Champion of the Heart

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “Would you like some?” Jordan asked.

  Mary Kate looked at her and then looked at the food. She nodded.

  A head full of knots and brambles. Jordan was sure of it from the looks of the child’s matted hair. Poor girl, she thought. She obviously has no one to take care of her.

  Jordan picked up the bread and struggled to tear a piece off. It was so hard she felt guilty giving it to Mary Kate, but the poor thing looked so hungry. She held it out to Mary Kate and the girl practically snatched it from her hand.

  Jordan watched her gnaw at the hard bread. “Didn’t you eat this morning?” she asked.

  Mary Kate shook her head. “There wasn’t enough,” she answered around a mouthful of bread.

  Jordan looked down at the trencher of porridge. There wasn’t enough for a child? She pushed the trencher toward Mary Kate. “You can have it. I’m not that hungry.”

  Mary Kate lifted rounded eyes to Jordan. She inched closer on the bed and reached out a hand to take the trencher.

  Jordan grinned at her, but there was no warmth in her smile. Not enough food. She saw how thin the girl was. “You should eat every day, Mary Kate,” she told her softly.

  “I know,” she said. “Fox told me I have to or I might get sick again. But my mother needs to eat more than I.”

  Jordan clenched her teeth. What mother would deny her child food? But she knew no matter how cruel parents were, a child would always defend them, so she didn’t press the subject. “You were sick before?”

  Mary Kate nodded. “Once. I had the fever.”

  Jordan’s heart missed a beat. “The fever?” Maggie had the fever. It had killed her.

  Mary Kate nodded and put a piece of bread into her mouth. “Fox said I almost died.”

  Jordan stared hard at the girl, trying to mask her disbelief. How had Mary Kate not perished when Maggie had? “When?”

  “A little bit ago,” she said, concentrating on chewing the food.

  Jordan couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. “What happened?”

  Mary Kate lifted her large brown eyes to Jordan. “Fox got some herbs for me.”

  Jordan’s chest constricted as she stared at the girl and tears welled in her eyes. Fox had stolen Maggie’s herbs to save Mary Kate. Jordan covered her mouth and turned away to hide her incredulity. Maggie’s life for Mary Kate’s. Fox hadn’t done it to get back at her, or take vengeance on Evan. He had stolen them to save Mary Kate’s life.

  Damn you, Fox Mercer, she thought. You aren’t the cold-hearted outlaw you pretend to be, are you? There’s still some of the Fox I knew inside you somewhere.

  “Are you all right?” Mary Kate asked.

  Jordan slowly looked back at Mary Kate, but found the strange mixture of relief and sorrow left her unable to speak. All this time, Jordan had thought he stole the herbs for some selfish, vengeful reason, perhaps even to spite her. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

  With a saddened heart for Maggie, Jordan knew she would have done exactly what Fox had to save one of her children.

  Suddenly, there was a tugging at her elbow. Jordan lowered her gaze to find Mary Kate sitting beside her. The child lifted one of her hands and held out a piece of bread to her.

  Jordan smiled and laughed. She wanted to embrace the little girl, but held back her emotions because she didn’t know what would happen if she let them loose. Maggie died so this little girl sitting so innocently before her could five. Was her life more important than Maggie’s? Did her life justify what Fox had done?

  Jordan did not know the answers, and she knew she would never have an answer that would put the questions to rest. Instead, she took the bread from Mary Kate and gently stroked her knotted hair.

  She had misjudged Fox. As he had her. Perhaps there was still time... to make a friendship.

  ***

  The fire in the hearth of the Harvest Moon Inn was slowly dying, the final flames nothing more than weak sputters. Outside, visible through a small window in the wall near the hearth, the moon had long since risen in the sky and was well overhead.

  “Where is the varlet?” Evan whispered to a man sitting at a table behind his. “It is almost midnight.” His gaze swept the room imperiously.

  The innkeeper was leaning against the doorframe of a rear room, almost falling asleep. Another one of Evan’s men sat alone at a far table, clutching a mug of ale in his hand. Behind him sat a group of hooded monks -- monks who wore chain mail beneath their robes. They were his men as well, all waiting to spring the trap. They had arrived well before dusk, the scheduled meeting time.

  But the Black Fox had yet to arrive.

  One of the monks threw back the last drops of ale in his mug and then stood, moving toward the door. Evan watched the man step outside and then thought of doing the same thing. It had been hours since he had relieved himself, and his bladder was full from all the ale he had consumed. But he quickly dismissed the thought. He would take no chance on missing the Black Fox’s arrival, no matter how slim that chance might be.

  The logs in the hearth sputtered again, growing ever weaker as the minutes passed, until the last flame spit out a final spark and then died completely. Gray-white smoke drifted up from the charred embers.

  “He is not coming,” Evan finally announced and stood up.

  A small boy rushed into the inn, but Evan paid him no mind. He began to pace before the cold hearth. The insolent cur, Evan thought. Coward.

  The boy stopped at his side. “Excuse me, sir, but are ya Sir Vaughn, strongest knight in all of England?”

  Evan looked down at the boy as he nearly knocked him over in his pacing. “What boy? What do you want?”

  The boy repeated his question. “Are ya Sir Vaughn, the strongest knight in all of England?”

  A bemused grin came to Evan’s face. “Yes, lad. That would be me.” The boy held out a piece of parchment. Evan’s brow furrowed. He took the parchment and unfolded it. His eyes darkened as he read.

  Vaughn -

  Your troops cannot fool me, even hidden beneath monk’s garb. By your own actions, you force Jordan to remain with me. Mercer lands and the restoration of my father’s title in exchange for your future wife.

  That is the one and only offer I make you. Thanks for the ale, old friend.

  Friar Fox

  Jordan is quite beautiful, isn’t she?

  Evan shook with anger and fear. The monk! Fox had been sitting amongst his men. He was the monk who had left. And now that Evan pondered it for a moment he suddenly recalled the monk had never returned to the inn. Fox had been sitting right under his nose for hours.

  With a snarl, he crumbled the parchment and hurled it into the hearth. But the note did not burn. It sat atop the cold remains of the fire, taunting him.

  The thought of Jordan even standing in the same room with Fox enflamed his senses. And the image of Fox looking at her with lust-filled eyes drove him mad with rage. Evan clenched his teeth so hard he heard his jaw crack under the angry force of it.

  I will kill you with my own hands, Fox Mercer, Evan vowed. Next time we meet, you will die.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jordan had discovered ink and a quill on the table in Fox’s room and was using another piece of her ragged skirt hem as parchment to write a note. “Baked in the oven for too long,” she mumbled to herself, concentrating on printing the letters. She leaned over the small table and struggled with the makeshift parchment. It was hard to write anything on the fabric, let alone a coherent note to the cook. “You need help with the –” Suddenly, the door swung open. Jordan jumped and hit the inkwell. It teetered and she shot a hand out, just missing the small jar as it fell over. The black ink spilled across the piece of cloth, smearing most of the words she had written. She grabbed the torn fragment of material and shoved it behind her back.

  When she stood and looked up, Fox was standing in the doorway, his gaze locked on her. Jordan squared her shoulders and faced him.

  He shut
the door softly and turned back to her.

  Her hand tightened convulsively around the fabric as dread shot through her. The spilled ink soaked through the cloth to her fingers.

  Fox stalked toward her, grimly silent as he approached. He stopped in front of her, glanced at the spilled inkwell on the table, then slowly shifted his gaze to bore into her eyes.

  She felt like a deer trapped in the path of a marksman’s arrow. Her hand seemed to move of its own accord, appearing from behind her back, holding the fabric out to him in an open palm. Dark ink stained the tips of her fingers. Fox took the ragged piece of cloth from her and opened it. His scowl deepened as he read her words, and then he simply grunted in disgust as he tossed the cloth to the table. “Again you seem to prove your word means nothing,” he declared.

  Jordan frowned at his remark. “My word? I was just giving your incompetent cook a piece of advice. He obviously –”

  “Liar!” Fox snapped, taking a threatening step toward her.

  Jordan put her hands protectively across her chest and took a step away from him, shocked by his outburst.

  “Every time you open your mouth nothing but lies comes out!” Fox spat. “You and your betrothed were meant for each other!”

  “What are you talking about? You don’t know what you’re saying, Fox.”

  Fox grabbed the cloth she had written on and thrust it toward her. “You have the nerve to lie to my face and tell me I don’t know what I’m saying?” Fox pushed the cloth even closer to her, as if daring her to take it.

  Jordan took the cloth and looked at it. Two words caught her attention immediately, the only two words not smeared beyond recognition. Need help. She read the words again, and then glanced up at Fox’s enraged face. “It’s not what you think, Fox. I was writing a note to your cook. I was –”

  Fox snatched the cloth from her. “Do you think my men would help you escape? Your noble life of luxury has grown mold on your brain.”

  “I was not pleading for help to escape,” Jordan shot back. “I was trying to give your fool cook a little advice! His bread is harder than a rock! But now I think you are the one who needs a little advice.”

  “And do you expect me to listen? Do you expect me to care about what you have to offer me? The only thing you offer me are lies and deceit. You and Vaughn belong together. I can see that now.”

  Jordan grew silent as rage flared in Fox’s eyes. But there was something else behind his anger – disappointment. “Fox, believe what you like, but I am telling you the truth. I was writing a note to your cook because I felt bad for Mary Kate. The poor girl won’t have any teeth left by the time she is ten years old.”

  Fox suddenly unclenched his fist and let the cloth fall to the floor at his feet. He kicked at the piece of fabric, pushing it away from him, then took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  Jordan studied Fox in the long stretch of silence that followed. Something else was wrong. She could tell by the troubled furrow on his brow. “What is it?” she finally asked. “What’s happened?”

  He glanced up at her. “As if you couldn’t guess.”

  Jordan did not rise to his goading.

  “Vaughn set a trap for me.”

  Jordan’s eyes raked him with concern. But she saw no wounds, no blood. “Which you obviously escaped unharmed.”

  Fox nodded, moving into the room away from her. ”As I have many times before, including escaping from a clever trap that almost snared me in the glen near a farmer’s house.”

  Jordan looked away from him. That had been the trap she set for him, the trap that had captured one of his men. The trap that had started all of her misery.

  “It never occurred to me it wasn’t Vaughn who set that trap. I know he’s been after me for years. But after his pathetic attempt to capture me tonight, I know now he is not capable of coming up with such an ingenious plot.”

  Fox approached her again until he stood a mere foot away. Jordan refused to look at him. “Don’t underestimate Evan. He is more dangerous than you can imagine.”

  Fox ignored her warning. “I saw you there near the farmer’s house.”

  Jordan looked up at Fox, as if compelled by his sharp gaze. His blue eyes were locked on hers, capturing the essence of her soul and reflecting it back. “Yes, I was there.” She could feel his body close to her, feel the power radiating from him. Strange, warm tingles danced across her flesh, moving all over her body.

  “What would a lady of such grand nobility be doing waiting with a group of dirty, sweating soldiers to ensnare a fox?” he wondered in a soft tone, his voice a silky caress.

  Jordan watched the way his lips formed each word. “Why do you care?” she asked softly.

  He reached out a hand to smooth back a curl of hair from her cheek.

  The touch sent a shock of pleasure through her entire body.

  “Once, and only once, have my men and I been outsmarted. I would know who, exactly, is my most worthy adversary. It apparently is not the fool Vaughn.”

  Jordan swallowed hard. “Evan is a master in battle. Who else could have thought of such an elaborate plan?” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as shaky to Fox as it did to her.

  A sly grin touched Fox’s lips, and Jordan almost collapsed with shock. Just the merest hint of amusement on his face, just the slightest touch of happiness on his lips made his already handsome face that much more appealing. If he ever turned a full-fledged smile on her, could she resist his charm?

  “Who indeed,” he murmured. His gaze swept her slowly and she felt invisible fingers behind his look, fingers touching her face, her neck, her breasts. His gaze dipped lower, and the invisible fingers followed his heated look.

  Jordan quickly escaped to the window, throwing open the shutters, hoping the cool breeze would restore her composure, help her regain some measure of her senses. She chewed her bottom lip softly.

  Fox approached her again. “I see you still chew your lip when you’re nervous,” he said with a quiet laugh. “At least one thing I remember about you hasn’t changed so drastically over the years.”

  Immediately, she stopped toying with her lip and turned to look at him, unnerved that he could read her so well.

  “It was you, Jordan, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  Jordan didn’t know how to respond. If she denied it, he would see through her facade. If she admitted it, would he take out his anger on her right here? She opened her mouth to respond, but Fox pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her.

  “Only you can set a trap that almost captured me,” he whispered.

  Suddenly, guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. She reached up and took his hand into hers, pulling his finger away from her lips. “Yes,” she admitted in a breathy sigh.

  “Why, Jordan?” Fox asked. “What do you want from me that you haven’t taken already?”

  Her body began to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. “You stole the herbs I needed so badly. I wanted to punish you for killing Maggie. Those herbs were meant for her.”

  Fox froze. “Killing Maggie?” he echoed weakly, his voice trailing off. “I didn’t... I... Mary Kate needed those herbs. She had the fever. She would have died...” Fox looked away from Jordan, taking his hand away from hers. He curled his fingers into a tight fist and clenched his teeth hard.

  Silence stretched between them. Jordan could clearly see the pain her news had caused him. It was glaringly obvious he hadn’t known the herbs had been intended for her. The immediate agony and sorrow on his face was too genuine.

  “Jordan, I... I didn’t know.” Fox closed his eyes tight and stood motionless for a long moment. “Who was she?” he finally asked.

  Jordan could hear the tremor in his voice as he battled for control of his emotion. “She... Maggie was an orphan. She came down with the fever suddenly, and we tried everything to bring her temperature down, but we couldn’t.”

  Fox nodded knowingly.

  Her mind conjured up images of the rest of her children. S
he could see John as plain as day, smiling at her with joy as she handed him a wooden sword. Jason jumping up and down, barely able to stand still. Kara bending to pick the wildflowers. Ana swiping a lock of her dark hair from her eyes as she cleaned the dishes. And Emily. Little Emily. She could almost hear her laughter, could almost feel her hands around her neck. A million questions about how they were doing, what they were feeling flashed in her mind. “Fox, you have to let me go.” More tears welled up in Jordan’s eyes. She missed her children so much.

  His hand moved to the nape of her neck and he pulled her to his chest. Jordan leaned into him, letting him soothe her, letting him embrace her.

  Fox wrapped his arms around her and held her for a long time. “I cannot let you go, Jordan. Not until I finish what I have started.”

  Jordan felt more tears flood her eyes. She knew what his answer was going to be before he spoke it. The determination burning in his eyes every time she looked into them never wavered. The children would have to continue without her. She prayed Abagail would have enough strength to take care of them.

  “Vaughn will not give me back my lands,” Fox whispered into her hair. “But there is one way I can get lands and a title.”

  “How?” Hope seared through her chest.

  He pushed her back to look into her eyes, and Jordan felt an unwanted chill come between them as their bodies separated. But the words he spoke next sent a rush of heat throughout her entire body.

  “I can marry you,” he stated.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Fox stared into Jordan’s eyes. For a moment, he thought he saw a curious flash of happiness. But in an instant, it was gone. Jordan pulled away from him, her fists clenching in rage.