Agonizing grief spiraled up from the pit of her stomach, coiling around her heart. Kate curled into the corner of the divan wishing she could disappear. Reality proved a harsh judge. Her family had been murdered by MacLeary.
But Micah had brought all of that to an end. Now he was both savior and thief. He had rescued her from MacLeary only to take her home away. What could she do? If King Henry awarded her inheritance, Micah would depart with his men, leaving Appleby vulnerable to attack again; leaving her vulnerable.
But if Henry awarded the keep to Micah as promised, Kate would not be permitted to stay. Micah would probably send her to a convent. She would be trapped there as effectively as in the dungeon, haunted by her fear and her memory.
Kate couldn’t live like that. She did not wish to be alone any longer.
***
Micah handed Kate a cup of wine and was surprised when she drank almost half of it immediately. She looked so cold and fragile on the divan. He slowly sat next to her, searching for the words that would bring her out of the bastion she dove into. Her gray eyes, still wide with fear, reminded him of a lake at dawn, before the light struck the depths, and the water reflected the pale wash of the sky.
Kate’s skin was like the silk of moonlight without the marks of time. The bruises on her face had faded. Micah’s gaze followed a lock of her rich copper hair that trailed down the cream of her neck and settled in the hollow at the base of her throat. His fingers tingled as he closed his hands around his cup to keep from capturing the lock.
When Micah had held Kate in his arms, shaking and terrified, he had fought to control the heat roaring through his body. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to soothe her awful fear, to protect her, to calm her with his words and touch. He would stand between her and the gates of hell if need be.
Slowly, Micah reached out and wrapped his fingers around hers, trying to ease the death grip she had on her own arm. Kate looked up at him in surprise but said nothing. Her hand gradually relaxed as he tangled her fingers in his.
“Did my men cause you some offense?” While Micah did not wish to push Kate, he had to know what caused her fear. He needed to understand in order to help her.
Kate shook her head. “A memory…nothing more.”
Micah frowned. She had been staring at the great hall where his men drank and enjoyed themselves after a good practice. This would quickly become a fact of life as long as he stayed at Appleby. He could not have her terrorized every time. The poor girl would lose her sanity.
“Tell me what you remembered.” His voice was soft, coaxing.
Kate closed her eyes and shuddered.
Micah’s hand tightened on hers. He instinctively moved closer. “It’s all right, Kate.”
She gulped another drink of wine. “I remembered the night the MacLearys first claimed the castle.”
“What happened?”
“I was brought to the great hall. Men drank and celebrated as your soldiers were. The men…beat me…but my family…” Her voice broke and she took a deep breath. “MacLeary hanged my family…” The sentence ended in a choked sob.
Micah quickly set aside his wine cup and moved hers away. He pulled her to him and held her tightly. Her body quivered with grief and fear. Another sob escaped her.
“It’s all right, Kate,” he murmured, stroking her hair. Micah understood, all too well, how memories could haunt. Abruptly, Kate wept against his chest, her body shuddering with the power of her heartache. Micah’s spirit grieved when he realized he knew exactly the battle raging within her; he knew the strength of the sorrow threatening to tear her to shreds. Micah pulled Kate even closer, whispering soft reassurances, caressing her silken hair, and letting her cry.
When Kate’s sobs had faded to small pants for air, Micah’s hand cupped her cheek, her tears hot against his skin. Gently he lifted her face to look at him.
“Kate, I swear to you, MacLeary will not harm you again, not while I am still alive.”
She blinked in shock. “What?”
Micah brushed away a fresh tear as it trickled down her cheek. “I will not let him touch you again. No one will. That is my promise.”
Kate stared at him as if trying to make sure he was not toying with her. “But…my being alive has clouded your claim to Appleby.”
The bitter dregs of self–loathing coated his mouth. Micah swallowed reflexively and almost choked. Kate is terrified of me. He couldn’t blame her. During Kate’s year of captivity, no one had helped her. When Henry finally sent Micah, all he did was take her home away from her. Micah knew exactly how alone she was right now. Kate had no family and no one to turn to – no one but him. She needed an ally more than anything. That meant convincing Kate he bore no threat.
“Nay, Kate, I do not need Appleby.”
She frowned. “Then why fight for it?”
His lips lifted slightly. “Because the Scots had it. Remember, Kate, when I began my battle I thought all the Liulfs dead, slaughtered by MacLeary. I planned to avenge you, but now I’m glad to know that my battle actually saved a life instead.”
Kate’s shock was so great her face went blank of emotion. Micah regretted the tempest she suffered, along with his lie. As she regained control, the spark that returned to her eyes warmed his heart. Kate’s fingers tightened around his and the timid smile that appeared made everything worth it. Yet her smile did not erase the dusting of fear around her eyes. Micah knew he still had to deal with the terrible memory. Kate would have to face her fear or she would never be able to enter the great hall again.
He gazed at her face, beautiful in its perfection. Her lips looked soft and her skin was silken under his fingers. Micah’s body was alive with sensation. He felt Kate curved against him. Every part of him that she touched burned with a glorious fire. He sensed every breath, every movement, with painful awareness. Micah sighed softly, fighting the strange urge to crush his mouth against hers, to explore the taste of her, to discover the power of her spirit.
“You must understand,” he said, trying to distract himself from his rebellious body. “This terrible memory of yours is nothing more than that.” Micah touched a finger to her lips as Kate started to protest. He almost lost himself to the soft warmth of her skin. “Fear is very real,” he forced himself to say. “I shall not argue with that. However, there are ways to conquer it.”
Kate’s eyes were liquid as she looked up at him. “Will you help me?”
She spoke softly but Micah heard the scream of hope. “Aye,” he whispered. Slowly, achingly, he disengaged himself from Kate’s arms and stood. Micah extended his hand to her and waited.
Kate studied him. She straightened her shoulders like the gradual raising of a tower. Micah held his breath, knowing this marked her moment of decision. Would she be a victim of her fears or would she take the step to defeat them?
“Very well,” Kate said with firm conviction. She dashed away the remnants of her tears, deliberately took his hand, and stood.
Micah’s heart lurched and his hand closed around Kate’s gentle fingers. How could she have faith in him after he had been such a threat to her? He pulled her closer. Micah recognized Kate’s intelligence but now he witnessed pure courage. She had accepted his word and his promise without reservation – something he had hoped for, but not truly expected.
God help me, how I wish I could still have that kind of faith.
“Kate,” Micah said, trying to ignore the longing that plagued him. “I will not leave your side. Do you understand?”
“Aye,” she replied, her body shaking again.
Micah led Kate to the door before his actions were no longer in his control.
***
Kate, her arm firmly entangled with Micah’s, entered the hall. Again, her vision tunneled and a huge weight threatened to drive her into the floor. The stone walls seemed to close, crushing her under the awful oppressiveness. Kate couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see. She had to get out. The voices that roared in laughter mi
xed with the groaning of the timbers.
Evil reigned, a curse upon her home, and all who resided at Appleby would fall victim to it.
“Kate,” Micah said softly, jerking her attention back to him. “I enjoy sitting before the fire in the great hearth. Do you?”
Why wasn’t he afraid? Could he not sense the evil that pervaded the walls? Kate dug her heels into the unyielding stone.
But Micah continued forward, his arm did not release hers. If she did not move, he would drag her with him. He would drag her into death.
“The danger is only in your mind, Kate,” Micah whispered. “You must have faith in me.”
Kate closed her eyes. The terrible shouts rang in her ears. The door opened and the awful memories flooded through. She heard her mother’s screams. Screams that seared her soul…
…Kate and her mother hid in a storeroom. They huddled together in darkness, rats worrying their skirts, until the door flew open and the laird with his son stood before them. Stephan hovered behind, chuckling…watching. What MacLeary did to her mother…
…Kate lunged backward, stumbled, and nearly fell.
Micah’s arms wrapped around her and he trapped her against him. “Kate, I will not let anyone hurt you.”
She heard his heart beating in his chest, a slow and even pace. His strength surrounded her. How could it be that this man felt no fear? Did he not know the danger that awaited him?
Or perhaps he feared nothing.
A spark of hope shot through Kate’s terror, warming her heart. She looked up at the great knight before her. Either he was an absolute fool or there truly was nothing to fear.
Nothing about Micah’s presence bespoke foolishness. He would not waste his time or energy with that. But confidence radiated from him. Kate had just seen his skill working with his men, his ability to fight. If anyone could protect her it would be Micah de Montfort. Did he not say, only moments ago, that he would never allow MacLeary to touch her? He would not give his word lightly. She had to believe in him.
Kate took a hesitant step forward. Micah smiled down at her and her heart soared with the wonderful reward. He tucked her arm firmly under his. Slowly, he turned toward the hearth, and one step at a time, led Kate toward it.
If his men thought her strange they made no obvious gesture of it. They did not stare or comment. A few glanced in her direction and one or two bowed as she passed, then they moved out of the way.
***
Micah watched Kate closely. Never before had he so clearly witnessed the evidence of sheer terror on a person’s face. But Kate conquered her fear enough to step forward. His heart swelled in fierce pride. He had seen men foul themselves and run from battle, screaming. And they only confronted mortal men. Kate defied the bodiless ghosts of her memories – demons who would not fall under a sword. That fact Micah also knew first hand.
He lead Kate to a chair before the hearth and had her sit, then took his place, standing beside her, the position of guard. Micah waved a servant over and had him fetch a cup of wine. Kate took it with shaking hands and drank deeply.
Her gaze traveled over the men, who after acknowledging her arrival, ignored her. A few shot confused glances at Micah but he remained steadfast. He looked down at Kate and saw her eyes travel to the rafters.
“None of that,” he said gently and crouched next to her chair. Kate’s eyes locked on his and he smiled. “Keep your gaze on what is real.”
She nodded mutely, but her face turned whiter by the minute.
Micah knew he had to get Kate to concentrate on his men. He had to force her mind to acknowledge they were not MacLeary’s soldiers. Micah pointed to one of his knights. “That man there is Sir Thomas of Glastonbury. The cross around his neck is said to have a bone from Saint Peter in it.”
Kate blinked at him. “Really?”
Micah shrugged. “That’s what Thomas boasts. He says that while he wears it he is ‘Petros’ and I must agree, I have never seen him sway in battle.” He turned and nodded toward John. “You’ve already met John Warin, he’s my second in command and best friend.”
His gaze fell on Hubert the huntsman. He had long blond hair and merry green eyes. Hubert stood fit and powerful, a good man who enjoyed life and laughter. “Hubert also has his own talisman,” Micah said and gently took Kate’s hand in his. “He wears a medallion of Saint Hubert.”
“The patron saint of hunters and foresters?”
“Aye, lady. Hubert joined my army on the way here. He’s fantastic with a bow and he can track like a hound. Unfortunately, he’s always disappearing at the worst times. I can never find him when I need him.”
Kate swallowed hard, her eyes locked on Micah. Her fingers clutched at his hand and he gave hers a reassuring squeeze. Micah grinned up at her. “Hubert drives John to distraction. He will disappear and we search all over the place. Just when we are ready to give up, he walks up behind John and scares him witless.”
Kate’s lips actually lifted in an attempt to smile and Micah’s heart soared. Her courage amazed him. He spotted movement in the corner and his grin broadened. “The two lads over there,” he said and pointed, “are my squires. The tall boy with blond hair is William, he’s twelve. The dark haired lad is Roger, he’s ten. Both are more trouble than they’re worth.”
Kate watched the boys for a moment as they played a game of dice in the corner. Her brow blurred into a slight frown. “They do not seem troublesome.”
Micah relaxed considerably. Her voice, still unsteady, grew stronger. “I speak in jest, lady, they are very good lads. But, as all boys their age, they have an energy I cannot fathom.”
Kate’s smile returned, brighter than before. “That I can understand.” She uncoiled just a bit more and Micah watched her gaze travel over his men, returning most often to William and Roger. He wondered if she found the boys less threatening. Kate controlled her fear, but Micah did not wish to push her too far too fast. He stood and tugged her to her feet. “That’s enough for today, lady.”
Kate looked up at him startled but nodded.
Micah escorted her from the hall, noting as they walked past his men, she stepped closer to him. Micah allowed his hand to slip around her waist and pull her under the shelter of his arm. He enjoyed the feel of Kate’s body next to his, but told himself that his true reason gave her a sense of security. Micah had vowed no one would harm her again. He meant it.
They reached the foot of the stairs and Micah stopped. “Are you hungry?”
“Nay,” Kate said rubbing her temple. The stiffness seeped out of her and her shoulders slumped. “I’m just exhausted right now.”
“Then you should rest before Marjorie has my head on a platter.”
Kate smiled and Micah released her. She moved to the stairs and stopped. “Micah?”
“Aye?”
“Thank you.”
He grinned and bowed with a flourish. “I am happy to be of service.”
She returned his grin and walked up the stairs. Micah rejoined his men, feeling very pleased with himself.
Chapter Four
The next few days Micah escorted Kate on several pilgrimages to the great hall. She noticed many times his men were gathered but they always bowed politely and made no move to engage either of them in conversation. Kate did not know if Micah had instructed them not to or if they simply knew their leader well.
One evening, Micah brought her to the great hall and she was surprised to find it empty. This new situation terrified her more than the hall filled with people. In her mind, Kate could better hear the creak of the ropes and more clearly see the shadows of her family. She would have bolted if it had not been for Micah’s hand on her arm.
As always, he steadied her with his gentle voice and confident bearing. Micah escorted her to their chairs then moved a small table closer. Kate spotted a chess board.
“Do you know how to play chess?” he asked as he set up the pieces.
“A little,” she replied and gave him a shy smile.
“I am certain my brother only taught me enough so I could valiantly lose to him.”
Micah grinned, entrancing Kate by the way it brightened his face. Too much of the time she found him dour. She liked seeing his smile, even if it was a bit wolfish. Micah started explaining the game and Kate fought to concentrate on his words.
***
Micah was absolutely astounded as they played their game of chess. Kate not only learned quickly but had an excellent grasp of tactics and basic battle strategies. He sat back and admired her as she contemplated her next move. Unfortunately for Kate, his experience proved far greater. No matter her study of the board, he had still put her king in check.
Micah watched Kate, seeing her unguarded and intent. Her gray eyes glittered as she examined the board and her brow furrowed slightly. Kate was as beautiful as any woman Micah had ever seen and definitely the most courageous.
Her face was still much too pale but he realized as his gaze traveled over the delicate hollow of her cheek, she was regaining the weight she had lost.
“Ha!” Kate said and startled Micah. A deep flush rose on his face.
Kate’s hand moved with confidence and she took his queen with her knight. Micah blinked, amazed that he had not seen his error before. A strange feeling coiled in his belly. He had been surprised only by a few people and had learned his lessons well. Never had a woman played him for a fool.
Micah forced down his irritation, facing the truth. He allowed himself to be distracted by a beautiful woman and had made a critical error.
***
Kate’s smile of triumph faded when she saw the emotions play over Micah’s features. His jaw tightened, his nostrils flared slightly, and his blue eyes glittered dangerously. She swallowed hard and sat back.
“What’s wrong, Micah?”
Micah’s smoldering gaze jerked up from the board. He stared at her for a long moment then smiled ruefully. “Now I know why your brother didn’t teach you all of the rules. It is rather embarrassing when a lady beats you at your own game.”
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