Mercenaries and Maidens: A Medieval Romance bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He had to get her out of there.

  Andrew was crouched low in the brush when Sully reached him. He, too, squatted down, creating a low profile as his gaze fixed on his mistress in the distance. He, too, could see the people in the clearing and felt a tremendous need to get to Josephine before the gypsies did. His urge bordered on panic.

  “What in the hell is she doing?” he hissed.

  Andrew shook his head, his eyes scanning their surroundings. “I do not know,” he whispered. “But we must get her out of there.”

  Sully took a couple of small steps in Josephine’s direction, hoping to come up behind her and steal her away. But she seemed to be mesmerized by the activity in the grassy clearing and she was too far away for the men to risk calling out to her. Therefore, Sully crept stealthily through the floor of the forest, inwardly raging at his mistress for her foolish actions. He would like nothing better than to take her over his knee and bruise her sweet little bottom.

  But he had to get to her first.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. Andrew was the first one to catch motion out of the corner of his eye and he turned to see a big, bear-like man heading towards Josephine, well ahead of Sully. He was coming straight for her from inside the ring of trees, while Sully was several yards back in the undergrowth. There would be no possibility of Sully reaching Josephine first. God help her, she was about to be captured.

  And there was nothing they could do about it.

  As Andrew watched the kidnapping unfold from a distance, Sully had sense enough to duck low behind a tree trunk as he saw the man close in on Josephine. He wasn’t nearly close enough to rush him and they couldn’t risk alerting the others. Therefore, he had to stay where he was, but his heart was in his throat when he saw the man grab her by the neck and clamp a hand over her mouth. She squealed only once initially, then was silent as the man yanked her savagely into the clearing.

  In a half-second, Sully was back to the others.

  “Etienne!” he ordered. “Back to Torridon. Get help!”

  Etienne fled. Andrew watched the big, blond man rush off but, much like Sully, his attention was on the gypsies, who now had Josephine in their midst. It appeared that they were simply talking to her at this point, which was good. Things seemed to be calm for the moment. But Andrew was so tense with apprehension at that point that had the gypsies tried to harm Josephine, he would have rushed the camp against his better judgement.

  As ridiculous as those thoughts were, he knew he couldn’t fight that instinct. He had to save that silly woman who liked nothing better than to throw a punch at him. Now, his mind was working furiously on a plan to remove her with little or no bloodshed. After a moment, he turned to Thane.

  “Do you have any money on you?” he asked quickly. “Any valuables?”

  Thane looked surprised. “Of course,” he insisted. “I always carry my money with me. You do not think that I would leave it in camp with our people, do you?”

  Andrew gave him a lopsided grin. “Good lad,” he said. “Now, remove your mail and your helm.”

  Thane looked curiously at him. “What?”

  Andrew ripped off his helm and then pulled off his heavy hauberk. “Do it quickly,” he urged. “Hurry!”

  Without another question, Thane did as he was told. Sully watched in growing alarm as Andrew finally pulled off the chainmail coat and cast it aside.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  Andrew rose to his knees, trying to smooth out the heavy linen tunic against his broad chest. It was dirty and damp with sweat.

  “I am going to rescue your troublesome mistress,” he said.

  “Then I am coming,” Sully said as he began to remove his armor as well.

  “Nay,” Andrew said firmly. “You must remain should our attempt fail. We cannot risk all of us falling captive.”

  “But Etienne has gone for help,” Sully said. “He will return with a force.”

  “And he will need someone here to direct the forces,” Andrew responded firmly, looking Sully in the eye. “They are your men. They will need to be directed by you. Thane and I will enter the camp under the guise as renegade soldiers. With Thane’s money, I will attempt to buy Lady Josephine.”

  Sully couldn’t believe what he was hearing, any of it. He just looked at Andrew in astonishment.

  “Are you serious?” he said. “You are mad!”

  Andrew flashed a grin. “I am that,” he said. “I am mad for risking life and limb for a woman who has struck me twice, with virtually no provocation. There has to be an easier way to earn eight thousand marks.”

  “Five thousand,” Sully reminded him.

  “It will be eight thousand when I get through with this.”

  With that, he headed off, pulling Thane along with him. Sully watched the two men traipse off towards the camp indirectly, wondering if any of this was going work. He knew their plan was only half-formed, but he also knew it was imperative that they free Josephine before something occurred that would make them regret not attempting a rescue plan sooner. Perhaps it was only logical that Andrew and Thane attempt to infiltrate the gypsies. They were mercenaries, after all, and were accustomed to dealing with that element.

  Sully was a proud man and did not like to admit he lacked knowledge in any area, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew when to swallow his pride. Yet, it disturbed him that virtual strangers were rescuing his mistress, the woman he was so wildly protective over, but he felt it was the wisest path to follow.

  As Andrew and Thane entered the clearing where Josephine was being held, Sully crept forward and crouched behind some growth, his eyes glued to the clearing. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but he could certainly read the body language. Hand on the hilt of his sword, he sincerely hoped that Andrew could buy Josephine’s freedom because if something dire happened before Etienne and the rest of the troops arrived, then it would be Sully’s one-man army rushing out to save them all. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  God help them all.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A gypsy had grabbed a hold of Josephine, holding her tightly as he dragged her in Andrew’s direction. The subject of a price came up again, clearly meant for her. Andrew’s eyes were locked on her as if he had never seen her before but, in truth, it was an expression that Josephine would always remember.

  There was great interest there… and great confidence.

  But Josephine was quivering with fright, with anger, and was still trying to understand why Andrew wasn’t helping her. But when she got past that expression on his face, she realized that he wasn’t dressed in his usual style. He was without any protection at all, not even his broadsword. Instead, he was clad in heavy leather breeches and big boots. His linen tunic was open down his broad chest, revealing his tanned, slightly hairy skin beneath. She’d only ever seen him in mail, so to see him so casually dressed was something of a surprise. And, if she admitted it, pleasurable.

  The man’s male beauty was unsurpassed.

  Yet, her opinion of his comeliness didn’t stop her anger. There was still great confusion and angst. When the gypsy man brought her to a halt, Andrew came towards her as if to inspect her as a prize, stopping inches from her as his eyes raking over her curvaceous form. When his gaze came to rest upon hers again, Josephine thought she might start shouting obscenities at him again, but nothing seemed to come forth. Something in that intense gaze was mesmerizing.

  But in his eyes, she saw something else, something that brought her anger to cool. Somehow, she saw protection, loyalty, and gentleness in the clear brown depths. Whatever she had initially thought about his presence here, she knew she was wrong. Down to her heart she knew it. He was here, and he was here to help… but how?

  What was he planning?

  There was more confusion in her heart now. How had he known she was even in trouble? She’d run off so quickly that no one knew where she’d gone, but Andrew evidently did. Perhaps he’d even followed her. He
r eyes must have relayed her confusion, for she saw his face soften slightly. His eyes began to glimmer, with a message only for her if she dared look hard enough to read it…

  Do not fear, my lady.

  Andrew did, indeed, see Josephine’s expression. It was hard not to see it on her innocent face. He knew how frightened she was and he felt mounting rage at the gypsies for bringing the fear upon her. He tried very hard to convey comfort to her and he began to see that she understood him. That was good. But the anger he felt at the situation was something he wrestled with, and he suppressed the feeling, for it could very well jeopardize what he was trying to accomplish.

  He was, in fact, playing a role and he had to be convincing. He was a buyer and she was his prospective possession. He put a hand up, grasping Josephine’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. He turned her face from side-to-side, inspecting her.

  “She is exquisite,” he said finally. “Where did you find her?”

  Daume came to him. “Eli found her in the woods,” he said. “She claims to be the mistress of the nearby fortress.”

  “Indeed?” Andrew’s eyebrows rose. “Take the gag from her mouth.”

  Daume nodded to the man holding Josephine, who complied. The gag fell away and Josephine licked her lips, again looking to Andrew. He smiled seductively at her.

  “What’s your name, lass?” he asked.

  As she looked at him doubtfully, he prayed to God that she would be smart enough to play the game. There was something in his expression beseeching her to understand what he was trying to do. Not really knowing the woman, he wasn’t sure if she’d be sharp enough to understand.

  Fortunately for them both, she was.

  “Josephine de Carron,” she said. “I am Lady Ayr.”

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  “I have seen nineteen summers.”

  He cocked his head at her. “I like them younger.”

  Josephine’s eyes blazed. Before she could stop herself, she retorted. “That is probably because an older woman is smart enough to know about the likes of you!”

  The group of gypsies gasped, Daume coughed, and Thane and Andrew laughed out loud.

  “She has spirit!” Andrew announced, then turned to Daume. “I must have her. How much will you take?”

  Daume looked surprised, but quickly his mind began to churn. “To be truthful,” he said to Andrew, “I was plannin’ to keep her myself. She is just my taste.”

  Andrew put his hand on Daume’s shoulder. “Come, come my friend,” he said. “You have many women in your camp. My brother and I are alone with no companionship. Surely we can agree on a price.”

  Daume was reluctant to part with his trophy but Andrew pressed the point. He began to point at Josephine, scrutinizing her. “She is not so grand a prize after all,” he said. “Look at her; she is small and pale and is bad-natured. Do you really want her with your people, causing problems? You know that she will only be trouble to you. I will pay you to take her off your hands.”

  Daume was fairly limited in his intelligence. He couldn’t see beyond the moment and, at the moment, money for this captured woman was very appealing. With a long glance at Josephine as if to confirm what Andrew had said, he looked at the muscular, auburn-haired man.

  “Two hundred marks,” he said finally.

  Andrew didn’t miss a beat as he motioned to Thane. Outwardly, he appeared highly confidant, but inwardly he was praying that Thane had enough money with him. He then caught the expression on Thane’s face as the man approached; he didn’t have enough. So Andrew turned his head to Josephine.

  She was looking at him openly, her big eyes wide with apprehension. What was he going to do next? She didn’t have to wait long for an answer because in four long strides he was directly in front of her. Any closer and he would be standing in her shoes. Her head was tilted far back as she looked up into his eyes with uncertainty and, perhaps, with a little fear. She had no idea as to what he was going to do, or how he was going to rescue her from the clutches of these outlaws. But looking into his eyes, she knew instinctively to trust him. Unspoken words passed between them and her heart calmed.

  In truth, she had little choice.

  Andrew’s entire body was trembling as he stood ever so close to her. He’d felt the same way when he’d held her while she’d been ill and the attraction he’d felt to her had nearly overwhelmed him. God’s Bones, she was so beautiful. Thank God, Daume was more interested in money than in her. Now, he regretted what he was about to do.

  But it was necessary.

  Josephine’s hands were still bound so she offered no resistance as Andrew’s hand entwined in her hair and yanked her head back savagely. She yelped in pain and surprise, but was cut off as his mouth clamped over hers. But before his lips touched her, she heard him utter two words.

  “Forgive me.”

  Andrew’s lips were hard and insisting, bruising her soft lips. Josephine tried to pull away, but his hand in her hair made that impossible. The kiss became stronger and deeper, his tongue prying her lips open and licking the soft, pink insides of her mouth. Had she not been so frightened, she might have enjoyed it, for it wasn’t in any way repulsive. But his grip on her head scared her, and her mind began to race. He’d begged for her forgiveness, but for what? What he was doing or what he was about to do? In a surge of panic, she bit down with her sharp teeth on his lower lip.

  Andrew didn’t utter a sound, but he pulled back with a start. His eyes were wide with surprise as he tasted his own blood. His gaze lingered on her a moment, as if to ask her why she bit him, but he already knew why. He took a step back and, with his eyes still lingering on her, he spoke.

  “She is not worth two hundred marks,” he stated.

  Turning abruptly, he marched over to Thane and jerked his head sideways in a silent command to follow him. With Josephine and Daume looking on, surprised with the swift motion, Thane fell in behind his commander and began to follow him away from the fire. Daume began to sputter and looked back to his group for support, thinking he’d just lost a good deal of money, when Josephine took a couple of steps forward and began to follow Andrew as he walked away.

  She was sorry! She had been frightened and reacted the only way she could think of. Oh, Andrew, please do not leave me… please!

  “Andrew!” she cried.

  Andrew froze and Thane almost plowed into the back of him. Both men turned around slowly, with Andrew slower than Thane. The expression on his face was unreadable, but Thane looked like a child who just got caught stealing sweetcakes. Guilt was written all over him.

  But Daume wasn’t looking at the men; he was looking at Josephine. He didn’t look suspicious, only terribly confused. He scowled at her.

  “Andrew? Who is Andrew?” he demanded.

  Josephine was on the verge of tears of frustration and of fear. She had destroyed Andrew’s rescue plan with one word; God help her, she knew that. Whatever came now, she deserved. She wouldn’t blame him if he simply walked away. She looked at Daume, her mouth working.

  “He… I mean he…” she stuttered. “He looks like someone I knew once. I do not know why I said that. I am mistaken.”

  Daume looked at her, dubious, and for a split second, Andrew thought Daume might just be dense enough to accept her lame explanation. Still, he knew he had to do something before it all tumbled down on them, so he decided to take action. He stormed over to Josephine, bent down in front of her, and tossed her up over one broad shoulder like a sack of grain.

  “She comes with me,” he said angrily. “No wench is going to bite me and get away with it. And I’ll only pay one hundred marks for her. She’s not worth anything more.”

  Daume found his wits and his mouth. “Two hundred marks!” he roared. “No less!”

  Andrew could sense a fight coming. He looked at Thane and knew the man was ready; he could see it in Thane’s body language. The two men were quite a bit larger than the gypsies, but the man-to-man comparison was a
t least seven to one. If Sully came on cue, then the ratio would be cut in half. But his primary concern was getting Josephine to safety before any blows were dealt. He motioned to Thane, who was at his side quickly. With a bit more care, he handed Josephine to his second.

  “To the woods,” he growled.

  Thane understood. Andrew meant get her the hell out of here before she got caught in the middle of a fight. As Thane moved quickly away from the growing hostility, Andrew squared off with the short, fat gypsy. He smiled threateningly.

  “The whore goes with me either way,” he said in a tone that made the hair on Daume’s neck stand on end. “One hundred marks or nothing. The choice is yours.”

  Daume’s face flushed. “How dare you steal from me?” he sputtered. “I graciously open my camp to you, give you food and drink, and you have the gall to steal from me! I ought to cut your heart out!”

  Andrew’s smile faded and he glared at the man. It didn’t take long before some fool made the first move, so Andrew flew into action. He caught the man square in the face with a backhanded fist, sending him sprawling. After that, the whole camp was moving in on Andrew.

  Just inside the edge of the trees, Thane deposited Josephine with Sully, who quickly cut off her leather bindings. Thane barely had time to look back over the clearing just to see Andrew throw the first blow.

  “Damnation!”

  Thane took off at a dead run, heading back into the clearing to help Andrew. Sully forgot about Josephine for the moment, looking to see where Thane was heading in such a hurry.

  “God Bones…” he muttered.

  Now, Sully went barreling after Thane, rushing out to help Andrew fight off men who were clearly trying to kill him. Still in the thicket, Josephine pulled way the leather bindings and rubbed her wrists as she stood up, watching Andrew, Thane, and Sully in a vicious fight with several gypsies and feeling a good deal of concern for their safety. They’d come to save her, but at what cost? Three of them against the entire camp? They risked themselves to rescue her. She couldn’t let one or more of them come to harm.