Heart Of Honor
Krista Hart, publisher of the weekly London ladies' gazette Heart to Heart, is not afraid to speak her mind.Even on such unpopular issues as social reform–risking her reputation and her very safety–Krista will not be intimidated, although she knows full well she is the target of angry opposition for her outspoken views. When she encounters a powerful Viking descendant imprisoned as a local sideshow attraction, Krista angrily demands his release.Although she tells herself that freeing Leif Draugr is simply the right thing to do, she can't deny being attracted to the fierce Nordic chieftain, especially after her father transforms him into a "proper" English gentleman. But as anonymous threats against Krista become more and more aggressive, it is Leif who must face the unseen enemies desperate to silence her, even as they push her closer into the embrace of a warrior prepared to do whatever it takes to make her his.
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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
Authorâs 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 he was 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 shepherdâs 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 manâSnively, he was calledâbeat 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
âI tell you, girl, it is time you did your duty!â The Earl of Hamptonâs knotted, veined hand slammed down on the table.
Krista Hart jumped at the sound. âMy duty? It is scarcely my duty to marry a man I cannot abide!â They were attending a ball at the Duke of Mansfieldâs town mansion. Through the library walls, she could hear the music of an eight-piece orchestra playing in the lavish mirrored ballroom upstairs.
âWhat is wrong with Lord Albert?â A tall, silver-haired man, slightly stoopedâher grandfatherâfixed his pale blue eyes on her. âHe is young and not unattractive, the second son of the Marquess of Lindorf, a member of one of the most prominent families in England.â
âLord 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.â
Her grandfatherâs wrinkled face turned red. âIs 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 lineâand time is slipping away!â
