Romantic Legends Read online

  Romantic Legends

  Kathryn Le Veque • Hildie McQueen • Madeline Martin • Meara Platt • Collette Cameron • Anna Markland • Victoria Vane • Catherine Kean • Elizabeth Rose

  Valiant Chaos

  Copyright © 2007, 2014 Kathryn Le Veque

  Highlander’s Captive

  Copyright © 2016 Hildie McQueen

  A Ghostly Tale of Forbidden Love

  Copyright © 2017 Madeline Martin

  The May Fair Princess

  Copyright © 2017 Meara Platt

  A Kiss for Miss Kingsley

  Copyright © 2015 Collette Cameron

  Courageous Heart

  Copyright © 2016 Anna Markland

  Jewel of the East

  Copyright © 2015 Victoria Vane

  A Knight’s Seduction

  Copyright © 2015 Catherine Kean

  A Viking’s Promise

  Copyright © 2015 Elizabeth Rose Krejcik

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contents

  Valiant Chaos

  Kathryn Le Veque

  Highlander’s Captive

  Hildie McQueen

  A Ghostly Tale of Forbidden Love

  Madeline Martin

  The May Fair Princess

  Meara Platt

  A Kiss for Miss Kingsley

  Collette Cameron

  Courageous Heart

  Anna Markland

  Jewel of the East

  Victoria Vane

  A Knight’s Seduction

  Catherine Kean

  A Viking’s Promise

  Elizabeth Rose

  Valiant Chaos

  A Medieval Historical Romance

  (formerly titled FOR LOVE AND HONOR)

  Kathryn Le Veque

  Kathryn Le Veque Novels

  Medieval Romance:

  The de Russe Legacy:

  The White Lord of Wellesbourne

  The Dark One: Dark Knight

  Beast

  Lord of War: Black Angel

  The Falls of Erith

  The Iron Knight

  The de Lohr Dynasty:

  While Angels Slept (Lords of East Anglia)

  Rise of the Defender

  Steelheart

  Spectre of the Sword

  Archangel

  Unending Love

  Shadowmoor

  Silversword

  Great Lords of le Bec:

  Great Protector

  To the Lady Born (House of de Royans)

  Lord of Winter (Lords of de Royans)

  Lords of Eire:

  The Darkland (Master Knights of Connaught)

  Black Sword

  Echoes of Ancient Dreams (time travel)

  De Wolfe Pack Series:

  The Wolfe

  Serpent

  Scorpion (Saxon Lords of Hage – Also related to The Questing)

  The Lion of the North

  Walls of Babylon

  Dark Destroyer

  Nighthawk

  Ancient Kings of Anglecynn:

  The Whispering Night

  Netherworld

  Battle Lords of de Velt:

  The Dark Lord

  Devil’s Dominion

  Reign of the House of de Winter:

  Lespada

  Swords and Shields (also related to The Questing, While Angels Slept)

  De Reyne Domination:

  Guardian of Darkness

  The Fallen One (part of Dragonblade Series)

  Unrelated characters or family groups:

  The Gorgon (Also related to Lords of Thunder)

  The Warrior Poet (St. John and de Gare)

  Tender is the Knight (House of d’Vant)

  Lord of Light

  The Questing (related to The Dark Lord, Scorpion)

  The Legend (House of Summerlin)

  The Dragonblade Series: (Great Marcher Lords of de Lara)

  Dragonblade

  Island of Glass (House of St. Hever)

  The Savage Curtain (Lords of Pembury)

  The Fallen One (De Reyne Domination)

  Fragments of Grace (House of St. Hever)

  Lord of the Shadows

  Queen of Lost Stars (House of St. Hever)

  Lords of Thunder: The de Shera Brotherhood Trilogy

  The Thunder Lord

  The Thunder Warrior

  The Thunder Knight

  Highland Warriors of Munro

  The Red Lion

  Time Travel Romance: (Saxon Lords of Hage)

  The Crusader

  Kingdom Come

  Contemporary Romance:

  Kathlyn Trent/Marcus Burton Series:

  Valley of the Shadow

  The Eden Factor

  Canyon of the Sphinx

  The American Heroes Series:

  The Lucius Robe

  Fires of Autumn

  Evenshade

  Sea of Dreams

  Purgatory

  Other Contemporary Romance:

  Lady of Heaven

  Darkling, I Listen

  In the Dreaming Hour

  Multi-author Collections/Anthologies:

  With Dreams Only of You (USA Today bestseller)

  Sirens of the Northern Seas (Viking romance)

  Ever My Love (sequel to With Dreams Only Of You) July 2016

  Kindle Worlds (Kathryn Le Veque World of de Wolfe Pack):

  River’s End

  The Wedding Fountain (Bella Andre’s Kindle World)

  Note: All Kathryn’s novels are designed to be read as stand-alones, although many have cross-over characters or cross-over family groups. Novels that are grouped together have related characters or family groups.

  Series are clearly marked. All series contain the same characters or family groups except the American Heroes Series, which is an anthology with unrelated characters.

  There is NO particular chronological order for any of the novels because they can all be read as stand-alones, even the series.

  For more information, find it in A Reader’s Guide to the Medieval World of Le Veque.

  Author’s Foreword

  This novel was originally titled FOR LOVE AND HONOR. I want to make that very clear for those readers who may have read that novel before. Before you groan and say “I already read this book! What’s she doing publishing this with a different title?!”, hear me out – when I originally wrote the novel, it was an ‘out of the box’ romance with what I considered to be a twist ending. However, many readers didn’t feel that way – they thought it was, to put it mildly, a disappointing ending. In the original novel, the heroine did not end up with the hero.

  Now, there are a lot of reasons for that – she came from a very upper class family and the hero is basically a foot soldier. They had a torrid, passionate relationship that was just never meant to last. Things like that never are. In the end, she had to choose between love or honor, and she chose honor because she spends the entire novel basically behaving like a love-struck girl. She does some dumb things, but who hasn’t when they’ve been in love? In the end, she really had no choice and ended up with someone else.

  Readers either loved it or hated it. I have 49 published novels and this was the only novel that received such polarizing reviews – either five star or one star. Eventually, it was split d
own the middle, which gave the book a terrible rating. Therefore, I have decided to do something that, under normal circumstances, I would never do – I have decided to re-write the ending so that readers might get their warm and fuzzy HEA.

  It was a tough decision because the #1 rule in writing – at least in my writing – is never let the readers tell you what, or how, to write, but in this case, I could understand their point. I took a risk and it only mildly paid off. So I pulled FOR LOVE AND HONOR off sale and let it sit for about a year while I debated what to do. I ultimately decided to re-write the ending because I believe that in the long run, it’s the right thing to do. Readers love out of the box novels but in my experience, don’t screw with their HEA’s. So… I fixed it. I love my readers too much not to do them justice – plus, it’s a good story that deserved to be heard.

  Therefore, if you’re one of the readers who read FOR LOVE AND HONOR prior to the ending change, I sincerely hope you enjoy the new ending. Why have I retitled the book? Because it IS a different book now with the different ending. FOR LOVE AND HONOR no longer exists; it’s been changed. It is a different novel and one I have entitled VALIANT CHAOS, because certainly what Avalyn and Brogan go through is, indeed, valiant and it IS chaos. Readers really needed to know that what these two go through pans out for them in the end. Now, it does. I am, however, including the original ending just as a bonus chapter so those of you who are reading it fresh can see what all the fuss was about. Makes for an interesting comparison!

  I sincerely hope you enjoy Avalyn and Brogan’s story. Much love to you all!!

  Kathryn

  Out of Chaos, God made a world,

  And out of high passions, comes a people.

  – Lord Byron, 1788 – 1824, British Poet

  Chapter One

  England

  April, 1469 A.D.

  It was a lovely night to die.

  He stood a moment, inhaling the gentle night air, feeling the caress of the blooming flora. The black waters of the River Thames ran at his feet, the gentle glide of a liquid caress. It was a soothing sound. He wondered if the water would feel soothing as it entered his lungs, choking off his life and stopping his heart. He’d been wondering that for days. Now the time was upon him to find out.

  He’d lived a full life. He had achieved more than he ever thought possible; coming from a small berg in Germania after his father died and his mother had married an English merchant. He never thought that his voluntary admission into King Henry’s army at the young age of fourteen would have led him to the post he currently held. He was foreign-born, conventionally uneducated, yet he found himself guarding the current king and Henry’s bitter rival, Edward. A post reserved for the most noble of knights had found a common soldier to occupy it. It had been an amazing ascent. His father would have been proud.

  He tried not to think of what his father would say to his most recent choice; suicide is a coward’s path. His father had been a Teutonic warrior, bred for battle and hard to the bone. He himself had been more battles that he could count, blood-spattered, well-choreographed encounters between cousins and their retainers battling for the throne of a country that was considered secondary in the known world. Secondary, but passionate. He’d lived through sword-cuts, arrow wounds, and a bout with fever so severe that it left him nearly deaf in one ear. He’d always survived and congratulated himself on his good fortune. Now, what war and God could not accomplish, he himself would achieve. He smiled inwardly at all of the men who would have given their souls to have been provided the chance to kill Brogan d’Aurilliac.

  He shook off feelings of remorse that threatened. He took a step up onto the balustrade of the bridge that crossed over the dark, silent river. He didn’t remove his boots, massive things that were heavy with quality; he wanted to make sure he had enough weight to drag him down. He knew his instinct to swim would take over yet he was determined to resist. He reminded himself that this was the course he had chosen for himself. It was time to end it, and end it he would.

  The momentary regrets faded and a strange sense of peace settled. He was ready. The comfort of the swirling waters beckoned to him, and he glanced to the sky above, taking his final glimpse of the world he knew. There was nothing he would miss. Shortly, he would no longer be a part of it.

  It was his last coherent thought before something hit him from behind and launched him into the murky waters below.

  The horse was heading for the Thames at break-neck speed. Though she’d been riding her entire life, no matter how much she tried, she could not halt the panicked animal. She had been attempting to stable the stupid beast when something spooked it. No matter what it was; she never heard a sound. But in a flash, they were quickly heading for disaster.

  Frantic hooves echoed against the muddied earth and ricocheted off the dwellings that lined the quiet avenue. Thankfully, it was after sup and the streets were void of people. She pulled steadily on the reins, trying not to panic herself, but the more she pulled, the faster the horse raced. She had known this horse since it had foaled and she knew it was not easily startled. Whatever had triggered this had driven the horse into momentarily insanity and she knew it could only end in great suffering, namely hers.

  But the lady was not one to fall easily into fits of terror; she had always possessed a calm, logical mind and she struggled to think clearly. She knew this avenue would shortly intersect with the River Thames. She further knew that she could stop the horse if she could direct it off the bridge and into the river. There would only be a split second for her to accomplish this, however, as the footpaths that led from the street down to the water’s edge occurred just before the rise of the bridge as it sprouted off across the water. In that brief moment, she would have to steer the animal down the footpath and into the water.

  They rounded a corner and headed down the straight road towards the bridge. By this time, she’d stopped struggling with the beast and merely held on so that she would not fall. The closer they drew to the river, the more she calculated her timing. It had to be perfect or the opportunity would be lost. Only in that thought did she feel fear; otherwise, the horse would probably run until fell off the white cliffs of Dover and into the channel.

  It was dark, the moon a mere sliver in the velvety sky. She could hardly see the footpath up ahead. It would make her timing more difficult. Apprehension threatened, but she fought it. If fear took over, all would be lost. She had to react sharply. Beneath her, the steed slipped on the muddy road and they almost went down. She rather hoped they would so that she could take her chances with a falling horse rather than an out-of-control one. But the beast kept its balance and continued on.

  At the right moment, she tried to veer the horse to the left, onto the path, but the animal resisted and pulled to the right. Momentum had her in its fiendish grasp and she flew from the animal, tumbling wildly through the air. Somewhere in the midst, she struck something. It was hard, but not hard enough. It gave way and fell with her.

  A loud splash and fading hoof-falls of a runaway horse were all that remained, fading quickly into night as if none had ever been.

  He had no idea what had hit him. Suddenly, he was in the water and he could feel nebulous weight atop him. His head broke the surface and he turned to see wisps of material lingering on the top of the black water. He swam a couple of strokes towards it, noting that there was also hair floating amidst the fabric. Instinctively, he grabbed the hair and pulled.

  An unconscious woman popped to the surface. Startled, Brogan slipped his arm around her neck, her chin in the crook of his left elbow, and swam for shore. Eventually, he gained his footing in the muck and gathered her into his arms. He sloshed heavily to shore where he lowered himself to his knees. It had all happened so quickly that it took him a moment to regain his wits and take stock of the occurrence.

  The woman had knocked him into the river before he had been ready to jump. It was as if she had been hurled at him in an attempt to knock some sense into his mu
ddled mind. Not strangely, he thought perhaps God was sending him a message and his confidence in his actions wavered as he laid her upon the ground. Pulling the wet hair from her face, he could see that she was alive. With the force of her hit, he was frankly surprised.

  He coughed, clearing his lungs. He tapped her cheek, thinking it might revive her, but she remained still. He ran his hands over her arms and felt both legs through her wet, heavy garment; there were no broken bones that he could detect. Somewhere, a cold breeze had roused and it swirled around them both, chilling their wet flesh. Brogan couldn’t just leave her, lying unconscious and vulnerable on the banks of the Thames. After a moment’s indecision, he gathered her into his arms and set off in the direction of his quarters.

  The moon gave little light to illuminate his path as he made for the Tower of London. The avenues leading to the fortress were void of life, for which he was grateful; they made a strange, dripping pair. He entered the grounds through the new main gate between the Lanthorn and the Salt Towers, across the moat and under the massive portcullis. Wet, and carrying a limp female, he inevitably drew stares from the soldiers on night watch. Yet no one dared to ask the man what was amiss. Anyone foolish enough to question d’Aurilliac would be taking his life in his hands. Even the knights, no matter how seasoned or green, had a healthy respect for him. The man’s name was synonymous with fear.

  The White Tower was directly in front of him with several outbuildings against the enormous outer-wall built by Edward III. These were the quarters of the knights, senior soldiers, and visiting military officers. Brogan headed for the middle building of the three long, wooden structures. Inside on the second floor were his lodgings.

  Under normal circumstances, he would not have dreamed of bringing a woman into these quarters. They smelt of men and rot. The only women ever seen within the old stone walls were whores. In fact, those women had their own room at the end of the first floor. As he passed the room and headed up the stairs, he almost stopped to ask one of them to lend a hand. But he kept silent. He did not want their unclean hands touching the woman in his arms and he did not want to be bothered with their foolishness.