Kat Martin - Heart of Honor

KAT MARTIN

Heart of Honor

To my mom, who recently passed away,

for all her years of love and support.

I miss you, Mom.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Epilogue

Authors Note

Coming Next Month

One

England, 1842

Leif shivered beneath the thin blanket that was all he had to warm his nearly naked body against the chill. It was not yet spring, the country roads muddy or still partly frozen. A weak sun appeared sporadically, sifting through the clouds, shining here and there for a few brief moments before disappearing again.

A sharp wind whipped the edge of the blanket and Leif pulled it closer around him. He had no idea where he was, only that he traveled through a rolling countryside marked by occasional villages, on uneven roads lined with low walls made of stone. He had been in this land for more than four passings of the moon, though mayhap he had lost track of time. All he knew for certain was that his small ship had been dashed against a rocky shore somewhere north of here, carrying his nine companions to a watery grave and leaving his own body broken and battered.

A shepherd had found him lying in the icy surf and had taken him in, nursing him through a burning fever. Leif had been barely among the living when traders came, paid the shepherd in silver coin and dragged Leif away.

They wanted him because he looked different, because hewas different than any of the men in this foreign land. He could not speak their language, nor understand a word of what they said, which seemed to amuse them and somehow enhance his worth. He was at least five inches taller than most of the men, his body far more muscular. Though some of them were blond, as he was, few wore beards, and none as long and shaggy as his. And their hair was cut short, while his grew past his shoulders.

Leif had been weak, unable to defend himself, when he had been lifted into the back of a wagon and driven from the shepherds hut. As his strength began to return, the people who had taken him began to fear him, and his legs and arms were shackled with bands of heavy iron. He was shoved into a cage not nearly big enough for a man of his size, forced to crouch in the straw on the floor like an animal.

He was a prisoner in this hostile land, an oddity to be displayed to the people of the countryside, a cruel form of entertainment. They paid to see him, he knew. The fat man with a scar on his face who brought him food collected coins from the people who gathered around his cage. The manSnively, he was calledbeat and prodded him, goaded him into a violent temper, which seemed to please the crowd who had paid their money to see him.

Leif hated the man. He hated all of them.

Where he had lived, he was a free man, a man of rank among his people. His father had begged him not to leave the safety of his home, but Leif had been driven to see the world beyond his island. Since then, he had seen little outside his cage, and the hate and anger inside him gnawed like a hungry beast. Daily he prayed to the gods to help him escape, to give him strength until that time came. He promised himself it would happen, vowed he would make it so, and it was all that kept him sane.

But day after day, no chance came and the despair inside him deepened. He felt as if he were becoming the animal they drove him to be, and only in death would he ever find peace.

Leif fought the dark despair and clung to the faint hope that someday he would again be free.

Two

London, England

1842

Itell you, girl, it is time you did your duty! The Earl of Hamptons knotted, veined hand slammed down on the table.

Krista Hart jumped at the sound. My duty? It is scarcely myduty to marry a man I cannot abide! They were attending a ball at the Duke of Mansfields town mansion. Through the library walls, she could hear the music of an eight-piece orchestra playing in the lavish mirrored ballroom upstairs.

What is wrong with Lord Albert? A tall, silver-haired man, slightly stoopedher grandfatherfixed his pale blue eyes on her. He is young and not unattractive, the second son of the Marquess of Lindorf, a member of one of the most prominent families in England.

Lord Albert is a complete and utter toad. The man is vain and prissy and full of himself. He is conceited and not particularly intelligent, and I am not the least bit interested in marrying him.

Her grandfathers wrinkled face turned red. Is there a man in the whole of London who would please you, Krista? I am beginning to believe there is not. It is your responsibility to provide me with a grandson to secure the lineand time is slipping away!

I know my duty, Grandfather. I have been told often enough. With no direct male heirs, by special writ of the late king the Hampton title could pass through the female side of the family to the first male offspring. After her mother had died, it became Kristas sworn duty, her family believed, to provide that heir. I am not disinclined to marriage. It is just

Just that you are too busy running that confoundedgazette of yours. He said the word with a vehemence that matched the ruddy hue of his face. Your father indulged your mother in her silly desire to work like a commoner, and now he is indulging you. No decent woman of our social class holds ajob, for Gods sake. Or associates with the lower elements, as you do in order to produce your ridiculous magazine.

Heart to Heartis not the least bit ridiculous. Our articles are educational as well as informative, and I am extremely proud of the work we do.

He made a harrumphing sound. Your blasted gazette aside, it is time you thought of the future, time you assumed your responsibilities as my only surviving offspring and gave me the heir I need.

Krista walked toward him, the petticoats beneath the full skirt of her plum silk gown swishing against her legs as she approached where he stood next to the ornate table in the library. Theyd had this conversation a number of times beforealways with the same resultbut she loved her grandfather and she didnt want to displease him.

Leaning over, she kissed his pale cheek. I want a husband and family nearly as much as you want me to have them, Grandfather, but I refuse to marry a man like Lord Albert. I am certain that in time I will meet the right man.

And perhaps she already had. Last week she had made the acquaintance of a friend of her fathers named Matthew Carlton. Matthew was an associate professor and the second son of the Earl of Lisemore, just the sort of man her family wanted her to wed, and Matthew had truly seemed interested in pursuing a relationship.

Still, she didnt dare mention that fact to her grandfather for fear he would begin to pressure her and perhaps even Matthew.

The earl looked her in the eye. I dont want you to be unhappy. You understand that, dont you?

I know. In time, it will surely work out. At least that was what she hoped. But she was different from other women of her social class: unfashionably taller, more buxommore independent. She didnt have a line of suitors waiting outside her door, and her grandfather knew it.