Warriors Of Legend (60 page)

“I request to speak with your daughter.”

“Your business with Estella is finished. If you have come to accost us again, I will have the sheriff —”

“Unlike you, we are unarmed,” Ulric said, interrupting her father. “There is no need to involve the sheriff.”

Her father’s horse stamped its feet impatiently.

Both Alys and Marguerite sat upon their horses, staring at the two large knights. Their faces held a mixture of awe, distrust and outrage. No matter how many times they saw the knights, they were rendered speechless, even if it was only momentary. And indeed, they couldn’t be blamed for their behavior, because even though the knights carried no weapons, they still looked dangerous.

“What do you suppose Sir Gavin wants to speak to you about?” Alys said in a low, disapproving voice. “Did he come after you to make you cry again?”

“Aye,” Marguerite said, her voice thin with anger. “Do not go to him. He has hurt you enough.”

Estella shook her head. “‘Tis best that I see what he wants before things escalate.” Ignoring her sisters’ further protests, she slid off her horse and approached the men. “‘Tis all right, Father,” she said. “Please, Sir Etienne, put away your broadsword. I will speak with Sir Gavin.”

Gavin nodded at her. “Thank you, my lady. As you can see, I have no wish to fight your father’s men.”

Her father grunted. “Be quick about it,” he said, his voice gruff. “‘Tis cold out, and I want to be away from this place.”

Ulric sat on his courser, his attention fixed on the two men that had held him captive. The men steadied their horses, watching him uneasily. Meanwhile her sisters craned their necks, not even bothering to hide their curiosity or suspicion as Gavin got off his horse and led Estella away from them.

Satisfied that they were far enough from the group, Gavin spun her around so that his broad back blocked their view. “I came to ask you for your forgiveness,” he said.

“‘Tis I that need your forgiveness.”

He shook his head impatiently. “I was not being truthful with you. I would have told you about Rose right from the start. However I had to see for myself that you were a worthy mother for Rose.”

“What I do not understand is why you did not find a more suitable woman to begin with,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “My sisters and I are hardly special.”

“Do you think that I couldn’t find a woman to wed? There are a number of women who would gladly take up residence at Ashburn Castle. But I desire someone whose heart is pure and kind.”

She uncrossed her arms and frowned at him, still not fully convinced. “You declared that any one of us would do. Those were your exact words. Do you deny it?”

“Nay, when Ulrich and I showed up at your hall, I didn’t immediately expect to find a woman worthy of becoming Rose’s mother. But when you stood up to us and sacrificed yourself for your sisters, I knew right then that you were selfless, courageous and honorable.”

“However I still wanted to put you through a test to see if you could truly love Rose as your own child.” A shadow crossed his face. “I know how ‘tis when you’re starved for a mother’s love and you don’t get anything, not even pity.”

Something in her heart thawed. She touched his arm to bring him back to the present. “I am sorry that your step–mother did not love you, Gavin.”

He shook his head as if to clear away the old memory. “I didn’t come after you to speak about my step–mother,” he said, searching her face earnestly. “I wanted you to genuinely love Rose. The last thing I desired was for you to act out of pity for her. Pity is not what she needs after her mother’s death and her father’s neglect.”

Gavin reached for her hand and held it to his heart. She felt the slow, steady beat underneath her palm.

“When I came to know you, I believed that you were the one that Rose needed. And as I was about to lose you, I realized that ‘twas
I
who needed you. That’s why I must ask again, will you forgive me? Will you give us a second chance?”

“I forgive you,” she said, nodding slowly. “But I thought you hated me.”

“Nay,” he said, lifting her cold hand and pressing it to his lips. “I could never hate you.”

A horse whinnied, and her sisters’ voices carried in the background, but Estella barely heard the sounds.

She smiled up at Gavin, a feeling of relief warming her body. And when she looked into his eyes, she became drowned in their depths.

Large snowflakes floated down and settled on her upturned face. He gently wiped the flakes from her cheek. “Fairy dust,” he said. “I’m told that all I need to do is make a wish. Then I can have anything I desire…”

“What is it that you desire?” she asked softly.

He pulled her closer to him. They were inches apart, their lips almost touching. A warm glow reflected in his eyes. “To start over with you,” he whispered.

She slowly twined her arms around his neck, “I believe your wish will come true,” she said.

“Are you finished speaking now?” her father’s impatient voice called out, interrupting them.

“We should get back,” Estella said reluctantly.

“They can wait a little while longer,” he said, smiling at her. The expression on his face turned soft and teasing. “If I remember correctly there’s a partially decorated hall that needs your attention,
and
a young lady who’s expecting you at the Christmas feast…”

Estella smiled back. “Is that your way of asking me to return to Ashburn Castle?”

“Nay,” he said, “this is.” He bent his head and locked his lips with hers.

And all the while the snow drifted down around them, sprinkling them with the magic of winter and the whispered promise of new beginnings.

About the Authors

Kathryn Le Veque
is one of Amazon’s top selling Historical Romance authors, consistently ranked in the top 50 authors for Historical novels. She has a dominant presence in the Medieval category with several novels in the Top 100 Medieval Romance rankings. She distinguishes herself because she writes hardcore English Medieval novels… no Highlander, Scottish, or Viking … purely English High Middle Age passion and adventure with an occasional venture into Irish or Welsh. She has also authored several well–received contemporary novels.

Kathryn has been featured regularly on Kindle Nation, Coastal Conversations, Confessions of Romaholics, Goodreads, Bookbub, and a host of other blogs and websites. Kathryn is an award–winning author and has legions of dedicated fans all over the world.

Kathryn’s Medieval Historicals have been called ‘detailed’, ‘highly romantic’, and ‘character–rich’. She believes that total immersion in a time period is essential to creating the perfect story. More than that, she writes for both women AND men – an unusual crossover for a romance author – and Kathryn has many male readers who enjoy her stories because of the male perspective, the action, and the adventure. Kathryn is the author of 41 novels and counting.

See Kathryn’s fan page on Facebook at
Kathryn Le Veque, Author.

Join her on Twitter
@kathrynleveque

Visit her website at
www.kathrynleveque.com

Kathryn Loch
has been active in the publishing community since 1996. She has held offices such as president and treasurer in her local writer’s guild. The guild hosts an annual writers conference bringing in respected NY editors, agents and published authors to educate, network, and inform. She published her first novel, Primal Entities: Chaos, a medieval fantasy romance, in 2001 and is now exploring the market with e–books.

Kathryn is not only an award winning author but a successful table–top gaming miniature painter. While trying to paint the eyeballs on something smaller than your thumb is never easy, Kathryn enjoys the creative endeavors of both industries and challenge they provide.

She has also recently joined forces with Historical Editorial and owner, Jenny Quinlan, to assist with developmental and copy–editing! New projects are in the works and the back catalog is to be improved as scheduling allows. See her Facebook fan page at
www.facebook.com/KathrynLoch.Author

Dana D’Angelo
is the only girl from a family of nine children. As a teenager, there was a constant battle for the T.V. remote, which she lost, so she was forced to find her amusement in books. A friend got her into romances, and soon she read as many as ten romance novels per week, spending hours with her nose pressed between the pages, skipping meals and cutting out sleep. Life, it seemed, wasn’t as exciting or interesting as in the Medieval or Regency eras.

It wasn’t until she was married with two young kids that she decided to take a stab at writing her own historical romance novels.

She is intrigued with the idea of writing romantic stories that could bring hours of enjoyment to readers, help them escape from reality, and perhaps remind them how sweet love is and should be. These are the things that she enjoys as a reader, and these are the things that she wants to give back as a writer.

Dana lives in a city east of Toronto, Canada. When she’s not writing or reading, she’s dining at local restaurants with her husband and kids and enjoying spectacular foods of the world.

To get the latest news and updates on new releases visit
www.dana-dangelo.com
or her
Facebook fan page

To Our Valued Readers …

Thank you for purchasing this collection of novellas. If you enjoyed this book and believe that it’s a book worth sharing, would you take a few seconds to let your friends know about it, and by reviewing it on Amazon? Your support means so much to us and we appreciate your help in spreading the word.

Sincerely,

Kathryn Le Veque, Kathryn Loch, and Dana D’Angelo

Other books by the Authors

Be sure to check out other intriguing tales by these authors. Available now on Amazon!

For information on Kathryn Le Veque’s bestselling books, see her fan page on Facebook at
Kathryn Le Veque, Author
, join her on Twitter
@kathrynleveque
, or visit her website at
www.kathrynleveque.com

Demon Laird (Legacy of the Mist Clans) by Kathryn Loch

Captured and tortured by the English during Longshanks’s war against the Scots, Ronan MacGrigor finds the strength to escape, only to suffer the fear and rejection of his own clan. Forced to stalk the shadows at night, Ronan becomes a prisoner of illness, fear, and memories.

Fearing for his life, his brother summons a healer whose reputation borders on that of a miracle worker, but she comes from the land of the Sassenach, the very people who tried to destroy Ronan.

A foundling, Lia knows little about wars or politics, she knows only how to treat the wounds they create, and her dedication to healing knows no borders.

But the Demon Laird cannot abide a Sassenach within his home, and when a mysterious plague strikes the villagers, he looks to the woman of an enemy nation to be its cause. Even in the face of Ronan’s hatred of her and the superstitious fear of the clan, Lia knows she must stand for the truth.

Despite their fear of him, Ronan’s only goal is to protect his clan from the vicious war raging around them, but when the enemy is at his gates, the Demon Laird must answer. Lia wages her own war, that of healing the soul of a tormented laird—where all others have fled in terror, she refuses to run.

The villagers whisper of a curse—the Demon Laird made a deal with the devil—now the devil demands his due.

Excerpt:

“Are all castles this dark?” Lia asked, her voice a bare whisper.

Connell looked around, a worried frown marring his brow. “Nay,” he said, his voice matching hers. “‘Twas not like this when we left.”

“It’s cold,” she murmured, shivering.

“It can get a wee bit dark and drafty,” Robert said. “But usually in winter, and it never be like this in summer.”

A single torch guttered in a wall stanchion on her right. On her left, barely visible was a stairwell disappearing into the blackness. A chill breath of air lifted the hairs on her arm and the silence that greeted her pricked the gooseflesh crawling down her spine. Her own breathing rattled in her ears, and her heartbeat thundered against her ribs. Behind her, the door to the keep boomed shut and she turned slightly to her left, dismayed to see her only means of escape blocked by a heavy oak door.

“Saints be merciful,” Robert muttered. “What has happened here?”

“I dinna ken,” Connell said. “Perhaps we should find Aidan.”

“We should take the lassie directly tae the MacGrigor.”

“Nay, something is verra wrong here.”

“At least the wench didna steal all of the gold that my brother sent with ye,” a deep voice whispered behind her.

Lia’s heart threatened to stop. She jumped and spun then blinked. In the dark stairwell, a giant of a man seemed to materialize out of the blackness, heavily cloaked, his cowl pulled low. He stepped forward into the dim light of the torch, but she could not see his face.

“MacGrigor?” Robert asked in shock. “Ye… ye are recovered? We feared ye would not survive long enough for us tae fetch the healer.”

“Ye fool,” MacGrigor snarled. “How dare ye bring an Englishwoman here?”

“But she is a healer.”

Lia swallowed hard and lifted her chin. “Aye,” she said, praying her voice didn’t shake. “I heard you had need of one.”

He took a second step forward, the torchlight falling on his face. Lia’s heart hesitated again but for an entirely different reason. She was a tall woman, but she felt as if she had to crane her neck to look up at him. Steel–gray eyes gazed at her, smoldering in fury. His long black hair framed his face perfectly under the cowl of his cloak. He had a broad forehead and high, prominent cheekbones. His jaw was strong and proud, although his nose appeared to have been recently broken. His lips were full and sensuous but pressed in a hard line. Underneath the volumes of fabric of his cloak, his massive shoulders and chest filled her vision.

Lia drew a deep breath, a tremor passing through her.