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“More than all right.”

  “I cannot believe this is our new home.” The lad glanced about the bailey, his face glowing with excitement. “I never once imagined a boy like me would live in a castle.”

  Pride welled inside Garrett again. He’d never once imagined he’d be a father and betrothed to Addy, but he was. Together, they’d accomplish great things.

  “Can I go explore?” Corwin pleaded.

  “You may.” As the lad hurried off, Garrett said, “Shall we go meet our subjects, milady?”

  She nodded, and he slid his hand into hers.

  For the first time in years, the awful restlessness didn’t plague him.

  For the first time in years, he felt truly happy.

  And, at last, complete.

  About Catherine Kean

  Catherine Kean is an award-winning, Kindle Unlimited All-Star author of medieval romances. Her love of history began with visits to England during summer vacations, when her British father took her to crumbling medieval castles, dusty museums filled with fascinating artifacts, and historic churches. Her love of the awe-inspiring past stuck with her as she completed a B.A. (Double Major, First Class) in English and History. She completed a year-long Post Graduate course with Sotheby’s auctioneers in London, England, and worked for several years in Canada as an antiques and fine art appraiser.

  After she moved to Florida, she started writing novels, her lifelong dream. She wrote her first medieval romance, A Knight’s Vengeance, while her baby daughter was napping. Catherine’s books were originally published in paperback and several were released in Czech, German, and Thai foreign editions. She has won numerous awards for her stories, including the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence. Her novels also finaled in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards, the National Readers’ Choice Awards, and the International Digital Awards.

  When not working on her next book, Catherine enjoys cooking, baking, browsing antique shops, shopping with her daughter, and gardening. She lives in Central Florida with two spoiled rescue cats.

  Connect with Catherine

  Website

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  Books by Catherine Kean

  A Knight and His Rose (Novella)

  A Knight to Remember (Novella)

  A Knight’s Desire

  A Legendary Love (Novella)

  Bound by His Kiss (Novella)

  Dance of Desire

  Her Gallant Knight (Novella)

  My Lady’s Treasure

  One Knight in the Forest (Novella)

  One Knight Under the Mistletoe (Novella)

  One Knight’s Kiss (Novella)

  That Knight by the Sea (Novella)

  Knight’s Series Novels

  A Knight’s Vengeance (Knight’s Series Book 1)

  A Knight’s Reward (Knight’s Series Book 2)

  A Knight’s Temptation (Knight’s Series Book 3)

  A Knight’s Persuasion (Knight’s Series Book 4)

  A Knight’s Seduction (Knight’s Series Book 5)

  A Knight’s Redemption (Knight’s Series Book 6)

  Boxed Sets

  The Knight’s Series: Books 1-5

  FAITHFUL HEART

  By

  ANNA MARKLAND

  COVER ART BY STEVEN NOVAK

  This story is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

  All fictional characters in this story have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

  © Copyright 2016 Anna Markland All Rights Reserved

  “Sail away from the safe harbor.

  Catch the trade winds in your sails.

  Explore. Dream. Discover.”

  ~Mark Twain

  For the men, women and children

  who cannot find peace though the war may be over.

  MORE ANNA MARKLAND

  The Montbryce Legacy~Anniversary Edition (2018-2019)

  I Conquest—Ram & Mabelle, Rhodri & Rhonwen

  II Defiance—Hugh & Devona, Antoine & Sybilla

  III Redemption—Caedmon & Agneta

  IV Vengeance—Ronan & Rhoni

  V Birthright— Adam & Rosamunda, Denis & Paulina

  VI Star-Crossed— Robert & Dorianne, Baudoin & Carys

  VII Allegiance—Rhys & Annalise

  VIII Crescendo—Izzy & Farah

  IX Infidelity—Gallien & Peridotte

  X Jeopardy—Alexandre & Elayne

  XI Forbidden—Rodrick & Swan, Bronson & Grace

  The Montbryce Legacy~First Edition (2011-2014)

  Conquering Passion—Ram & Mabelle, Rhodri & Rhonwen (audiobook available)

  If Love Dares Enough—Hugh & Devona, Antoine & Sybilla

  Defiant Passion-Rhodri & Rhonwen

  A Man of Value—Caedmon & Agneta

  Dark Irish Knight—Ronan & Rhoni

  Haunted Knights—Adam & Rosamunda, Denis & Paulina

  Passion in the Blood—Robert & Dorianne, Baudoin & Carys

  Dark and Bright—Rhys & Annalise

  The Winds of the Heavens—Rhun & Glain, Rhydderch & Isolda

  Dance of Love—Izzy & Farah

  Carried Away—Blythe & Dieter

  Sweet Taste of Love—Aidan & Nolana

  Wild Viking Princess—Ragna & Reider

  Hearts and Crowns—Gallien & Peridotte

  Fatal Truths—Alex & Elayne

  Sinful Passions—Bronson & Grace; Rodrick & Swan

  Series featuring the stories of the Viking ancestors of my Norman families

  The Rover Bold—Bryk & Cathryn

  The Rover Defiant—Torstein & Sonja

  The Rover Betrayed—Magnus & Judith

  Caledonia Chronicles (Scotland)

  Book I Pride of the Clan—Rheade & Margaret

  Book II Highland Tides—Braden & Charlotte

  Book III Highland Dawn—Keith & Aurora

  Book IV Roses Among the Heather—Blair &Susanna, Craig & Timothea

  The Von Wolfenberg Dynasty (medieval Europe)

  Book 1 Loyal Heart—Sophia & Brandt

  Book 2 Courageous Hearts—Luther & Francesca

  Book 3 Faithful Heart—Kon & Zara

  MYTH & MYSTERY

  The Taking of Ireland—Sibràn & Aislinn

  THE HOUSE OF PENDRAY

  Highland Betrayal—Morgan & Hannah (audiobook available)

  Kingslayer’s Daughter—Munro & Sarah

  Highland Jewel—Garnet & Jewel

  Highland Rising—Gray & Faith

  CLASH OF THE TARTANS

  Kilty Secrets—Ewan & Shona

  Kilted at the Altar—Darroch & Isabel

  Kilty Pleasures—Broderick & Kyla

  Novellas

  Maknab’s Revenge—Ingram & Ruby

  Passion’s Fire—Matthew & Brigandine

  Banished—Sigmar & Audra

  Hungry Like De Wolfe—Blaise & Anne

  Unkissable Knight—Dervenn & Victorine

  The Marauder—Santiago & Valentina

  Knightly Dreams—Peter & Susie

  THE VON WOLFENBERG DYNASTY

  SKIMMING STONES

  Island of Chersos, Dalmatia, 1139 AD

  Konrad von Wolfenberg wouldn’t have revealed anything of his difficult past to his swarthy interrogator if he’d foreseen Drosik’s sarcastic disbelief. When would he learn to keep his mouth shut?

  The diminutive captain whose crew he sought to join made no effort to conceal his amusement. “
You were destined to be a priest, and now you want to be a pirate,” he crowed for the fifth time.

  Kon supposed he couldn’t blame Drosik. He didn’t fully understand himself how his path in life had changed drastically.

  Hoping to provide a distraction, he braced his booted feet in the sand, bent his knees, leaned back and skimmed a pebble across the waters of the Adriatic—still and calm for once. “It’s a long story.”

  Drosik jumped down from his perch atop a boulder and picked up a rock. He closed one eye and stuck out his tongue, then tried and failed to match the six splashes. Kon wasn’t surprised. It was obvious from the way the Dalmatian had chosen the pebble at random he hadn’t been perfecting the skill since the age of four.

  The memory transported Kon back to happier times—their patient father teaching him and Lute and Johann, and even Sophia, how to choose the best stones to skim across the waters of the Elbe. To the annoyance of her brothers, Sophia had proven to be the most adept.

  It seemed long ago and far away, a lifetime. Each of his siblings was happily married and well settled. Johann might by now have inherited the prestigious title of Count von Wolfenberg. Their heartbroken father wasn’t expected to survive his beloved wife by long.

  Kon had been driven to leave the home he loved shortly after his mother’s death, though he had to admit he wasn’t certain what the driving force was. Perhaps he’d believed that if he left Saxony he’d rediscover the ability to feel grief, or any emotion. Or mayhap the real Konrad still lay buried beneath the deadly rockfall in the Pale Mountains during the imperial army’s long retreat from Italy.

  “We Narentines have been celebrated pirates for centuries,” Drosik declared, brushing off the rumpled sleeves of the brightest red shirt Kon had ever seen, apparently undismayed at his lack of skimming prowess.

  “Really,” Kon replied, his thoughts still in Saxony. “I assumed a man who lived on the sea would be an expert skimmer.”

  Drosik shrugged, seemingly taking no offence at the jest. “I was too busy learning to be a sailor.” He thrust out his chest. “I am named for Drosaico, a great Narentine pirate captain who signed a peace treaty with the cursed Venetians more than a hundred years ago.”

  Kon scoffed. “Peace treaty! Evidently it didn’t last.”

  His companion scowled. “What kind of world would it be if Dalmatians didn’t raid Venetian ships? Venezia is a wealthy trading republic because of where she sits.” He gestured to the trees clinging to the cliffs. “These islands provide the perfect lair from which our intrepid ships can launch raids on theirs. Wealth must be shared.”

  Having been ridiculed for his former vocation, it would have been wiser for Kon not to disclose that the acquisition of wealth wasn’t the reason he had chosen piracy, but his tongue got the better of him. “It’s the slavery,” he muttered as Drosik was in mid-throw.

  The pebble hit the water with a plop and sank. “What?”

  Kon clenched his jaw. “I can’t abide the notion of men, women and children being abducted from their homeland and deprived of freedom.”

  Drosik sneered. “You’re a lunatic.”

  Kon stared out at the rippling waves, resolved not to utter a word of his dreadful experience at the slave market in Bari during the imperial occupation. His impulsive attempt to free a kidnapped woman had resulted in a severe beating at the hands of turbaned slavers and disciplinary action by his commanding officer. “Mayhap you’re right.”

  Drosik clamped a bony hand on his shoulder. “On the morrow we sail to Venezia to scout out our next prize. We’ll need extra crew. You seem like an honest man to me, if a little mad. Welcome aboard.”

  Kon shook his head at the irony. He’d been judged an honest man by a pirate, and mayhap the eccentric fellow was right about the madness too. He sent another stone bounding across the water, then followed his new captain to the cog lying at anchor in the shelter of the hidden bay.

  MISTRESS OF THE FLEET

  Polani Apartments, Venezia

  “My pompous uncle Pietro is Doge of Venezia, yet I was not selected to sit on his council of sapientes,” Zara Polani hissed, pacing the elaborately tiled floor of her family’s private apartments adjacent to the Doge’s chapel, the Basilica di San Marco. She crossed her arms tightly. “I cannot be an advisor, despite the fact I own a fleet of the most successful trading ships in the republic.”

  Smiling too sweetly, Ottavia looked up from her sewing. “However, dear sister, in the eyes of Venetian law, Bruno owns the fleet.”

  It was a lamentable truth. Their father had been legally obliged to bequeath his fortune to his eldest son, though her beloved brother was an imbecile. It didn’t make her younger sister’s retort any easier to bear. She ought to be immune to the pointed reminder by now. “But everyone is aware Bruno is a twenty-five-year-old child and I am the one in charge. They insult me because I am a mere woman. Who better to advise the Doge on the constant threat from neighboring city-states anxious to sink their teeth into our wealth? Genoa, Pisa, they are no better than the Dalmatian pirates.”

  Seated in a well-upholstered chair by the cold hearth, Ottavia paused in her needlework. “Ugh! Pirates.”

  Zara rolled her eyes. Ottavia had inherited their mother’s passive and sometimes sarcastic nature, whereas she was her shrewd father’s daughter in every way. Given his son’s mental state, he’d passed on to Zara his intimate knowledge of the trading routes that had made their family wealthy. She’d sailed with him as far as Byzantium and relished every minute—the storms, the tides, the waves, the sheer beauty and power of the sea. Ottavia had never set foot on a ship, but she enjoyed the fruits of the fleet’s success, the coin, the exotic spices and perfumes, and of course the silk fashions.

  Zara preferred male attire for her daily inspections of their ships docked in Venezia’s lagoon. She lived by her father’s mantra—an absentee mercante wasn’t likely to prosper. Experience had taught her that seafaring men paid no heed to orders issued by a woman in a frock.

  Confronting her uncle regarding the insult would be a waste of time since he wasn’t happy having an advisory council of wisemen forced on him in the first place. He’d also made no secret of his resentment when it became evident his older brother hadn’t bequeathed the Polani fleet to him.

  Determined not to allow the trembling fury to control her, she sat down, toed off her satin slippers and pulled on her boots. “How do I look?” she asked, getting to her feet.

  Ottavia didn’t approve of the Tuscan wool leggings, knee high boots and tight fitting tunic carefully tailored to minimize her inconvenient breasts. Her sister wrinkled her pert nose. “Like a pirate.”

  Pleased with the response, Zara braced her hands on her hips. She would tend to what was important and let the powerful men of Venezia flounder in their own incompetence. “I’m off to the docks,” she declared, though her first stop would be the family chapel in the basilica. The Polani fleet couldn’t have prospered over the years without the help of the Almighty and she sought divine protection at every opportunity.

  She exited the opulent apartment and set off with her waiting armed escort for the basilica and thence to the lagoon where her ships lay at anchor. She’d put reliable men in charge of loading the salt and woollen goods her captains would trade in the east for silk and spices. However, it never hurt to keep a close eye on matters, especially when they were engaged in the distasteful business of transporting slaves for the Egyptian Fatimids who sold them in the market at Bari.

  Rumor and suspicion were always rife among sailors, and the docks were a good place to glean intelligence concerning possible threats from sea raiders. She made jests about piracy, but it was the biggest threat to her future.

  THE DOCKS

  The brisk wind filled the square sail of Drosik’s cog for most of the two-day voyage to Venezia, for which Kon was grateful. The brief periods when rowing was necessary tested his mettle, though he considered he was fit and strong. He developed a new appreciation
for the endurance of his Viking ancestors.

  By the time they rowed the Ragusa into Venezia’s humid lagoon, every member of the crew had stripped off his shirt. Kon twitched his nose as sweat obscured his vision. Muscles he’d apparently never used before groaned.

  He had a notion to give thanks to the Almighty that he’d been spared the agony of seasickness, but then remembered he no longer believed in God.

  The extensive Venetian docks were abuzz with feverish activity. He had never seen hundreds of vessels anchored in one place, never heard so many different tongues spoken at once. Certain from early childhood of his vocation to the religious life, he’d always been keenly interested in the study of languages. He recognised Greek, Italian, Polish and his native German. Long lines of grimy, sweating men carried bales of cloth, barrels, rope, sacks of salt, weapons, and all manner of goods onto the waiting ships. It reminded him of anthills he and his brothers used to poke sticks at for the fun of watching the industrious insects scurry here and there.

  His gut tightened when he caught sight of several turbaned Fatimids, their faces hidden. It confirmed his belief slaves were being loaded somewhere amid the hubbub. Bitter memories surged, and he feared for the captives.

  Assured the Ragusa was securely moored, Drosik gathered his crew in the center of the hull, urging them to hunker close together. “We are here to gather information,” he warned, “not to draw attention.”

  Kon deemed the caution amusing. Nothing drew the eye like Drosik’s shirt.

  “Wander around, pick out the ships loading the best cargoes and find out without raising suspicion when they expect to sail. I will make a pretence of seeking a cargo of our own. Wolf, you come with me.”