

Reasoning abandoned him and pure ecstasy roared through his body with brilliant fire. His eyes never left hers. Like Kate’s fulfillment, his surged through him, intense but deeply serene. Micah offered all of himself and bound Kate to his soul.

He collapsed on top of her, once again struggling to breathe. A peace he could not define, settled in his heart. The pain from his past released its terrible claws from his soul. He knew he had made a truly important discovery but his muddled brain could not comprehend it.

With a reluctant groan, Micah rolled onto his back and tucked Kate securely next to him. She tensed for a moment. Micah held her close and kissed her. He stroked her hair and face with his fingers. Kate slowly relaxed, curling her leg over his and wrapping an arm around his waist. She kissed his neck and settled closer. Her breath caressed his skin, warm and sweet.

Micah closed his eyes, his hands lightly stroking her. He continued to explore her body with well–sated enjoyment. He delighted in holding her, reveling in the aftermath of their passion. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered why he had never truly appreciated this before.

***

Micah discovered a new relationship with Kate over the next few weeks. On the morning of Christmas Eve, he awoke before dawn. His health and strength had returned. Micah’s attention focused on the new quietness in his heart. Since making love to Kate just after his recovery, the change had descended on him and remained although he was uncertain why.

Yet after the past two years, Micah welcomed the peace. He found himself taking pleasure in simpler things, especially if something he did brought a smile to Kate’s lips. Still, Micah marveled at himself. Did he act like a dandy just because of Kate?

He chuckled, and once again left Kate sleeping soundly in his bed. Micah dressed, intending to enjoy the dawn of a new morning before he turned his attention to the Christmas celebration planned at Appleby. The lords under Appleby’s protective shadow would celebrate the holy day with their new baron and baroness.

Micah donned his heavy cloak and left the keep. The icy air caressed his face. His breath plumed before him and his boots crunched loudly in the snow. Micah wandered the bailey noting the men on guard duty maintained their vigilance around a small fire.

He glanced up and saw clear skies, the bright stars shining like frosty diamonds. The eastern horizon glowed a slightly brighter blue than the rest of the deep indigo blanketing the earth. Appleby’s towers stood as dark monoliths, with the faint outline of scaffolding surrounding them. The repairs took longer than Micah wished, not only because of the weather, but also because he converted the towers to stronger round ones instead of square.

As he gazed at Appleby’s towers, Micah eagerly anticipated the future before him. A future at Appleby with Kate as his wife.

Love, home and a family.

Perhaps his dreams did exist.

A shadow of movement on the scaffolding turned his pleasant thoughts into concern. Did the guards patrol the platforms? In this weather, the scaffolds iced as slick as a frozen lake and were just as dangerous – Micah had discovered that first hand when he almost fell. He moved quickly to the fire where the guards warmed themselves.

“Serjant,” he called to the ranking man at arms.

The man jerked around, paling when he saw Micah. “Baron, what’s wrong?”

“Have you men up on the towers?” Micah pointed; a second shadow joined the first.

“Nay,” the serjant replied. He drew his sword and barked at his men. “To arms!”

The guards lunged toward the construction. The rally cry echoed through the bailey and awakened the entire keep. Micah grabbed an extra sword and followed his men. They climbed the ladders like squirrels up a tree.

The shadows ahead scrambled faster. Micah closed the distance, able to discern two heavily cloaked figures, the first much larger than the second. He scowled. In fact, the second looked like a very young woman.

Sarah!

Rage cut through Micah. Who dared to defy him and free the woman who had tried to kill him?

MacLeary.

The two shadows tried to use the scaffolding on the towers to clear the walls. Since Micah ordered Appleby’s gates locked every night, the platforms proved the only way out of the bailey. Danger hounded every step, not only for the two people trying to flee but for Micah’s men in pursuit.

He heard John’s familiar shout in the bailey and paused. Hubert stood next to him, his bow strung.

“Someone tries to free Sarah,” Micah bellowed.

John directed more men at arms, sending them out through the gate. Micah nodded in satisfaction. The escape would soon be cut off but it would take time for his men to sprint from the gate around to the tower.

“Hold!” Micah barked. His men on the construction stopped and the two shadows paused. “There’s nowhere to go,” Micah shouted at the shadows. “Cease this foolishness and I will let you live.”

The larger shadow moved closer to Sarah. In the growing light of the morning sky, Micah saw his features in greater detail. His face appeared brutally handsome, with a neatly trimmed beard. His dark eyes chilled Micah. Dread settled over his spirit and made his skin crawl. The man seemed vaguely familiar.

“You are a fool, Baron,” Sarah screeched at him. “Appleby is cursed, you and your dogs will fall to it.”

“Your curse failed, Sarah. Despite your treachery, I am still alive.”

The man behind Sarah moved. Micah’s hackles raised when he saw the flash of a dagger. The man lifted his hand to throw it at Micah.

“Baron!” Hubert bellowed.

Micah instinctively ducked and he heard an arrow buzz past his head.

“Nay!” Sarah screamed.

Micah looked up to see Sarah teetering with Hubert’s arrow in her chest. The man held her to him. “This is not over, Montfort,” he bellowed. The man jumped from the platform and both he and Sarah plummeted over the other side of the wall.

“Dear God,” Micah whispered and lunged down the scaffolding. He jumped the last few feet and sprinted to the gates with Hubert and John next to him.

“The wench took the arrow for him,” Hubert snarled, his expression thunderous.

They ran through the gates and followed the guards charging toward the base of the wall. The men stopped, hovering in a circle. Micah pushed his way through.

Sarah’s body, with Hubert’s broken arrow, lay sprawled in the snow, a grisly sight of blood and shattered bone. But Micah saw no sign of the man.

“God’s teeth,” Micah snapped. “How did he survive?”

Hubert immediately shoved the men back, scouring the ground for clues. “Here,” he barked. “He made for the woods. He is hurt but still able to make a good pace.” Hubert shouldered his bow and grabbed a torch from one of the men. He took two steps before Micah stopped him.

“Hubert, wait for us to gather some horses.”

“No time, Baron.” The young huntsman curled his lip. “Praying your pardon, sir, this one is mine.” He turned and sprinted into the darkness.

“John,” Micah said. “Send some men after him. I don’t want Hubert going after this man alone. Then you and I are going to figure out how the sod freed Sarah. Fetch William and Tobin.”

“Aye.” John barked orders to the men.

Micah’s gaze returned to Sarah. “Foolish girl,” he muttered, then turned for the gates.

***

The cry of alarm through the keep startled Kate awake. She sat up, not really surprised to find Micah out of bed. Quickly, she donned a chemise and a robe but paused as her stomach rolled. Abruptly, she had to grab a bucket as her guts tried to turn inside out. Kate collapsed and retched violently.

Finally, she gulped a couple of deep breaths as her stomach calmed slightly. What was wrong? Had she caught a fever? Kate felt awful and for a brief moment feared someone managed to poison her. Then she remembered the day and horror cut through her. Sweet Mary, nay, not that. For a wild instant she almost hoped for poison.

As Kate counted the days, she knew.

Micah’s child grew within her.

Pain cut through her, stabbing her heart. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Micah would be furious when he found out. Why now? Just when things improved between them. She had taken every step possible to stave off the breeding but she had failed.

Kate hauled herself up and staggered through the door. She kept her herb bag locked in the kitchens since the attempt on Micah’s life. She descended the stairs. The event outside had everyone in the middle of it, the keep was deserted. Kate no longer cared. She did not hear sounds of battle or more shouts of alarm. It was probably already over.

Kate entered the kitchens and grabbed her herb bag, staring at it. She still possessed one option but it also posed a risk to her wellbeing.