Romantic Legends

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Men had souls, but war had a way of tearing apart one’s soul until it was so tattered there was nothing of it to be found. He had retained his… but barely. In truth, he was beginning to wonder if the dotty godmothers had chosen him to protect Winnie precisely because his soul was so obviously in danger. All the years of fighting had worn him down, and the death of his older brother and then his father in short succession had left him bitter.

  But how could those old ladies have known?

  “In some ways,” he said in a husky murmur, “you saved me. So I think we’re even.”

  “Hardly that. All I did was feed you some stew that I did not cook. So if we’re even, then I think you are too easily pleased.”

  There was a lively innocence about Winnie that he found compelling. How odd that she should be the one to bring him back from the brink, to make him feel and yearn to rekindle the hope and happiness that he thought was lost forever. “How do you feel now?” Her greenish pallor seemed to be fading, and her skin appeared to be a healthier pink.

  “Much better, but do you mind if I still hold on to you?”

  He was about to answer when he heard a rattle at the back door and then a crashing sound, as though someone had hurled a rock through the kitchen window and was trying to break apart one of the shutters. He eased Winnie out of his arms. “Stay here while I see what’s going on.”

  Without awaiting her approval, he started for the kitchen.

  She let out a gasp and scrambled off the sofa. “I’m coming too.”

  “No, it’s too dangerous.” Until a few moments ago, the girl couldn’t stand on her own feet. Even now, she hardly looked steady enough to walk a straight line. “Stay here. I want your promise, Winnie.”

  Before she could respond, he heard another crash and knew the villains would break their way inside unless he stopped them immediately. He gathered his sword in one hand and pistol in the other.

  They were attempting to come in through the kitchen, but he realized he’d have a better vantage point if he approached them from the dining room. He unlatched one of the dining room shutters, opened the window and took aim at the only dark shadow he could make out by the back door that resembled a person. One well aimed shot might fell the villain and send his accomplices scurrying away.

  He noticed several of those red-eyed creatures beside that dark shadow who was, no doubt, their master. He got off a shot before he was noticed, and the bullet found its mark, striking the villain in the arm.

  The villain screamed and quickly ran off. A female? Was it Lady Darkwell?

  He was about to chase after her when she yelled a shrill command for her dogs to kill. “Wait!” Winnie cried, tugging on his arm as soon as he’d slammed the window closed, latched the shutters, and started for the kitchen door. He turned to her and saw that she held the shovel she’d earlier used to threaten him. She held it up and cast him a wan smile. “Toss those creatures my way and I’ll cosh them over the head. How dare they invade my home!”

  The girl was as soft and helpless as a lamb. She was gentle curves and silky skin. She lacked hard muscle and stood no chance against whatever lurked outside. But it was exactly that vulnerability in Winnie and her determination to overcome it that somehow strengthened him.

  He didn’t understand why he should feel this way about Winnie. Somehow, she roused his protective instincts as no one ever had. He’d heard of deep connections of the heart, the sort that his parents had experienced in their long years of marriage.

  He glanced at the girl with ginger hair and big, green eyes that gleamed in the dim lamplight. The top of her head didn’t quite reach his shoulder.

  She had freckles, and was a curious mix of graceful and clumsy.

  Yet, they did have a curious connection. But love?

  He didn’t think so; it wasn’t possible after only a few hours. How many times had he reminded himself of that? And it wasn’t helping. The girl was weaving herself into the fabric of his soul.

  “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, hearing the pounding hooves of a horse carrying its rider away. The dogs disappeared as well, leaving him alone with Winnie in the cold kitchen.

  “That was too close for comfort.” She let out a ragged breath, but instead of returning to the safety of her room, she dropped her shovel and took his hands in both of hers as though to warm them. He suspected it was her way of holding him back so that he would not chase after her assailants. “The servants will be back in the morning. So will my godmothers. We’ll find out who’s behind this mischief. You shot one of them. We’ll find out who it is tomorrow.”

  She appeared pale, but stronger than she had been an hour ago. Her beautiful eyes were bright and determined, no longer dull or distant. He regarded her with new appreciation. “Remember that kiss I wasn’t going to give you?”

  A blush spread across her cheeks as she nodded. “Yes.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  Chapter Five

  Winnie stifled a gasp as Captain Mariner tipped her chin upward so that her gaze met his. “At last,” she said in a breathless whisper. Oh, dear! Had she said the thought aloud? The twitch of his lips revealed that she had. Did it matter when he’d risked his life so many times for her today that she knew he had to be the faerie prince of her dreams? “Tell me what I must do. I’ve never done this before.”

  His laughter was a deep rumble. “Your first time?”

  She nodded.

  He ran his thumb across her cheek as his laughter faded. “Open your heart to me, Winnie. My heart will always answer to yours.”

  Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. How could he feel this way about her? More important, how could she feel the same way about him? They’d only known each other for a day. Not even a full day. All the lessons in etiquette, all the years of training to become a proper lady, were too ingrained in her to be so casually tossed away.

  But she knew that she had to forget about appearances and propriety and give herself over to his guidance. “Will my heart always hear yours? Because I still can’t stop hearing the echo of the Darkwells and their horrid dogs. I’m scared.”

  “Trust me, Winnie.”

  He’d been in her bedchamber and seen her undressed. He’d been alone with her all night and done nothing untoward. He’d held her and protected her, cared for her and fought for her. She nodded. “I do.”

  She thought he would smile in relief, but he frowned lightly instead. At first, she didn’t understand why, and then she understood it all.

  Winnie panicked.

  It was her first kiss. Which meant she had no experience whatsoever and couldn’t possibly know what to do to make this kiss as special and magical as she wanted it to be for him as well as for her.

  “Close your eyes, Winnie. Don’t think about what you or I are about to do, just relax your body and feel. Can you do that for me?”

  “I don’t think so.” She began to despair. Her life had been quite simple up to now, and she wasn’t prepared for the consequences of failure. Relax and kiss him? When he was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man? Not possible. Her thoughts were in a complete muddle already.

  “You can. I have faith in you, Winnie.” His muscled arms felt warm and hard beneath her palms as he drew her closer. He tucked a finger under her chin to tilt her face upward, and then he cut short her protest by dipping his mouth to hers and pressing his lips against hers with an intoxicating confidence.

  His lips felt warm and gentle and overwhelming. His touch kindled a fire in her blood and made her skin tingle from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, the flames slowly building in intensity and bringing her desire to life with a surging jolt.

  She was no longer worried about pain or death.

  Now she worried about losing him, about never feeling his touch again, and about never feeling his lips on hers again or hearing the soft rumble of his voice as he whispered her name. She slid her hands up his arms and held on for dear life to his broad shoulders.
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  His lips were still on hers. Gentle. Hot. Assuring, as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her so close against his body that she felt the strain of his hard sinew and muscle, felt his heat as their bodies melted into one, felt her own body tingle and bubble with heat until she began to ache with an unexplained yearning.

  He deepened the kiss, seeming to understand the needs of her body. His lips pressed against hers as he delved beyond their soft boundaries, parting hers with the flick of his tongue and then mingling his tongue with hers in a gentle battle of thrusts and retreats that she found shocking and at the same time thrilling beyond measure.

  “You feel so good,” he whispered, or she might have only imagined he’d spoken the words because she wanted so badly to hear them. He probably hadn’t said anything because his lips were too busy driving her wild and he wasn’t talking, yet those words resounded as though he’d shouted them through the manor halls.

  She was too lost in wondrous sensations to speak and didn’t understand any of what was happening, only that she was in great peril of losing her heart to him. She had lost her heart to him. The Darkwells were not the only danger to her. They were cold and frightening, but Captain Mariner’s danger was warm and filled her with a gentle light, a golden glow that hummed and flowed through her blood like sweet nectar.

  Yet she sensed he was purposely holding back, that he was not accustomed to being gentle and this moment was as unusual for him as it was for her.

  “Trust me.” This time he whispered against her mouth before deepening their kiss until all she felt was his strength and with her every breath she inhaled the masculine heat of his body.

  “Oh, I do.” She opened her heart to him without restriction or hesitation and felt no fear when the molten heat of his lips on hers spread fire through her veins and her body began to slip into a magical realm.

  You are the prince in my dreams.

  Time no longer seemed to matter.

  All she saw was beauty and brightly shooting stars.

  I love you. I love you. She could never say those words aloud. He’d think her foolish and she’d scare him away. Nor could she trust her own feelings yet, knowing full well that love didn’t simply blossom overnight.

  He was the one to finally end the kiss and ease his lips from hers. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw that he wore a seductive grin. “Glad you liked it, Winnie.”

  Was she that obvious? Of course, since she was still clinging to him and her body was in flames. She didn’t have to look at her reflection in the mirror to know that her eyes were green embers and filled with wonder. “Did you like it?”

  He tweaked her chin. “I think you’ve had a very busy night and had better get some sleep now.”

  She gasped. “You didn’t like it.”

  “Did I say that? I don’t believe so.” He took her by the shoulders and gently turned her toward the sofa. “Get some rest. You may ask me again in the morning.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked when he started out of the room.

  “Find some cold water. The coldest possible.”

  “Why?”

  He burst out laughing and once again refused to answer her question.

  As Winnie drifted awake the next morning, she had the memory of her first kiss foremost on her mind. Magical didn’t begin to describe it, but she also recalled that Captain Mariner hadn’t particularly liked it. What could she do? Insist that he kiss her again? Promise that she would do better next time?

  Even now she felt every sensation, of his sweeping her into his arms when her own legs no longer seemed capable of supporting her, of his lips hot and possessive against hers, as though he were an explorer finding new territory and claiming it for his own. But there had been more to the kiss than his mere taking and claiming and satisfying his own need, for he’d opened his wary heart to give her something of himself in return.

  At least, it had felt that way to her.

  The cock’s first crow startled her, and as the annoying fowl continued to announce the new day to the entire village, she threw off her blanket and sat up. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked them open and glanced around. She was stretched on the sofa in the parlor, wrapped in one of the blankets from her bed.

  She was alone.

  Her first thought was that Captain Mariner and the nighttime visit from the Darkwells had been a bad dream, although the Captain Mariner part had been quite splendid. Just the rest of it had been awful. She would have believed it was all an illusion if not for the light scent of him, an appealing mix of honey and spice and warrior, lingering on the blanket.

  And if not for the lingering tingle of her lips where his mouth had pressed on hers.

  She grazed her finger lightly across the swell of her bottom lip and sighed. Oh, yes. A memorable kiss. The best any girl could wish for. “Captain?” she called out softly.

  Sunlight streamed in through the open windows. Windows that are open and not shuttered. A gentle breeze wafted through the house. “Are you here? Have the wicked Darkwells gone for good?”

  There was no response.

  She glanced at her clothes and saw that she was no longer wearing her costume but had on a serviceable gown of pale blue muslin. Oh, yes. Captain Mariner had helped her into it during her passing queasiness. A hot blush stole into her cheeks at the memory of his big, confident hands on her body.

  Her dancing slippers had been replaced by sturdy walking boots.

  He’d helped her into those as well, her heart shooting into her throat when he’d taken her foot and placed it against his muscled thigh. Was this how it would be from now on? Her limbs melting and her mind turning to pudding every time she gazed at him? “You are attics-to-let, Winnie. Miss Allenby-Falk’s pies are to blame, no doubt.”

  However, the more she tried to explain away her yearning for this stranger who had suddenly appeared in her life, the more convinced she was that he had forever captured her heart.

  Ridiculous thoughts such as “the sun shines brighter and birds begin to chirp outside my window whenever he comes into view” crossed her mind. Winnie was about to call to Captain Mariner again when she heard noises in the kitchen—the clatter of pans and a woman humming one of the tunes the piper had been playing at yesterday’s fair.

  “Ah, ye’re finally awake, Lady Winnie.” Mrs. Halloway cast her a pleasant smile before returning to the task of stirring up the fire in the kitchen hearth. “Made ye some biscuits. I think we all had a little too much merriment yesterday.” She rolled her strained brown eyes. “Mr. Halloway will need another day to recover. Imbibed too much ale last night. He claimed it was howling dogs that kept him awake, but I know it was the ale. I had too much as well.”

  She popped the biscuits out of the oven and set them in a basket on the large wooden table in the center of the kitchen to cool. “Must have been the ale, for I thought I saw a naked man washing ’imself by the stream when I walked down there earlier to fetch water.”

  Winnie gasped. “What did he look like?”

  Mrs. Halloway gave her backside a light tap. “What sort of question is that for a proper young lady to ask?” Then she let out a chuckle. “No harm in telling ye, I suppose. Caused my heart to flutter, I will admit.”

  She sighed and shook her head before continuing. “He was the sort of man one dreams of, not the scrawny sort we have in these parts. Hair the color of gold he ’ad, and there was a fire-breathing dragon painted on his shoulder with its tail wrapped around his arm like this.” She drew an imaginary circle around her upper arm and then burst into hearty laughter. “Ah, well. One can dream to be swept into the arms of a man like that.”

  “Indeed, Mrs. Halloway.” Winnie cast her an impish grin, noting with relief that the glass from the broken window had been cleared away and there were no rocks littering the floor.

  “Forgive me, Lady Winnie.” She followed Winnie’s gaze to the broken window. “We should have returned with ye. Looks like there were some mischief makers a
bout last night.”

  Winnie nodded. “They didn’t stay long. I came to no harm.” She didn’t wish to divulge more of what had happened, so she shook her head and changed the topic. “I like your dream. Mine wasn’t nearly as much fun as yours. Do you think the gentleman is still by the lake?”

  Mrs. Halloway waved her hand over the biscuits to cool them. “I wouldn’t think so, dear. But who knows? Odd things have been happening lately, and to add to it, your aunts took themselves off so suddenly the other day you’d think they’d been summoned by mad King George ’imself.”

  Winnie poked her head out the window, but the stream wasn’t visible through the blossoming foliage. “They’ll be back today. They must. My birthday is tomorrow and they’d never miss it.”

  “Ah, yes. You’ll be all of twenty-one! I was just shy of eighteen when I married Mr. Halloway and had my second child on the way by the time I was your age.” She shook her head and smiled. “But birthday or no, ye shouldn’t have been left on yer own even for a day. Well, we’re ’ere to look after ye now.”

  Winnie simply nodded and returned her smile.

  Mrs. Halloway pursed her lips and tsked. “Where does the time go? I still remember when your godmothers brought ye here all those years ago, a little princess with no ’air and a set of lungs the like I’d never heard before. Was it truly—”

  She broke off suddenly and trained her gaze out the window. “Well, look at that. There’s the gentleman I was tellin’ ye about.”

  Winnie followed Mrs. Halloway’s gaze and spotted Captain Mariner standing beside the copse of trees, the entire handsome length of him. He still wore his warrior’s garb and looked nothing like a proper English gentleman. He was the man of her dreams, and it mattered little who or what he was, for she trusted him with her heart.

  She tore out of the house at a run.

  “Good morning, Winnie.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her to approach.