Warriors Of Legend (41 page)

“Kate did not do this, Micah,” John said softly. “For the love of God, listen to your heart, man!”

“I can’t, John,” he whispered. “I listened to my heart once before and it almost destroyed me.”

“Nay, Micah, if you do
not
listen then this will destroy you. You love Kate and that scares the hell out of you.”

Micah flinched then straightened his shoulders and strode to the keep with John behind him.

“What are you going to do, Micah?”

“I don’t know.” He threw open the door and it banged against the wall. “Kate,” he snapped. “A word with you.” He hurried up the stairs without bothering to look back. Instead of going to the solar, he entered Kate’s old room.

A moment later, she followed him through the door. “Micah?” She blinked up at him, her gray eyes innocently wide. “Micah, what’s wrong?”

He fought to control himself as his vision tinted red.

***

Kate stared at Micah, the muscles in his jaw twitched and his eyes flashed cold fury. Her heart lurched in alarm.

“Micah?”

He waved a paper before her. “I have discovered your plot. Did you think I was so stupid…so besotted with you that I wouldn’t?”

Kate’s mind scrambled but none of this made sense. Fear and confusion coiled through her. “What are you talking about?”

“Still playing the innocent maiden?” Micah thrust the letter into her hands. Kate quickly scanned it, her eyes widening in horror.

It was her handwriting.

Her mind reeled and she almost collapsed. How could this be? She had not written the note. But the evidence brutally stared back at her. The script was so perfect to hers, even she could not tell the difference. Someone else must have done this. But who…why…how? How could she hope to convince Micah otherwise? Kate had to find a way. She would never do anything like this, she loved him too much.

“Is it not your handwriting?”

“It looks—”

Micah strangled a cry of fury, clenching his fists.

Kate gasped and lurched back. “I did not write this, Micah,” she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. “Sweet Mary, I would never do anything like this.”

Micah stepped forward, his blue eyes cold with hatred.

“Please believe me, I would never betray you.”

He winced, his hand going to his side as if the old wound pained him. Abruptly, he turned his back on her, his head bowed. His anger seemed to fade. “I want to believe you, Kate,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with anguish. “But I cannot explain this letter.”

“I didn’t write it, Micah. I know how this looks but I would never do anything to hurt you. I know you don’t believe in love anymore but I do love you, Micah.”

***

Micah’s spirit recoiled and he hesitated.

I do love you, Micah.

Those words shredded his heart more. Dear God, how had he become so vulnerable? He tried to think through his fog of hurt and anger. Kate would say anything to free herself – just like Amaury had groveled for his life.

He turned and stared at her gray eyes, clearly seeing the anguish and terror within her. Although Micah did not give credence to superstition, he wondered if Kate had somehow managed to bewitch him.

A part of Micah wondered if Kate deserved every lash she had received, every scar on her delicate flesh, every instant of hatred permanently marked on her soul and her body.

But his heart shrank at the thought. He couldn’t stop himself as his fingers touched her cheek. She stood before him trembling, tears pouring from her beautiful gray eyes. Micah never knew why but he pulled her into his arms and held her. For a moment they were equal in every respect, equal in their heartbreak and sorrow.

Kate clung to him, fighting back sobs. Micah couldn’t stop the agony shredding his soul. Doubt and mistrust gnawed at him. What could he do? Did he dare believe her?

“I…I must think on this,” he whispered and pulled away. “You will stay in here until I decide.”

The spark in Kate’s eyes faded and her shoulders slumped.

Micah walked slowly to the door, each step more difficult than the last. The floor boards creaked under his boots, as if the noise announced the destruction of his spirit.

Kate turned. “Micah, please, please believe me.”

He hesitated at the door. Frozen with indecision. “Kate, I want nothing more.” He lifted his head and stared at her. “With you, I actually began to hope my dreams were real.”

She swallowed hard. “They are real, Micah.” Kate drew a shuddering breath and touched her chest. “What I feel for you is stronger than anything I have ever known. I know you feel it too. That’s why this is tearing you apart right now.”

Anguish again cut through him.
Love is a lie!
He stepped out of the room. “I will give you my decision tomorrow.” Slowly, he closed it behind him. Micah knew an eternity of torture that ended when his keys turned the lock in cold, metallic finality.

But the torture did not truly end. It only grew.

Micah plodded to his room and poured a cup of wine with a shaking hand. Wine was the only way to forget right now, until the ache dulled with time. Pain tightened his chest, and for a moment, he feared his heart would stop. A single tear rolled down his cheek. What was he going to do now?

The torment within him only grew in viciousness. He fought to keep from inhaling the sweet scent Kate had left in the room. The scent of roses clung to the pillows and bedding…the scent of desolate dreams and a dead heart.

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, John strode to Micah’s room, infuriated. The guests had left at dawn, their tongues wagging about the disastrous revel. The old lies and rumors of how Kate, alone, managed to survive MacLeary rose again. The people were certain she had been behind the plot to murder Micah.

John snarled a mental curse. He knew Kate would never do anything to hurt Micah but he remained alone in his opinion. Only Hubert agreed with him, and once again, John could not find the blasted huntsman.

While John would much prefer to have an ally, he decided he would do this alone if he must. He had to get Micah to see reason. John knew Kate loved Micah. He cursed the letter and Tobin. Betrayal plagued Micah, and he proved ill equipped to handle it. Had this happened any other way – no doubt Micah wouldn’t have reacted so violently. But now Kate suffered and Micah had lost his faith.

John beat his fist against on the door. He knew Micah had been drinking all night.

“Who is it?” Micah snapped.

“John.”

“Go away.”

John clenched his teeth and opened the door, closing it firmly behind him. “Not until you listen.”

Micah, his eyes bloodshot, glared at him. “Insurrection again?”

“Be silent,” John snapped, his anger close to the breaking point. “I’ve never known you to play the fool, Micah, ‘til now.”

Micah flinched and took another drink from his cup. “I find, in spite of myself, I am willing to entertain any theories of the letter.”

John arched an eyebrow, surprised Micah might be open to other possibilities. Unfortunately, John could not begin to explain the letter. “We must find the truth, Micah. I know Kate did not betray you.”

“How can you be so sure, John? You saw the evidence.”

“I also saw evidence of her love for you. When she thought you were dying, she wouldn’t leave your side.”

Micah snorted. “You probably saw her trying to kill me.”

“Blast you, Micah. Listen to me.” John stepped forward, clenching his fists. “You don’t know all I saw during your illness. If Kate tried to poison you why would she tell me exactly what she was doing? Why did she explain to me her reasons? She could have put enough Hemlock in your teas to stop you heart without my knowledge. If she truly wanted you dead, you would be.”

“Kate knew if I died suspicion would point at her. She gave you reasons not to blame her.”

“Damnation! Micah, I was with her when she held your head in her lap while you retched. I saw her change soiled bed linens that wreaked of poison. I helped her clean you up when you fouled yourself. She refused sleep for days simply to watch over you. And when she feared you would die, I saw her get on her knees and pray to God for your life, offering hers in place of it. Are those the actions of a woman who wants you dead?”

Micah blinked at him and John felt a surge of satisfaction. Kate’s actions during his illness demonstrated the strongest evidence against the letter.

His gaze dropped. “I don’t know, John,” he said softly. “I have failed her so terribly.”

John frowned, suddenly feeling there was much more to this – something he needed desperately to see. “Wait a moment,” he muttered. “You sound as if you are playing the devil’s advocate here.”

A brief spark returned to Micah’s bleak eyes but he covered it by looking away. “I am nothing if not thorough,” he said.

John knew his best friend well and suddenly understood. This was not some hateful ploy, but Micah’s effort to silence the raging doubt within him – a doubt Micah’s uncle had caused when his sword pierced Micah’s body. Because Micah had lost his parents at a young age, he had clung to the only family he had left. He had believed that bond stronger than petty politics. Unfortunately, Amaury had not held the same ideals and in one instant destroyed Micah’s faith in those ideals as well.

But John knew Kate possessed those ideals more powerfully than anyone. That was what Micah hoped for, that was what he needed to see proven.

“Micah, Kate is not your uncle.”

Micah’s face paled terribly. “If my uncle could justify my death at his own hand, Kate could certainly do the same. There is no true blood between us. She was forced into a marriage with me in order to maintain her home. Appleby should have been hers without complication. I understand her desire to remove that complication.”

John shook his head. “To Kate you are not a complication, Micah, but the man she loves. And believe me, her love for you is greater than any blood bond.”

“How can that be, John? She owes me no loyalty.”

“That is exactly why it is stronger, Micah. She owes you nothing but gives it of her own free will.”

Micah blinked at him. Abruptly he ducked his head, his face turning a slightly darker shade. “Aye, John, she has always given of herself even when I did not deserve it.”

“Why did she do that?”

“I do not know…her response to me is…baffling.”

John felt his lips tug upward. “You are a stubborn man, Micah. You refuse to see the love she has freely given you. Granted this marriage was forced, but you and Kate possessed something greater. Why did you not send her to a convent when you had the choice?”

“I could not bear to hurt her like that.”

“You could not bear to betray her.”

Micah’s head shot up.

“Because of that, Kate has granted you the strongest gift, Micah. She has granted you her love. She saw the strength in you, even though you refuse to see it in yourself.”

Micah turned away but John still saw the stubborn set to his jaw.

“You are like a castle under siege,” he growled. “You refuse to see the truth even when it batters you in the teeth.”

“If I make a mistake,” Micah said slowly. “There is much more at stake than the barony.”

“Blast you, Micah,” John barked. “Do you believe me an idiot? Look at the facts. Look at Tobin. If Kate truly masterminded a plot against you, why would he speak so openly and purposefully endanger her?”

“He is young and foolish.”

“God’s bones, man, think! If you plotted with the baron’s wife, would you leave such a note amongst your things? If Kate carried on with the stable boy, would she have boldly scrawled her very title and name at the bottom of such damning evidence? It’s poor strategy, Micah, and Kate is wiser than that.”

Micah thought for a long moment. “All right, perhaps we should talk to Tobin.”

John nodded in satisfaction, praying they could find the truth quickly. Kate’s life depended on it and so did Micah’s heart.

They descended into the dungeon. One of the two guards on duty accompanied them with the keys. Micah walked silently, his jaw tight and his expression grim.

The guard opened the door to Tobin’s cell. “On your feet, sod, your baron would speak to you.”

Tobin scrambled to his feet, backing into the corner, as John and Micah entered.

Micah clenched his fists, his mouth pressed into a hard line. “I have been more than patient with you. Explain yourself or I will order the truth beaten from you.”

Tobin hunched his shoulders but said nothing.

Micah snarled incoherently and John quickly stepped forward. “Tobin, where did you get the letter?”

“What letter?”

“I suffer no fools,” Micah snapped. “You know which letter.”

Tobin glared up at Micah. “From the baroness.”

“You lie,” John said.

“It matters not,” Tobin replied with a shrug. “There is a curse upon Appleby. You will die Baron Montfort.”

Micah stepped forward and backhanded the boy. Tobin slammed into the corner and slid to a floor, staring up at Micah in rage. “That is the same thing Sarah told me,” Micah said. “I thought you said you hated her.”

“I do hate her!”

“Why?” John asked. “Because she turned her favor towards William?”

“Because she turned it toward the huntsman.”

John hesitated in surprise, remembering the MacLeary huntsman who tried to free Sarah. His eyes narrowed in understanding. “She took the arrow for him. You cared for her and she gave her life to save the huntsman. That’s why you hate her, she loved him, not you.”

Tobin simply stared at him, his eyes murderous. His chest heaved as he fought to suck in his breath and sweat lined his face.

“Who paid you to kill me?” Micah asked.

“I cannot tell you.”

Micah raised his hand again. Tobin shot to his feet and John tensed ready to tackle him. The boy remained in the corner, fighting even harder to catch his breath.

“Who paid you? Tell me and I will let you live. Lie to me and I will have you drawn and quartered.”

Tobin’s eyes widened in horror.

Micah lowered his voice. “Think about it Tobin. It is difficult to spend gold when you are dead. Is it worth it? Is your life worth a few gold pieces which you won’t be able to enjoy?”