Zayin smiled. “A great and wise man once said that the world moves for love,” he said softly. “The world stands in awe of love. It worships the very breath upon which it is spoken. Your faith in love is what brought you through this, Garret, and your love for Lyssa is what will sustain you. I have faith that all will turn out as it should for the future.”
Garret thought of Lyssa, lying in his bed, perhaps dying, perhaps not. He’d never known a stronger urge than he did the urge to be at her side, at that very moment. He was almost panicked with it as he turned for the horses. Zayin followed.
“With Colchester gone and a new day dawning, I find that I want to share it all with Lyssa,” he said softly as they swiftly walked. “Nothing else matters right now but returning to her side. Even if I just have a few more precious moments with her, having known love… having experienced it… I will consider myself blessed to have something few men ever have.”
“Then you are the richest man I have ever known.”
Garret smiled weakly, but his anxiety to return to Westminster grew. Soon enough, he found his horse and prepared to depart with the droves of men that were already pouring from The Wix. The great conflict was over and now men would return home to tale tales of the duke who turned brother against brother, and the duchess who put an end to it all. Strange tales, indeed, as some might even accuse them of lying.
For certain, it had to be seen to be believed.
Once Garret mounted his steed, following the men to the gate, he happened to glance over and see Rose with several other women as they headed back into the manse, carrying a stretcher between them. It was then that he saw Gavin beside the stretcher, holding the hand of whoever was on it, and Garret suspected that Gavin had located his sister. Servants were rushing about, carrying torches, and helping the women back into The Wix where they would no longer live in fear.
The duchess had made sure of that.
Once Garret left The Wix, he pushed all thoughts of the duke, the battle, and the events of the night from his mind. Thundering down The Strand, he made it to Westminster ahead of most of his men, his knights bringing up the rear as they passed through the South Gate. Some of the men who had been sick were better now, up on the walls and waving in Garret and his knights, and the soldiers who had traveled with them to The Wix. Even at Westminster, all was as it should be as the new day dawned. But for Garret, he only had one thing on his mind.
Lyssa.
Dismounting his horse, he practically ran into the apartment block, charging into his quarters. As soon as he entered the reception room, he could see a faint light coming from his bedchamber and he went to the door, watching apprehensively from the doorway as Alpin bent over Lyssa. He couldn’t see what the man was doing so he took a few nervous steps in, his heart in his throat at what he would find. But when Alpin stepped away, he saw that the man had a bowl in his hand and a spoon. Before Garret could ask him of Lyssa condition, he heard a soft voice.
“Y-You have returned.”
It was Lyssa.
Startled to hear her voice, and even more startled to see that she was awake, he pushed past Alpin and took a knee beside the bed. After what he’d been through, he was having trouble controlling his emotions so he forced a smile as he gazed into her eyes, a big hand stroking her hair.
“Aye, I have,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her cheek tenderly. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” Alpin answered for her. He set the bowl down as Garret looked at him. “The lass woke up a few minutes ago and demanded food. If she’s hungry, ’tis a good sign.”
“Are you certain?”
“As certain as I can be. There is hope.”
Garret couldn’t describe the relief he felt at the news. He was weak with it. Briefly, he closed his eyes in thanks, feeling the tears threaten. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that Lyssa was looking at him.
“W-Where did you go?” she asked. “A-And why do you look so beaten?”
He didn’t want to tell her. Eventually, he would but, at the moment, he didn’t see the need. A story like that was for a time when she was stronger. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he could tell her without breaking down, so it was better if he didn’t for now.
“I fell off my horse,” he told her, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it gently.
Her brow furrowed. “I-I am to believe that?”
“For now.”
Lyssa didn’t push. He looked like he was about to break as it was, so she let it go. “T-Then at least tell me where you went,” she said. “T-To summon the priest?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “For what? Last rites? You must be mad.”
Lyssa smiled faintly. “T-That is not what I mean,” she said. “Y-You promised me a sunrise wedding.”
“Of course I did, but we should do it when you are feeling better.”
“W-Why?”
He couldn’t think of a good enough reason, and the lady got what the lady wanted. With Zayin, Gart, Rhys, Knox, and Walter as witnesses, the only priest they could locate at Westminster Abbey with the authority to perform a wedding mass joined Sir Garret de Moray and Lady Lyssa du Bose in marriage near the time of the nooning meal. The bride was in bed, the groom on his knees, and his friends crammed in to the small bedchamber to witness such an event. Even under what most would consider less than desirable circumstances, for those in that room, it wasn’t the surroundings that made the marriage.
It was the couple.
The final words Garret spoke to his new wife, paraphrased from Zayin, confirmed that love was, indeed, alive and well in the heart of Garret de Moray, for the love he spoke of was the strongest thing about him, the shield which he would bear for a lifetime. A strength that could only come from a love stronger than time itself.
“The world moves for love. It stands in awe of love. It worships the very breath upon which it is spoken. My faith in love is what binds me to you and my love for you is what will sustain me until the end of all things.”
Finally, Kronos, the man who was great and wise in all things, the man who had once been accused by men of being immortal, knew the true meaning of a life everlasting.
The key was love.
* THE END *
Children of Garret and Lyssa
Bose
Lara
Nicola
Sage
Roan
Chaunce
THE RED LION
A Medieval Romance
Lions of the Highlands Series, Book One
By Kathryn Le Veque
Author’s Note
Jamison and Havilland were first introduced in the “Once Upon A Haunted Castle” collection released in September 2016. I wrote a novella for the collection entitled DEEP INTO DARKNESS. I had such a great time writing about Jamison and Havilland that I knew I had to write a “big” book for them – how they met – so here it is in THE RED LION.
Now, let’s be clear about this book – it has a highland hero. My first! Jamison is a Highlander to the bone, born and raised in the highlands for the most part. However, not much of this book actually takes place in the highlands, although it is the backdrop for some of the chapters. Most of the action is in Wales. There’s a lot of traveling in this book!
Secondly, let’s discuss the character names – Havilland’s last name is de Llion, which is a hybrid Welsh/Norman name. Family history says that the original family name was something else until the Normans came and it was Normans who gave them the name, for regional identification purposes, that is used in this book. The rub is this – the double “L” in the Welsh language is a sound unnatural to English-speaking folks. It’s kind of a hissing sound – the best way to do it is to put your tongue to your teeth as if you are about to pronounce “L”, but then blow hard so air hisses out over the sides of your tongue. That’s the double “L” sound of Llion!
For our purposes, the name has evolved a bit. The Normans don’t like that odd sound, so the way they pronounce the
name is more like “duh-lee-OWN”. They’ve Anglicized the Welsh name because, well, they’re Normans and that’s what they do. They make things to their liking. And Havilland’s name is pronounced just like the name of the great star, Olivia de Havilland. No odd Welsh pronunciation there. In fact, the name is an homage to one of the greatest actresses of the Golden Age of Hollywood. Miss Olivia is a tough bird, as is our heroine. When you envision Havilland de Llion, there is a good deal of Miss Olivia in her.
So have fun reading this book and enjoying the variety of characters in it, including the introduction of the next three members of the Lions of the Highlands series – The White Dragon, The Gray Fox, and The Black Falcon. These gentlemen play a significant role in this book and I hope you enjoy them.
Now, go forth and read!
Love,
Kathryn
Dedication
There are so many people to thank in my life, people who support me in more ways than one.
There is my husband, Rob, who really lives the life of a bachelor while I’m on a deadline but at least he’s a good sport about it. He understands a thing or two about living the dream. There are my parents who ‘try’ not to call me when I’m on a deadline and who are utterly thrilled with this life I lead. There are my children, of course, who couldn’t be happier that I do what I do.
And then there is my professional team – my editor who swears at me when I send him a book to edit with two days until the deadline, and my administrative assistant who keeps the Le Veque machine running even when I try to ignore her questions because I’m on that much-mentioned deadline. I adore both Sdcott Moreland and Kris Newberger, and couldn’t get along without them. New team member Samantha Williams is really stepping up and helping me with her PA and marketing support.
In a word? I’m blessed, and I don’t use that term lightly. But I owe the most to my fabulous readers who make me an author. Without ‘you’, there is no ‘me’, so to all of you, thank you from the bottom of my heart!
Dread God
Clan Munro Motto
PROLOGUE
*
“Do ye see what yer lust
has cost me…?”
*
August, Year of our Lord 1288
Village of Strathpeffer
Lands of Clan MacKenzie, Scottish Highlands
“Ye know I’ve been a-wantin’ ye, lass. I never thought I’d be alone wit’ch ye.”
A soft giggle filled the stale, urine-smelling air of the barn. “Dunna keep me waitin’,” a woman long, dark hair said, lurching forward to capture his lower lip between her two teeth. “I canna promise we will be alone for long.”
The man groaned as she nibbled at his lower lip. A hand, rough and calloused, began to pull down the shoulder of her simple shift. He very much wanted the treasures that lay beneath that garment.
“I thought ye said yer brother was a-huntin’,” he said, the hand on her shoulder moving to her breast.
“He is – but I dunna know when he’ll return!”
The woman gasped as the man pinched her nipple through the fabric. Buried in a pile of dried grass that was shoved back into a corner of a sod-roofed barn, they had as much privacy as they were going to get given the circumstances. Two cows, a calf, three goats, and a smattering of kids watched as the big, auburn-haired Highlander suckled on the woman’s neck as he fondled her through her shift.
As the woman moaned and writhed, he managed to get both hands underneath her shift, pulling it up to reveal the unfurling flower between her legs. When he touched her there, she squealed, causing the goats to jump nervously. And when he inserted a dirty, rough finger deep into her woman’s core, she grabbed at his hair, pulling his face down to the junction between her legs. The man growled, hungrily, and she moaned as he descended on her, feeding furiously on her flesh. He had waited a very long time for this moment and he was going to taste this shameless piece of female meat if it killed him.
And it just might.
“Eva!”
The shout came from outside the sod structure and the woman started, spurred by the sound of her name. The man’s head came up from her groin, his blue eyes narrowed.
“I thought ye said he was a-huntin’!” the man hissed.
The woman nodded wildly even as the man bolted to his feet, struggling to tie up the breeches that had been unfastened and twisted around his thighs.
“He was!” she gasped, quickly attempting to pull down her shift and cover up the breast the man had managed to expose. “Quickly, Robbie! Go from the window!”
Robert Munro was already heading in that direction. The problem was that he was certain that he was too big to slip through the narrow ventilation window built into the sod wall. Still, he had to try. More than that, he was angry to find himself in this situation because he’d brought his brother along to prevent an occurrence such as this.
Why hadn’t Jamison warned him?
Infuriated, he raced to the ventilation window and immediately determined that there was no way he could squeeze his bulk through it. The call came again, a concerned brother crying for his sister, and Robert turned swiftly towards the sound only to realize the woman was standing directly behind him. He’d ended up smacking her in the head with his elbow when he turned around, hitting her so hard that he knocked the woman unconscious.
Anger turned to disbelief when he realized what he’d done. He bent down and scooped the woman up, trying to figure out what in the hell he was going to do now. If Eva’s brother came in and found him with the man’s unconscious sister in his arms, his life would be worth no more than the dirt beneath his feet. In a panic, he caught a glimpse of the ventilation window again and a thought occurred to him – Eva was small enough to fit through it.
Sweet Jesú, he didn’t want Connell the Crazed to find him with his sister!
“Eva!”
Frantically, Robert pushed Eva right through the ventilation window, hearing her hit the ground softly on the other side. That was all he could do for her, God forgive him. Cast her off like so much rubbish to save his own foolish life. Brushing his hands off, making sure there were no signs of a woman on his body, Robert very casually emerged from the sod barn.
“Are ye lookin’ fer yer sister, Connell?” he asked oh-so-casually. “I canna find the lass, either. Did she go tae the town, then?”
Connell MacKenzie’s eyes narrowed at Robert Munro, third son of George Munro, chief of Clan Munro. Connell’s father, Somerled, was also the head of his clan. George and Somerled weren’t exactly allies but they weren’t exactly enemies. There was a strained peace between them at the moment. However, that didn’t give Robert leave to trespass on MacKenzie lands.
“What are ye doin’ here?” Connell demanded. “Ye have no need tae seek out me sister.”
Robert held up his hands to show he was no threat. “Me mother has a likin’ fer Eva’s goat stock,” he said, grasping at an excused he’d long planned were it to be needed. “I’ve come here tae do me mother’s biddin’, Connell. Me mum wants one of Eva’s young male kids.”
Connell was still frowning. He wasn’t entirely sure he believed the man; that was evident. Standing in the yard of the sod barn, they were ankle-deep in fetid mud as the gentle sea breezes blew in from the east. But the mood that had settled between them was anything but gentle. It was increasingly dark with suspicion. Connell took his eyes from Robert long enough to look around again for his sister.
“I’ll not have ye wanderin’ the barn,” he finally said. “Go stand by the house. I’ll find me sister.”
Robert complied, or at least pretended to. He needed to get out of there, and quickly, so going to stand by the house wasn’t part of that plan. All Connell had to do was walk around the side of the barn and find Eva lying in the mud, unconscious. If that happened, Robert needed to have a head start on the man. Therefore, he had to leave, and leave quickly.
“There’s no hurry,” Robert said, backing away across the yard. “
I’ll come back another time. I’ll tell me mum she’ll have tae wait. Mayhap she will come see Eva herself.”
Stop rambling! He silently scolded himself, turning for the fence that enclosed the mucky yard. If Connell wasn’t already suspicious enough, mindless chatter would only make it worse.
Robert deftly leapt over the stone fence of the barnyard, praying he could get away cleanly and wondering all the while where Jamison was. It wasn’t like the man not to be near, especially in a circumstance like this. Robert had come to see the woman he loved, or at least the woman he thought he loved. He’d been dreaming about her long enough. That brief taste of her flesh had only served to fuel his fire.
“Wait,” Connell called after him. “Ye’re not a-leavin’ yet. I told ye tae go stand by the house.”
Robert was still walking as he turned to the man, who was beginning to follow him. “Why?” he asked. “My business is finished here. When ye find yer sister, tell her what I came fer. That way, she’ll know when me mum comes tae see her.”
“I told ye not tae go.”
“I’m not stayin’.”
After that, the chase was on.
*
Damn Robbie.
Astride a big, shaggy brown stallion, Jamison Munro was perched on the rise to the north, overlooking the MacKenzie farm where his brother, Robert, had so recently run off to. A lass, Robbie had said enthusiastically. A lass with the beauty of the angels. Jamison knew the lass and he also knew her brother, and he was quite certain no good could come of Robert’s lust.
Eva MacKenzie had an older brother who was called Sach, a term in Gaelic that meant madness. Connell the Crazed was not someone Jamison had any desire to defend his brother against but Robert was, after all, his brother, and the man was lusting seriously after a woman who had sampled more than her share of men. Eva was pretty but she wasn’t pure. At least, that was the rumor, which was probably why Robert was so determined to have a piece of her. Little Robbie Munro liked women too much and, more than once, Jamison had been forced to protect his brother from irate fathers and uncles and brothers.