Heart of Honor (12 page)

Over the weekend, she had continued his lessons on manners and decorum, and as usual, he had been a very rapid learner, committing to memory each instruction she gave him, perfecting his skills more easily than she could have imagined. His competence was evident here, as well. By the end of the day, she realized how useful he had made himself around the office. In the few days he had worked there he had managed to earn the employees’ respect and make a place for himself among them.

“Leif is a very hard worker,” Corrie said. “I like him, Krista.”

Krista turned away, her chest suddenly tight. “I like him, too, Corrie. I like him far too much.”

Her friend eyed her uncertainly. “I realize the man is incredibly handsome, but surely—”

“I’m attracted to him, Corrie. I can scarcely think when I am around him.”

“Oh, dear.” Corrie’s gaze found the object of their discussion over in the corner, lifting some heavy boxes that Freddie wasn’t big enough to move. “What about Matthew Carlton?”

Krista shook her head. “I’m going to marry him. I have no choice. My family needs an heir and I am the only person who can give them one. Besides, I want a husband and family of my own, and Matthew and I are very well suited.”

“Perhaps you and Leif—”

“He’s going back, Corrie. Leif is the eldest son. He is destined to be chieftain of his clan. He has duties to his people, just as I have duties here.”

“I can’t believe he intends to leave. He watches you as if you already belong to him.”

Krista glanced to where Leif stood, saw his gaze move over her a moment before he went back to work. “Leif is very protective. It is simply his nature, I think. And there is the fact that I am the one who got him out of that cage. Perhaps he feels he owes me a debt of some kind.”

“Perhaps…” Corrie said, but it was clear she thought Leif’s feelings went far beyond payment of a debt.

Krista told herself whatever feelings she held for Leif were unimportant. Besides, he was leaving and she was staying. It was as simple as that.

Krista was tired at day’s end. Thoughts of Leif and her ridiculous attraction to him left her irritable and out of sorts. When he removed his sword from the upright chest in her office and walked ahead of her toward the door, she snapped at him, though she hadn’t really meant to. “How many times have I told you that a woman precedes a man? I can’t believe you have already forgotten.”

His eyes darkened. “And I told you that a man walks in front of a woman in case there is danger. There is danger here for you, Krista. Whether you wish to believe it or not.”

With that he jerked open the door and stepped out onto the porch. He disappeared for a moment, checking the area around the building to be sure it was safe, then returned. Drawing her a little too rapidly down the steps, he then lifted her off her feet as if she weighed nothing at all, and dropped her onto the seat of the carriage.

Leif climbed in behind her and hurled himself into the opposite seat. He was angry and she really didn’t blame him. It was scarcely his fault her thoughts were so unruly where he was concerned. True, he preyed on the attraction he knew she felt for him, but he was a man—a Viking, no less—and he wanted her. He had made his desire perfectly clear.

By the time they were halfway home, darkness had settled over the city. They were rolling along the street when the carriage made an unexpected turn. Krista started to lean out the window to see why the coachman had changed direction, but Leif pulled her back inside.

“What is wrong?” he asked.

“We don’t usually go through this part of town.”

Turning, he blew out the brass coach lamp, leaving the interior in darkness. She heard the sound of his blade sliding out of its leather sheath, and realized he had drawn his sword.

“I’m sure it is nothing.” She leaned over once more, determined to look out the window. Surely once she knew which way the coach was traveling—

Leif pushed her back down in the seat. “You will obey me in this, Krista. Do not get up again.” There was steel in his voice. If she hadn’t known him as she did, she might have been frightened. Even now, her heart was thumping faster.

“I am certain we are not—”

“Silence, lady!” His jaw looked as hard as granite in the dim light and Krista’s mouth snapped shut. He had never spoken to her this way and it was clear he meant for her to heed his words.

Leif’s eyes searched the darkness outside the window and the muscles in his shoulders tightened. A little shiver ran down her spine at the fearsome sight he made. This man was no gentleman, no matter his facade. He was a Viking through and through, and he was ready for any sort of danger.

Surely there was a simple explanation, she thought, then felt the jolt of the brakes as the carriage rolled to a halt. She started to call out to the coachman, ask why he had stopped, but Leif’s dark look warned her not to.

Her heartbeat quickened even more. Across the street, light filtered out through the dirty windows of a seedy tavern. The sound of a woman’s high-pitched laughter drifted on the warm night air, followed by the gruff sound of men’s voices just outside the carriage.

Her stomach tightened. In the shadowy darkness, she saw Leif’s hand tighten around the hilt of his sword. Then the door jerked open and the barrel of a pistol appeared.

“Get down here. Both of ye. Now!”

Leif’s gaze found hers. There was cold fury in his eyes and bloodlust in the hard lines of his face. “Ladies first,” he said softly.

Pulse drumming almost painfully, Krista descended the narrow iron stairs. A big, heavyset man with a thick black beard waited at the bottom, also brandishing a weapon.

“Now you, bucko!” the first man shouted into the carriage.

Leif leaned forward, his head and shoulders appearing through the open carriage door. He took a single step down the stairs, then his arm shot out, the heavy sword flashing in the light from the tavern, slashing upward as he leaped from the coach. The first henchmen shrieked in pain and his pistol flew into the darkness. Krista bit back a scream as blood spattered over her gown and darkened the legs of Leif’s gray trousers.

“Bloody bastard!” the man shouted. “’E’s cut off two o’ me fingers!”

Shoving Krista out of harm’s way, Leif whirled toward the second man, sword raised for another cutting blow. Shaking all over, scarcely able to breathe, she watched the two opponents. Using the flat of his sword, Leif knocked the second henchman’s pistol away with an ease that made her shiver, and planted his blade at the base of the big man’s throat.

Footsteps pounded as the first man shot down the alley and disappeared into the darkness. Krista looked up at the driver’s seat, but their coachman was nowhere to be seen.

Leif fixed his attention on the man beneath his blade, backing him up, step by step, until he was flattened against the side of the carriage.

“Who hired you?”

The big man shook his head. “Don’t…don’t know ’is name.”

Leif pressed the iron tip of the blade beneath his bearded chin.

“I don’t know ’is name! I swear it, gov’nor!” He was breathing hard, his body shaking with fear. “Me and Willie got a message over there at the White Horse Tavern. Said a carriage would be pullin’ into the alley across the street. We was to stop the coach and deliver a message. Paid us real good to do it.”

“What message?” Leif asked darkly.

“Said to tell the woman she was gonna be real sorry if she didn’t stop printin’ those articles in her paper.”

“What else?”

The man cut his eyes away.

“What else?” Leif pressed the sword tip deeper, until a trickle of blood appeared.

The henchman swallowed. “Said…said we should teach the litt’l tart a lesson.”

“Go on.”

“Said we could each have us a taste o’ her before we let her go.”

Leif made a growling sound low in his throat. He tossed down his sword and jerked the man up by the front of his shirt. “I will teach
you
a lesson.” He drove his fist deep into the big man’s stomach, doubling him over, then punched him hard in the face. Blow after blow rained down until Krista was certain he would kill him.

“Leif, stop! You must stop, please!”

Another vicious blow fell, knocking the man’s head back, sending him crashing into the side of a building in the alley. Leif dragged him up and struck him again.

“Leif, please! You can’t just keep hitting him! Stop it right now!”

He drew back his arm another time, then seemed to collect himself as her words began to sink in.

“Please, Leif. You have to stop.”

His fist shook as he stepped away, leaving the man in a bloody heap at his feet. “Get in the coach,” he said.

She cast a last glance at her surroundings, worried the other man might return, then started up the stairs. “What about the coachman?”

“He was one of them. I will drive you home.”

“Do you know how?”

“I can drive a wagon. I will get us there.”

“But—”

“Get inside, lady! Do as I say!”

Krista swallowed, but didn’t argue. This was a far different man than the one who had danced with her in the drawing room. She shivered as she settled herself on the red velvet seat, and a few minutes later the carriage lurched into motion.

She thought of Leif and the men he had brought down with frightening ease. If she had ever doubted the stories she had read about Vikings, she didn’t now.

Paxton Hart paced the entry. One of the grooms had come to him only moments ago, worried that the carriage had not yet arrived home from
Heart to Heart.

“Mr. Skinner sent me,” the young man said. “He took ill, ye see, a disease of the bowels, just before time to fetch yer daughter home from work. The new man took the coach, sir. Mr. Skinner—he’s beginnin’ ta worry somethin’ mighta’ happened.”

“Yes, well, I am beginning to worry, myself. Perhaps a wheel has broken or some other problem has occurred.”

“Yes, sir. Shall I rig out the other carriage, sir?”

“Perhaps you had better. As soon as it is ready, have it brought round front and—”

Footsteps on the front porch stairs cut off his words. The butler hurried to open the door, and when it swung wide, Leif and Krista appeared in the opening.

“Good heavens!” said Giles.

“Indeed!” Paxton moved forward. “Quickly. Let’s get them inside.” Both Leif’s and Krista’s clothing was stained with blood and the pins had come loose from his daughter’s hair, leaving it to trail in golden ringlets around her shoulders. “What has happened? Shall I fetch a doctor?”

“There is no need for that,” Krista said. “I am sorry to worry you, Father, but you see there was a slight…slight altercation.”

“Your daughter’s carriage was attacked,” Leif said. “She is lucky she escaped unharmed.” His voice was harder than Paxton had ever heard it, and his jaw looked like iron.

“You were right to send Leif, Father,” Krista admitted. “If he hadn’t been with me…” She looked down at the blood spattered over her skirt, and the color leached from her cheeks. “I don’t know what might have happened.”

She swayed a little and Leif scooped her up in his arms.

“Take her upstairs,” Paxton said. “I’ll ring for her maid.”

“I am fine,” Krista told them, but she turned her head into Leif’s powerful chest and slid her arms around his neck. “I was wrong,” she said to him softly. “I am sorry.”

“It is all right. I was there to protect you. That is all that matters.” Leif kissed the top of Krista’s head and a tightness squeezed Paxton’s chest. He had known from the first time he had seen them together the risk he was taking. It was the reason he had insisted on removing Leif to Heartland.

Since their return to London, he had watched the attraction between the pair grow. He was afraid Krista was falling in love with the handsome blond Norseman, and that could only lead to disaster. As much as Paxton admired and respected the man, he knew that in time Leif would be returning to his far north island home. He was determined in that regard, and Paxton had never met a man of stronger will.

Krista’s life was here in London. The people she loved, the business she had built into such a successful enterprise, her passionate ideals, those were what mattered most to her. They were the things that made her happy. Whatever her feelings for Leif, it could never work between them.

Paxton was worried about his daughter and the man he had invited into their home and yet he trusted Leif to protect her as he trusted no one else.

As he watched the big man carry her up the stairs, Paxton prayed Krista would be wise enough to protect her heart.

K
rista rose early. She wanted to speak to Leif, to thank him for the way he had come to her rescue last night.

She found him in the breakfast room, a small, sunny parlor at the back of the town house. He was carefully dipping his fork into a plate of eggs and ham, eating with relish, if a bit slower than usual. Perched on the back of the chair beside him, tiny Alfinn looked up at her with big, brown, soulful eyes. Leif dipped a piece of bread into the pool of honey on his plate and handed it to the monkey.

“I see you have company this morning.”

At the sound of her voice, Leif spotted her in the doorway and smiled. “You are up early.” He stayed seated a moment, then recalled he was supposed to rise when a woman entered the room, and shot to his feet.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she said.

As she walked toward the table, Alfinn reached a tiny hand out to her and she stopped a moment to pet him. Leif pushed back his chair, rounded the table and very properly seated her across from him.

“Would you like something to eat?” He indicated the silver chafing dishes on the sideboard, but Krista shook her head.

“I rarely eat much in the mornings.” Just then one of the servants appeared with a cup of hot chocolate and several small biscuits, her usual morning fare. Leif gave Alfinn a slice of orange off his plate and the monkey ate it very daintily.

“I thought my father might be in here,” Krista said, “though I should have known he would already be locked away with his work.”

“Your father had a meeting with one of his professor friends. I do not think he plans to be gone very long.” The servant slipped back out the door and closed it quietly behind him. “We are private here,” Leif added. “What is it you wished to say?”

Krista smoothed her napkin over the full skirt of her rose dimity morning dress. “I just…I wanted to thank you for what you did last night. You risked your life to protect me, Leif. You could have been shot, perhaps even killed. What you did…it was amazing and, well, as I said, I just wanted to thank you.”

“It is a man’s duty to protect a woman.”

“I suppose that may be so where you come from. Still, it was a very brave thing to do.”

He looked at her, studied her face, seem to read her thoughts. “There is more you wish to say. What is it?”

She released a breath. “I just…I wish I had been more courageous. I’m sure the women where you live would not have simply stood there and done nothing, the way I did. They would have helped you in some way.”

A corner of his mouth edged up. “I am a warrior. I do not need a woman to help me fight.”

“No, you did a very fine job all by yourself. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so completely taken by surprise…In truth, I never believed I was in any real danger until it was too late.” She managed to smile. “At least I didn’t scream or fall over in a swoon.”

His lips widened into a grin. It made him look young and devastatingly handsome. “You were very brave—for an Englishwoman.”

Both of them laughed. Alfinn joined in, screeching merrily, and Krista was surprised at the relief she felt. She had worried that she had somehow disappointed Leif. It was foolish, perhaps, but she was glad that he still looked at her with the same warmth in his eyes.

She took several sips of her chocolate and ate one of the biscuits, then voices in the entry caught her attention. Leif rose from his chair as her father and Matthew Carlton walked into the breakfast room. Matthew’s features were set and there was a determined look in his eyes. Her father’s expression was equally grim, but his features seemed tinged with regret.

Krista’s heartbeat quickened. “Is something wrong, Father?” She rose to her feet in turn.

“I am afraid so, dearest.”

As if by magic, one of the footmen arrived to carry little Alfinn back out to the stables. The monkey leaped onto the young man’s arm and the pair disappeared out the door.

“Last night after supper,” her father continued once they were alone, “I received a note from Matthew requesting a meeting this morning.” Matthew had been in the country, she knew, his father taken ill with an ague.

She turned in his direction. “I hope the earl is all right.”

“My father is fine. This has nothing to do with my family. It has to do with you and me and the future we have been planning.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Krista murmured. Across from her, Leif stood tense and unmoving. “If this concerns only the two of us, Matthew, perhaps it would be better discussed in private.”

“I’m afraid this also concerns your house guest, Mr. Draugr. You see, as your fiancé, I highly protest his presence in your home.”

“But he is here at my father’s invitation.”

“Which your father and I discussed at length this morning. It has also been brought to my attention that Mr. Draugr has been accompanying you about town in your carriage—without a chaperone. This is highly improper, Krista, and I want it stopped—now!”

She glanced quickly at her father, silently beseeching him for help, but saw no aid in the grim look on his face.

“Mr. Draugr has been acting as my protector,” she said. “As you know, I have received a number of threatening messages. Last night, Leif…Mr. Draugr…saved my life.”

“Yes, your father told me the tale of your rescue during our discussion this morning.”

“So you see, it is necessary that Mr. Draugr—”

“I will be happy to provide any protection you might need. In the meantime, I want Draugr out of this house by the end of the day or our engagement is over.”

“You can’t mean that, Matthew.”

“The choice is yours, Krista. We can build a life together as we have planned, or you can throw it all away for a few months in the company of your barbarian—the professor’s guinea pig.”

Krista bit back a gasp as Leif surged forward and grabbed Matthew by the front of his shirt.

“Leif, no!” she cried out.

“Let him go, Leif,” her father commanded. “This is not the way for a gentleman to behave.”

Leif held on to Matthew’s shirt a moment more, then released him. “I will not take your insults, Carlton. Gentleman or no.”

Matthew smoothed the wrinkles from the front of his crisp white shirt. “Are you challenging me, Draugr? Dueling, my friend, has been outlawed for years.” Matthew arched a brow. “However, there is no law against a fencing match between two acquaintances.” His mouth tightened. “We won’t need any protective armor, of course, being such
old friends.
”

“No!” Krista nearly shouted. “Leif doesn’t know how to fence. Are you trying to kill him?”

“Of course not. But you’ve been teaching him a number of different things. Perhaps a lesson on what happens when a man poaches on another man’s territory might be useful.”

The professor looked worried. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Matthew. The man has never used a fencing sword before. The contest would hardly be fair.”

“I will fight him,” Leif said, a muscle working in his jaw.

Krista caught his arm. “Leif, you can’t do that. You don’t know how to fence. The swords they use are nothing like the blade you used last night.”

“I will fight him with whatever weapon he chooses.”

Matthew smiled. “You see—he wants the match. How does tomorrow sound? Say ten o’clock in the morning?”

Leif gave a stiff nod of his head and Krista’s heart twisted in fear. “Leif, please. You can’t do this.”

He cast her the same look of warning he had given her last night.

“Then it’s settled,” Matthew said. “I’ll even provide him with a sword.”

Krista looked into Leif’s face and knew he was determined in this. He would fight and nothing she could say would stop him. Her chin went up. “He can use my great-grandfather’s sword.”

Matthew bowed. “As you wish. Oh, and there is one more thing. If I win the match, Leif Draugr leaves this house, and you and I set a date for our wedding—which will take place very soon.”

The air seemed to stall in Krista’s lungs. Leif would not back down, but Matthew had just given her a way to end this deadly game before either of the men got hurt. “You don’t have to fight him, Matthew. Leif can return to Heartland, as you wish, and you and I can set a date for the wedding.”

Leif’s blue eyes darkened in fury. “I will fight,” he said to Matthew. “And if
I
win, your engagement to Krista is over.”

The room fell silent. Krista could count every beat of her heart.

Matthew Carlton smiled. “Agreed. Tomorrow, then, ten o’clock.” He made a slight bow to Krista, turned and walked out of the breakfast room. In the entry, she heard Giles open and close the front door.

Krista looked up at the Norseman and her eyes filled with tears. “Dear God, Leif, what have you done?”

The weather turned gray and cloudy, darkening the sky outside the windows of the drawing room. Krista watched Leif pull her great-grandfather’s fencing sword from its scabbard, one of a pair used for dueling. The other nestled on a bed of dark blue velvet in the carved wooden case.

“They belonged to my mother’s grandfather, the fourth Earl of Hampton,” she said. “He was a big man, blond like you, Leif. He claimed to be of Viking descent.”

Leif nodded. “Then Tyr has blessed me.” He was the god of war, she knew, the bravest of all the gods. Leif tested the sword, flexing it one way and then another. “The weapon is well made. I am honored to use it. If the gods remain with me, it will serve my purpose well.”

Krista swallowed against the lump in her throat. There was no way Leif could possibly win a match against Matthew, a man who prided himself on his skill as a master swordsman. Only Leif didn’t seem to know that.

She turned to her father. “Is there nothing we can do to stop this, Father?”

He only shook his head. “It has gone too far, I fear. It is now a matter of honor.” He sighed. “This is all my fault. I should have known Matthew would disapprove of Leif staying here in the house with you.”

“It isn’t your fault. We were simply helping a man who needed our help very badly.”

“Still, Matthew is going to be your husband. I should have taken his feelings into consideration.” Paxton reached over and grasped her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. “Whatever happens, Matthew is not a murderer. I do not believe he intends to do any real harm to our friend.”

Krista wished she was more convinced. Her chest constricted. Unless a miracle occurred, even if Leif remained unharmed, when the match was over he would be forced to leave the house. A date would be set for her wedding to Matthew Carlton, and soon she would become his wife.

She looked over at Leif, who practiced with the sword, whipping the thin blade back and forth through the air. It would take a miracle for him to win, and yet she found herself praying that miracle would occur.

Praying that Leif would somehow win and set her free.

The thought was more than a little sobering.

Krista shook her head. It wasn’t going to happen. The best she could hope for was that Matthew would take pity on Leif and not hurt him too badly.

The following morning, Krista confronted the men as they left the house. “I’m going with you, Father.”

The day was dark and damp, a late summer drizzle blowing in off the Thames. Krista had risen early. She wasn’t about to let Leif face Matthew Carlton while she waited dutifully at home.

“A duel is scarcely the place for a woman,” her father said, “and whatever this match pretends to be, a duel is what it is. Now go back inside and wait until our return.”

Leif looked down at her, his eyes so blue it made her chest ache. “Do as your father says,
honning.
”

“I am going. If you two won’t take me, then I shall get there on my own. If Leif…If either of the men should be injured, I intend to be there to help tend his wounds. I am going, and there is no way you can stop me.”

Leif reached out and cupped her cheek. “So fierce, my little Valkyrie.” He looked over at her father, who gave a resigned sigh.

“When her mind is made up,” the professor said, “there is simply no stopping her.”

Leif smiled. “Come, then, if you must. Your friend Matthew will need some of your tending.”

Her eyes widened. Surely he didn’t believe he could actually win! True, he had stayed up well past midnight, poring over the books on fencing she and her father had collected for him from the library. But knowing how to swing a sword and developing a skill that required years of practice were two far different things.

They boarded the coach. Their driver, Mr. Skinner, had recovered from his untimely bout of illness—the work, no doubt, of the men who had attacked the carriage. He snapped the reins and pulled the team out into the tree-lined street. It didn’t take long to reach Matthew’s town house, also located in the fashionable Mayfair district.

The small group headed up the brick path toward the front door and the butler pulled it open before they reached the top of the stairs.

“Professor Carlton has been expecting you. He awaits your presence upstairs in the ballroom.”