A Knight With Grace: Book 1 of the Assassin Knights Series (12 page)

“William?” Emily laughed but then tried to stifle it. “There has been no one else. In all the years I have known him. No woman has caught his eye.” She moved up to Grace and knelt before her, taking her hands into her own. “Only you.”

“Me?” Grace echoed, shocked. She shook her head. “You are mistaken.”

“You don’t see it?” Emily asked. “The way he looks at you? It is as though the sun rises and sets with you.”

Grace couldn’t believe it. She stared at her dumbfounded. Had she missed it? Or was Emily seeing something that wasn’t there? “It can’t be true.” Because somewhere inside her she wanted it to be true. And no man could ever find happiness with her. Not Curtis. Not her father. Not --

“It is. And you. How do you feel about him?”

Troubled by her questions, Grace stared into Emily’s eyes. She didn’t know how to answer. She’d never felt this way about anyone. Definitely not Curtis. He was more like a brother to her. She and Curtis were only friends. This was different. Every time she looked at William, or thought about his strong physique, his dazzling eyes, she felt a warmth blossom in her heart. A tenderness she had never felt for anyone. She was afraid to voice it. Afraid she would be wrong. Afraid he would reject her.

Emily patted her hand. “You’ll have time, dearest.” She rose and circled her, looking her over. “Perfect.”

Grace stood and thanked Anna. “Shall we get William?”

“William doesn’t dine in the Great Hall,” Emily said.

“Why?” Grace wondered.

Emily frowned and sadness entered her eyes. “People can be cruel.”

Grace nodded softly. Just like she was when she first met William. The immediate hatred and judgment she cast on him had come without thinking, without any effort to bring it forth. It was just there inside of her. She waited until Anna left the room before asking Emily, “Did he really do it? Did he really kill the archbishop?”

Emily cupped her cheek. “That is something you will have to ask him.” She slowly dropped her hand in thought. “Perhaps he would dine with us if you asked him.”

Grace stepped back, shaking her head vehemently. “I don’t know what I would do if someone was cruel to him.”

Emily clasped her hands tightly. “Ask him.”

Emily had promised to meet her at the evening meal. She had said she needed to prepare a few things, but Grace had a suspicion Emily only wanted to give Grace time alone with William. It was something Grace would not argue with her about. She enjoyed the moments she and William spent alone together. She moved into the corridor and walked across the hallway to William’s door. She lifted her hand to knock when she heard voices from inside.

“Why? Why did ya kill him? Was he a bad man?” It was a young boy’s voice.

“The king ordered it,” William answered.

There was silence for a long moment. Then the boy said, “Me Mum says yer going ta burn in Hell.”

“I am,” William said softly, confidently.

His statement twisted Grace’s heart.

“But ya did yer penance. Perhaps the Pope will forgive ya.”

“There is no forgiveness for me. Let this be a lesson for you. God comes before king. In all things.”

“Then how come ya killed the archbishop? Didn’t ya know --?”

“I was greedy. I sought to gain the king’s favor.”

“Ya still got your lands! So the king must not be mad at ya!”

“A lot of good it will do me in Hell.”

“Pray ta God. That’s what I do when I did something bad. He always forgives me. He’ll forgive ya too!”

“Thank you, Luke. I will try that. Maybe someday I will be forgiven.”

Grace knocked softly on the door, hating to disturb the conversation. William opened it. Grace was unprepared for the sight that greeted her. He had cleaned up. He wore black boots and leggings that fit his muscular legs tightly. His white tunic was open at the neck, giving a glimpse of his strong chest. He wore his sword belted around his waist. His dark hair hung in waves to his shoulders. His blue eyes fixed on her with appreciation.

Realizing her mouth was open, she closed it and swallowed in a dry throat, all words lost. She couldn’t remember what she was going to say. Her heart did a strange little flip in her chest.

He bowed slightly. “Lady Grace.” His hand rested lightly on a boy’s shoulder beside him.

Instinctively, Grace curtsied. “Sir William.” Her knees almost weakened enough where she couldn’t stand, but she managed to rise.

“Yer right,” the boy said in awe. “She is beautiful.”

Grace glanced at the boy, who was maybe seven summers in age, at the dark hair hanging in his eyes, and then back at William. Shock flooded through her. Had he said she was beautiful?

William took her hand and looked at the boy. “May I present the Lady Grace. This is Luke.”

“Very nice to meet you, Luke.”

Luke nodded, brushing his brown hair from his eyes. He looked back at William. “Remember, you promised.”

William grinned and nodded agreement. “I remember. Go on, now. Make sure my dinner is ready.”

Luke raced off down the hallway.

“I’m intrigued. What did you promise him?”

“That he could be my squire.”

“Squire? He needs to be a page first!”

“Aye.”

Grace looked at William. “You won’t let him be your squire.”

“I have no need of a squire.” He opened the door to allow her entrance to his room. “Shouldn’t you be in the Great Hall dining with Emily?”

“I’ve come to ask you to join us.”

William’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Didn’t she tell--” His words trailed off and he shook his head. Then he scowled. “It would be better if you ate with me in my room.”

Grace folded her hands before her and looked down thoughtfully for a long moment. When she looked up at him, warmth flooded through her cheeks. “Emily would be very disappointed.”

“I do not dine in the Great Hall. You are most welcome to eat here with me.”

“Why don’t you eat in the Great Hall?” Grace wondered. “Is it because people can be cruel?”

William hesitated. “There are worse fates than being ridiculed.” He looked into the room and then back at her. “Emily put you up to this, didn’t she?”

“She suggested it.”

William shook his head. “Grace... People... Knights don’t always...” He took a deep breath. And then nodded reluctantly. “For you, m’lady.”

William held Grace’s hand as they entered the Great Hall for the evening meal. The room was not as big as the Great Hall in Willoughby Castle, but it still rose two stories above his head with beams criss-crossing high above. The clang of mugs and murmured talking filled the room. The tables lining the expanse were filled. William despised crowds. And this was no exception. He knew how they saw him, as a murderer, cursed, excommunicated. He didn’t blame them. If it were just him, he wouldn’t care. But Grace would see it now, see how flawed and horrible a man he was. She had asked him to accompany her. Was this what she wanted? Did she want to see him ridiculed? He glanced at her. She was stunning with her hair up, her neck flawless, her smooth skin magnificent. Her lips... How could he resist anything she requested?

The Great Hall was crowded, more so than usual, William guessed. They all wanted to see the man who killed Archbishop Becket. He was used to the stares. He was used to the hisses. He was used to the name calling. He could ignore them all. But he didn’t want Grace subjected to them. He had informed steward Thomas as much, but he knew there was little the man could do about it.

He looked at Grace. She walked beside him up the main aisle, unaware of what the people around them were thinking. And maybe it was because of her they made it to the front table without incident. William took a seat beside Grace at the head table. He was glad she was there. She brought an unexpected light to his darkness, a joy to his worthless life. He could simply look at her all day. Her beauty outshone the bleakness. He was not worthy of her.

Emily sat at William’s side, barely containing her delight. She leaned toward them. “I’m glad Lady Grace convinced you to come to the evening meal.”

William grimaced. This was just the beginning of Emily’s interference. William ignored her to cast his gaze over the crowd, assessing any threats. Many met his stare with open hostility. As dinner progressed, his attention became more and more focused on Grace. She talked and laughed with the man beside her, a young knight who reminded him of Curtis, charming him with her beauty. William was entranced by the way her lips moved, forming words. He remembered their softness beneath his, their pliancy, their gentle stroke. When the young man laughed and lay his hand over Grace’s hand, rage ignited inside of William. He leaned toward them. “The lady is betrothed. You’d best remember that.”

The young knight’s eyes widened and he quickly removed his hand. Then he excused himself and left the room.

William’s gaze followed him the entire way. Anger brewed inside of him, scorching reason, singeing the edges of his self-control.

“He was only telling me a story of when you were young,” Grace said softly.

“He never knew me. It was all made up. You should learn to tell a lie from the truth.” His words were harsh, and after he uttered them, he regretted them. He couldn’t explain it. The anger and rage he thought he mastered had surfaced instantly. And over something that should not have bothered him. A simple touch. A possessive touch. Fury clawed up from that black cavern inside of him.

“Or maybe it was a story he heard and you are being irrational,” Grace answered, her brows furrowing. She turned away from him and took a sip of her ale.

Yes. He was being irrational. That was it. Still, it took all of his will to banish the vehemence.

A knight at the far end of the table nearest them with a short beard suddenly rose violently, shoving his chair back with enough force that it crashed to the floor. “I shall not dine with a murderer.” He spat on the floor.

William straightened at the insult. That was what he was used to and why he dined in his room, alone. How could he hold the knight to blame when what he proclaimed was the truth? It mattered not what the knight said, what any knight said. Only that he kept Grace safe.

Sporadic knights followed the short bearded knight’s lead, heading down the aisle of the Great Hall.

Grace glanced at William.

He felt her eyes on him, but could not look at her for the embarrassment he felt. They were leaving because of him. Because of what he had done. Now she knew. He couldn’t protect her from the scorn of others.

Suddenly, she stood and called out, “Halt you knights! What sort of impertinence is this? You will not dine at Sir William’s table and yet you will work in his lands?”

“We work for his brother, Lord Ralph,” one of the knights answered.

“And Sir William holds these lands for his brother. So, you answer to him as your lord.”

“He murdered Archbishop Becket!” the knight with the short beard shouted. “I answer to no man who kills a man of the cloth!”

“Then you’d best find other work.” A scattering of unease trickled through the hall like a gently swaying field of wheat. “Sir William is lord of these lands until his brother returns. Any man who doubts that or will not eat at his table has no place on his lands. Make your choice.”

The knights glanced at one another; the whispering and low speaking grew louder in the hall.

William couldn’t take his eyes from Grace. She was magnificent. Strong, commanding. It was what he should have done instead of hiding behind his past actions. Instead of cowering. He was a knight! But he had no wish for confrontation or to cross swords with another knight. So, he took the biting lash of their tongues in silence. Emily placed a hand on his arm. When he glanced at her, he saw surprise in her open mouth and raised eyebrows. She looked at William and a grin of enjoyment slowly stretched her lips and admiration shone in her eyes.

Finally, two of the knights returned to their seats. The short bearded knight left the room.

Grace lifted her chin and took her seat again.

William was stunned and humbled. She had defended him! He, a man who was not worthy of defending. She had done what he could not. She had faced the hypocritical knights and come out golden. He placed his hand over hers. “Thank you, Lady Grace.”