Her Knight in Tarnished Armor: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kerrigan Byrne

  “Do you love this woman, Niall?”

  Niall wasn’t surprised that Ronan would ask him such a question at this dark hour, and he didn’t hesitate to answer. “Aye. I didn’t think it possible after Caitlin…but I see now that wasn’t love at all. A dream. An obsession. I’ve never known a woman with a truer heart than Nora—by God, Ronan, I will not lose her!”

  He lunged in fury from the chair even as Ronan rose beside him to clasp his shoulder. “You will not lose her, Niall. We will prevail. Now go home! The woman you love awaits you there.”

  Niall was already striding for the door while Ronan came behind him.

  Aye, they both had women they loved more than life waiting for them at home!

  14

  It wasn’t the whisper of her name at her ear that woke Nora, but the tender kiss at her temple that made her open her eyes.

  “Niall…” So glad to see him, she flung her arms around his neck as he found her mouth to kiss her with an intensity that took her breath away.

  She kissed him back with equal measure, so thankful he was home, so grateful to feel him crushing her against him as if he would never let her go.

  Finally he did release her, though, to stand beside the bed while he pulled her up so she was seated facing him. His smile thrilled her heart as his gaze swept her shirt and trousers.

  “I leave you with Triona and look what she’s done. Made a wild hellion of you just like when she first came to Glenmalure!”

  Nora knew he was teasing her and she launched herself from the bed into his arms, his mouth finding hers again.

  She could not say how long they kissed so breathlessly, but she felt lightheaded, her heart pounding when he released her to gaze into her eyes.

  “Miss me?”

  “Oh, aye, Niall!” She stared back at him, drinking in the sight of his handsome face in the flickering lamplight though he did look tired. The reality behind his fatigue came flooding back to her then, and suddenly stricken, she cast down her eyes. “I’m so sorry, husband. So very sorry about the ring. It once belonged to my sister Kristina…and must have slipped out of the pouch—”

  “Shh, wife, don’t trouble yourself about it any longer.” Niall’s forefinger lifted her chin gently so she faced him again. “No one blames you for anything, my love…and certainly not me.”

  She blinked, gazing into his eyes.

  My love.

  Her heart suddenly filled with such joy, she had no words to speak.

  Niall seemed content with no words between them, too, and drew her into his arms to hug her tightly, his hand cradling the back of her neck and his fingers entwining in her hair.

  For long moments she rejoiced in the strong, steady beat of his heart against her ear and his cheek resting atop her head, the two of them simply standing there holding each other.

  She felt the rise and fall of his chest at last as he sighed, and she sighed, too, feeling so bereft when he drew back from her. She swore she saw moisture in his eyes and her heart went out to him as she raised her hand to touch his face.

  “Niall, all will be well. It has to be—oh!”

  He had taken her hand in his strong one to bury an impassioned kiss in her palm. She felt him shudder even as she trembled…and then she was standing no more as he picked her up and laid her on the bed.

  He straightened, and she saw his hands shaking as he swiftly stripped himself of his sword belt and clothing, his eyes never leaving hers. It seemed within a moment he was naked and he joined her on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath his weight as he straddled her knees.

  He bent over her, his hands working fast to untie the leather cord at her waist and pull the trousers from her hips, her thighs, and then tug them from her feet and toss them to the floor. Still his eyes never left hers while she could but stare at him, her heart racing and her breath frozen in her throat.

  Yet she gasped when he went next for her shirt and slipped his warm hands underneath her camise to move up along her trembling belly, her ribs, her breasts to pull the two garments quickly over her head.

  Then she was naked, too, shivering beneath him as his gaze swept her, intense, hungry.

  “Woman, you are so beautiful to me. So beautiful…”

  Her throat closed with emotion, she could only watch as he raised himself above her to find her lips once more…kissing her so wildly, almost desperately that her heart raced even faster. Yet before she could reach up to tunnel her fingers in his hair, his mouth had moved to her throat, trailing heated kisses.

  Then to her breastbone, his hands covering her breasts to caress her there while his mouth found a swollen nipple to suckle hungrily.

  She closed her eyes and threw back her head, arching beneath him, but nothing prepared her for when he suddenly trailed his tongue down her abdomen to dip into her navel.

  He seemed intent upon kissing every inch of her, but when he moved even lower to the dusky woman’s hair at the heart of her thighs, she felt she could no longer breathe.

  Yet she was breathing, harder, faster, when he spread her legs and lowered himself between them to press his mouth there, spearing his tongue into her.

  She cried out as his mouth claimed her, her slick folds made only wetter as he suckled and teased the swollen nub she felt pulsing, throbbing, from his lips, his tongue.

  Her head thrown back, she tried to close her thighs but he held her fast. His hands cupped her bottom to draw her closer so he might delve his tongue into her that much deeper.

  Her body began to shake, her fingers twisting in the linen sheets. Suddenly, Niall raised himself over her again to balance himself upon one arm and guide his swollen shaft to the place where his mouth had been.

  She glanced down at the moment the silken tip of his flesh rubbed against her, the warm, slippery wetness of his shaft melding with hers as he slowly, oh so slowly, began to thrust himself into her.

  She watched him, trembling, mesmerized, as his thick hard length disappeared within her body, and then withdrew again, Niall’s breath coming harder, the muscles bulging in the arm supporting him.

  Only when he guided himself into her once more, his thumb flicking at the quivering nub now on fire from the slow onslaught of his flesh rubbing against her, did Nora throw back her head to scream.

  Yet she heard nothing, his ragged groan filling her mouth and silencing her as his powerful body came down upon hers, his thrusting hips catapulting her to a place she’d never been to before.

  Did she hear him cry out her name? That was her last conscious thought as her climax exploded over her. Wildly she clutched at his shoulders, her trembling legs bracing against his hard buttocks.

  Distantly she felt him drive himself into her and he was then shuddering, too, the fierce throbbing of his flesh making her scream into his mouth when a second climax gripped her.

  Oh God, oh God, oh God...

  Nora could not say at what moment she no longer lay beneath Niall but atop him as he rolled with her to the opposite side of the bed.

  Breathless, satiated, she could only collapse upon him as his arms flew around her to hug her against his sweat-slicked chest…once more his heartbeat thudding fast and strong and steady in her ear.

  “I love you, Nora O’Byrne. Love you…”

  Tears welling behind her closed eyes to hear the words she’d so longed for, Nora breathed brokenly, “I love you, Niall O’Byrne. My husband…my heart…”

  They must have dozed, even slept for a while…Nora oblivious to the passage of time until she fluttered open her eyes to find that Niall was no longer in the bed with her. Where…?

  Sharply drawing in her breath, she sat up only to spy him at the basin across the room splashing water upon his face as if to revive himself.

  “Niall?”

  He dried himself with a towel and then strode around the bed to her, pulling her into his arms to kiss her fiercely. Yet his embrace was all too brief, his expression somber as he drew back from her.

  “I m
ust go. It’s my turn with my clansmen at the gates.”

  “Ah, Niall, please take care! If anything should happen to you—”

  “All will be well, remember? It has to be.” He gathered her hands in his to kiss her fingers. “You must go back to sleep, wife. I’ll return before morning.”

  He left her so abruptly…as if forcing himself from her side, that her hands fell to her lap. She watched as he went to the other side of the bed to gather up his clothing and dress, his face grown all the more grim in the lamplight as he drew on his boots.

  Only when he had begun to fasten his sword belt around his waist did they hear a sudden loud pounding on the door of their dwelling-house. Drawing his sword, Niall gestured for her to remain in bed and then ran from the room.

  Her heart in her throat, Nora heard him throw open the door to one of his clansmen shouting, “Riders, Niall, approaching the gates!”

  Oh, God, no! Already Sigurd and his men were attacking the stronghold? She could no more stay in bed than she could calm the rampant beating of her heart. She flung aside the blankets and jumped out to retrieve her shirt and trousers, the nearest thing at hand.

  Niall must have left the door yawning open for she heard men shouting and a terrible commotion, and the thunderous pounding of horses’ hooves. Her hands shook as she dressed quickly, but took no time to pull on the shoes Triona had lent her and instead ran barefoot into the adjoining room.

  Nora didn’t stop running until she was out the dwelling-house door, where she came to a dead stop.

  The torchlit yard teemed with armed O’Byrne clansmen as they surrounded a group of at least thirty riders atop snorting horses lathered with sweat…not Norseman at all but what she swore must be Irish. As the massive inner gates closed behind them, a formidable-looking man with coppery hair dismounted from a huge roan stallion to stand in front of Ronan and Niall.

  “Donal MacMurrough, you’re welcome here among us!” she heard Ronan’s raised voice greet the man who stood as tall as him, while to Nora’s surprise suddenly Triona appeared as if out of nowhere at her side. She wore a white sleeping gown, her hair wild and disheveled as if she’d flown out of bed.

  “Nora…”

  Triona didn’t say more, and Nora could not fathom why her sister-in-law looked so stricken…not like Triona at all.

  Yet it was a flash of silky blond hair that drew Nora’s gaze back to the cluster of men and horses in front of the gates, a young woman of unsurpassed beauty breaking through the crowd.

  “Oh, Niall, I didn’t know that you’d even be here! Please forgive me…I beg you to forgive me!”

  With arms outflung, the young woman launched herself at Niall and he caught her…while Nora was certain she felt her heart suddenly break.

  Caitlin.

  15

  Niall was so stunned he didn’t know what to say, all words had fled him. He stared in disbelief at Caitlin as she pulled back to look at him, her lovely face flushed bright pink and her emerald eyes alight.

  “Oh, Niall, I’ve asked for weeks for my father to bring me here so I might speak with you and finally he relented! We rode from Ferns all day and even when it grew dark, I pleaded for him not to stop until we reached Glenmalure. We knew from Ronan only that you’d disappeared so I planned to wait with your family as long as it took until you returned—but you’re here!”

  Again she made to throw her arms around his neck, but Niall stepped back from her, her breathless torrent of words making no sense to him.

  Nothing made sense to him except that he’d glanced over his shoulder to see Nora standing in front of their dwelling-house with Triona…Nora looking so deathly pale as if the blood had drained from her face.

  “Lord MacMurrough…Caitlin, if you’ll give me a moment so I might fetch my wife.”

  “Y-your wife?” Her mouth dropped open, now it was Caitlin who appeared wholly stunned as she glanced from her now somber-faced father to Niall, who left them to stride toward Nora.

  Her gaze never left his face as he drew closer, and he could see at once from the rapid rise and fall of her breasts that she was finding it difficult to catch her breath. She looked so dumbstruck that he wanted nothing more than to crush her within his arms to reassure her, but that would have to wait.

  Triona appeared so taken aback as well that Niall could only imagine what she must be thinking. He held out his hand to Nora, not surprised to see how visibly she was shaking.

  In the next instant she looked horrified, too, as she glanced down at her clothing, and her bare feet, though she took his hand with trembling fingers. Niall said nothing but walked swiftly with her back to Caitlin, Donal MacMurrough, and their silent entourage, where he stopped and drew Nora against him, still clasping her hand.

  “Caitlin…Lord MacMurrough, if I may present my wife, Nora O’Byrne.”

  Nora looked at Caitlin and Caitlin blinked at Nora, the beautiful blonde’s green eyes welling with tears. No one said a word, the stronghold yard eerily silent but for the neighing of horses, crackling torches, and the awkward shuffling of feet as lightning streaked above them across the night sky.

  If not for a sudden clap of thunder that made everyone jump, Nora was certain they would all still be there staring uncomfortably at each other. Another brilliant flash of lightning followed by a second deafening clap sent everyone into motion, Ronan raising his voice in command.

  “Clansmen to your posts! Niall, it’s your watch! Donal, we face imminent attack on the morrow. You’re welcome to remain here for the night, but it’s best you ride home now to Ferns—”

  “Too late, Ronan,” the chieftain said, gesturing for the rest of his men to dismount from their horses. “As we rode to the gates, I spied movement against the hill. I thought mayhap some clan with a grudge against you…but apparently it’s far worse. I fear your enemy is here…or advance scouts at the very least.”

  A terrible sinking feeling gripped Nora as Niall turned to her, still clasping her hand. He looked so grim, his intense gaze holding hers.

  “Your trust is all I need right now, Nora. Go back to our home where I know you’re safe.”

  She nodded while Caitlin still stared at them, tears streaking the young woman’s pale cheeks, her soft sobs filling Nora with pity.

  As Niall released her hand to stride away, thunder crashed above them and jagged lightning lit up the dark sky. The next thing Nora knew Triona stood by her side as if to accompany her back to her dwelling-house, but she shook her head no.

  “Look after Caitlin. I’ll be all right.”

  Nora didn’t feel all right, but somehow she summoned the strength to move as Triona went to Caitlin. O’Byrne clansmen rushed forward to lead skittish horses to the stables while Donal MacMurrough ordered his own men to gather around him.

  “Aye, Donal, you and your men follow me to the feasting-hall and I’ll tell you all!” Ronan shouted as the sky suddenly opened up in a fierce torrent of rain.

  Nora was soaked to the skin by the time she reached the dwelling-house, but her wooden legs had prevented her from walking any faster.

  She felt numb. With rain-chilled fingers she went inside and closed the door behind her…and this time she did collapse to the floor.

  In the firelight, Ronan grimly faced men who had long been enemies of the O’Byrnes until two years’ past, the night unprecedented to have MacMurroughs within his stronghold and under his roof. Yet the moment he’d seen Caitlin among them as they rode through the gates, he had known this night would be unlike any other.

  What could be said, though? Everyone knew that Caitlin had spurned Niall…and now Niall had wed another, no matter under what circumstances. Ronan thought of Nora, pitying her, but then he forced away the image of her eyes widened with disbelief at seeing Caitlin rush into Niall’s arms.

  Damn it all, was it not enough that Sigurd Knutson’s men were already at their doorstep? The rest of his Norsemen and Magnus MacTorkil’s Ostmen soon to descend upon them? If the torrential ra
in continued, it might buy them another day or two but the threat of battle still loomed.

  Cursing vehemently under his breath, Ronan met Donal’s somber gaze as one of the most powerful chieftains in all of Éire and close ally of the Normans leaned forward to press him.

  “I urge you again, Ronan, send word to your brother-in-law Duncan FitzWilliam! He has heavy horse and armored knights! One look at such a force and Sigurd Knutson will think better of this folly and march straight back to Ostmentown, four hundred men or no!”

  “I will not!” Ronan’s roar echoed from the rafters, but Donal didn’t flinch or sit back in his chair. Instead he rose to stare fiercely down at him.

  “Like it or not, Ronan O’Byrne, Lord FitzWilliam is blood to you now that he’s taken Maire to wife. Family! Just as I am family to you through my niece Triona, though God knows, I would never have imagined such a thing was possible two years ago. You cannot do else but send word to him! Your clansmen are outnumbered! We’re outnumbered for I’m here with you now, aye, and my men and beloved daughter as well. Will your stubborn pride threaten us all?”

  Ronan clenched his jaw and looked away, his silence making Donal swear now, too, and turn in frustration to the freshly stoked fire in the massive hearth.

  Irish and Norman! The words echoing in his mind, his heart, Ronan clenched his fists as Triona’s lovely face appeared to him, Deirdre’s face, Maire’s face, Niall’s face, and Nora’s, too.

  If he bent this far and sent word to Longford Castle in Meath as Donal wished him to do, would it make him break? Or mayhap might he be strong enough to turn his back upon everything he’d fought for, everything he believed in…if only to protect the lives of the people he loved?

  “Aye, Donal, send two of your men to your stronghold in Ferns and I’ll send two of mine to Duncan FitzWilliam. We can spare no more. God help us that reinforcements reach us in time!”

  “Ah, Nora, no…” Triona whisked off her sodden cloak just inside the door, the rain still a driving deluge. She knelt down in her sleeping gown next to her sister-in-law who lay as if unconscious on the floor. “Nora, do you hear me?”