A Knight With Grace: Book 1 of the Assassin Knights Series (16 page)

William turned Hellfire toward the forest.

Grace wasn’t sure who was on the road, but she knew William was taking no chances. He dismounted behind some trees and helped Grace from the horse. Then, he quickly pulled out his sword. Grace’s heart raced, pounding like the horse’s hoofbeats stomping toward them.

“Stay hidden,” he ordered her.

They watched the road through the branches and leaves of the trees. For a long moment no one appeared, even as the thunderous hoofbeats grew louder like an approaching storm. It was such an overwhelming sound. So loud. Grace reached out and clasped William’s arm.

Then the army was there. And it was an army, an army of armored men on horseback racing by. It took a moment, but Grace spotted the heraldry the men wore on their tunics. It was a familiar symbol, a blue crossed pattern overlain with a black knight. She straightened. “My father,” she said softly.

William lunged out, moving toward the road.

Grace reached for him, to stop him, to encourage him, she didn’t know. Her fingers closed around air as he moved out of her reach and waved his arms, shouting to the men to stop.

Suddenly, her father’s angry image rose before her, his scowling brow, his thin lips turned down in a pout. Would he forgive her? She had every intention of marrying William now. Could she convince her father it was all a misunderstanding? It didn’t matter. There would be no further running for her. Determination filled her. She and William would face her father together. That thought gave her courage and conviction.

Men from the army gathered around William. He spoke to them and they turned to look at her.

Trepidation welled up inside of her under the barrage of their glares. Then she looked at William. He was not looking at her; he was speaking to a man on horseback. Without his calming presence near, without his courage, fear churned in her stomach. Some of the guards dismounted and headed her way. Most of their faces were familiar and she should have felt comfort, but the thought of her angry father would not be banished from her mind. She was afraid of her father, she realized. Very afraid.

The guards asked her questions as they led her to the road, but she didn’t hear them; she was looking at William. He stood a head over the rest of the men and was easy to find. He turned to look at her. Their eyes locked. There was something sad in his blue eyes. It wasn’t comforting, nor strong.

He turned away then, heading into the forest.

Panic twisted her stomach. “No,” she whispered more to herself than the guards. She attempted to follow William into the forest, but her father’s men moved to block her path, attempting to herd her toward a horse. One man put his hands on his waist to help her mount, but she twisted and lurched away from him. “William!”

“M’lady,” the guard said softly. He tried to take hold of her hand and prevent her from going into the forest.

She yanked her hand away from the man with such force she was propelled backward and fell onto her bottom. Booted feet trapped her like bars of a cage. She heard words, but in her anxiety didn’t understand. A hand reached out for her. She followed it up.

William stood before her, his hand outstretched.

She reached for him, clasping his hand. He helped her to her feet. “She will ride with me,” he announced and guided her into the forest toward Hellfire. “Courage, Grace,” he whispered to her. “These are your men. They only mean to protect you.”

They mean to take me away from you, she thought, but didn’t voice her concern.

The courtyard at Willoughby Castle was empty and dark as the soldiers followed William and Grace in. It was late and Grace was certain many villagers were abed. For the first time since she had runaway with Curtis, she had hope for the future. She couldn’t wait to see her father and tell him of her love for William. She was certain he would be happy she had agreed to follow his order and marry William. And yet a nagging uncertainty, an unsettling anxiety, still gnawed at her.

William dismounted and helped her off of Hellfire. She smiled at him and he returned her happiness by lifting her hand to his lips. Grace kept his hand in hers and turned to the doorway. She stopped short. Her father stood silhouetted in the open door of the keep outlined by the dancing torchlight from the hallway. A demon. The thought erupted in Grace’s mind and she took a step back, coming up against William’s body.

William lay a comforting hand on her shoulder and it gave Grace courage. She was relieved he was with her. She took the first step toward her father. Her happiness faded beneath the rage she saw in his tight jaw and snarled lips.

William stopped her, catching her arm. He bowed slightly to her father. “She is safe, m’lord.”

Her father’s eyes did not move from her, locking on her like twin beacons of hate. Like a falcon eyeing its prey.

“Father --” she began.

“You defied me, girl,” he ground out. “I would speak to you alone.” He whirled and headed into the keep.

Grace glanced back at William. Dread slithered through her, snaking its way around her body, and for one beat of her heart, she couldn’t move. William nodded reassurance to her. She didn’t know what else to do. She followed her father inside the keep. Her footsteps echoed softly in the stone hall. Despite being inside the warm castle, a chill raced through her. How foolish she was for thinking her father would be happy to see her. Happy at all. She should have known he would be furious at her disobedience. He didn’t know she and William had fallen in love. Perhaps when she told him... But something told her not to tell him.

She turned the corner in time to see him enter the farthest room. The judgment room. She followed after him, hurrying so as not to make him even angrier. The moment she entered the room he lashed out, striking her across the cheek with enough force to send her to the stone floor. Stunned, she stared up at his fury. His lips had curled back from his teeth, his eyes were wide. It transformed his entire face into that of an evil, hateful man.

“You willful whore,” he snarled. “You leave with one man and come back with another. Did you bed them both? Like your mother?”

“Father,” she whispered, shaking her head. Tears rose in her eyes. “I didn’t --”

“Lies!” he shouted. “You disobeyed my order!”

She shook her head. “I will marry him! That’s why I returned. To follow your order. Father, please.” She extended her hand. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Wrong?” The question came out as a roar.

“I love you.”

“Love,” he scoffed. He turned away from her, moving to the other side of the room, near the hearth. The light of the dying fire cast him in a red glow. He suddenly began coughing. It started with a small gasp and sputter, but quickly turned into a fit of thick rumbles.

She sat up, confused at her father’s rage, afraid he would strike her again. Yet, he was her father, and no matter what, she knew she had to help him. When his coughing stopped, she whispered, “I will do as you command, Father.”

“Do as I command?” he repeated with a small, strangled laugh, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his black jupon.

“I don’t understand, Father. Isn’t that what you want? My marriage to William?”

“I don’t care who you marry, as long as you are miserable. I only consented to the marriage because I thought you could never love a man like him, a cursed man. A monster. A killer.”

She stood to her feet, her knees trembling. He had wanted her to marry William so she was unhappy. “Why? What have I done to displease you?”

“Displease me?” He stepped from the shadows, his face twisted and loveless. “You were born!”

“But... We were happy when Mother was alive.”

“Because I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were not mine.”

She stepped back, reeling. No words escaped her open lips.

“Your mother told me when she was sick. She told me she loved another. She told me she was unfaithful. She told me she had fucked another man!” He swiped at a small chair that sat beside the large judgment chair, launching it across the room. It smashed into the wall, splintering. “She told me all of it to cleanse her soul, she said.” He waved his hand. “Or some such rubbage. I was furious.” He looked down at his hands and clenched them into fists. “So furious. I killed the little slut. I killed my wife. I strangled her.”

Stunned, horrified, Grace couldn’t move. He had killed her mother! The image of her mother laying half off and half on the bed came to her mind. She had been sick and Grace had believed she had simply passed. She hadn’t seen the marks around her neck. Her fingers moved to cover her mouth. He had killed her!

“But I will have the last say. I will make sure nothing of her loins, no bastard born slut, will be happy. That was why I arranged your marriage to that cursed degraded soul. You would be as cursed as him. Destined for hell.“ He shook his head. ”But he didn’t come. And I was running out of time.”

Grace stepped toward the door. He was mad. He was out of his mind. She had to get out of that room, away from him. Her stomach tightened and churned in fear. He had killed her mother.

“I had to act quickly. So very quickly.” He ran his hand over the wooden arm of the judgment chair, caressing it. But his gaze never left her. “Plotting and scheming. You think I am a fool. Your mother did. Is that what you think?”

“Father --” she whispered, weakly.

“I’m not your father!” he howled.

She could only stare in horror as he continued his rant.

“I sought out a knight who wanted to better his position. A knight more concerned with coin. A young knight. A knight who didn’t care about chivalry. Your friend. Together, we hatched a plan. He would take you away. Far away. Saying he would save you. I even gave him more coin to take you away.”

Pain twisted Grace’s chest at his story. “Curtis,” she said softly.

“Yes. Yes. But it wasn’t enough for me. I couldn’t stand the thought of you somewhere enjoying the sunshine and laughing. Maybe finding a fat little baker boy to settle down with.” He ground his teeth.

Grace felt her world spinning. A plot. It was all a plot. Curtis was her friend! Someone she trusted. But it had been a plan hatched with her father. She glanced at the door as she slowly inched her way toward it; she was almost there. She knew she had to escape. She had to get to William. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes, it’s difficult for you to follow.” His voice was thick with mockery. “Once I realized my mistake in letting you escape with a friend, I knew what I had to do. I could not stand the thought of you walking the same path I might walk. Of breathing the same air I would breathe. There really was only one choice. I was a fool not to do it earlier.”

Tears rose in her eyes. How could he hate her so much?

Her father started laughing, but the coughing returned, doubling him over with spasms. He had to sit in the judgment chair to calm his wracking sputters. He announced through the coughs with glee, “I hired someone to kill you.”

CHAPTER 18

S
tunned and horrified, Grace couldn’t move
. Emily had died because of her father! It hadn’t been Curtis. Curtis had been loyal to her.

Her father slumped over in the chair, and for a moment, Grace thought he might be dead. She glanced at the door, every instinct telling her to flee. He tried to kill you! He killed your mother!

“I would have done it myself,” he whispered, “but the only joy in my life is seeing you hurt. It is the only way to get back at your mother. You were her only love. She protected you. She gave you everything you wanted. Now. It is my turn.” He rose out of the chair like a demon, like Death.

Grace lunged for the door. She wrapped her hand around the handle.

His hand knotted in her hair. “Where are you going? I didn’t give you leave to exit.” He yanked her back into the room.

She rolled across the floor, coming to a halt before the chair.

Her father opened the door. “I shall be back to tend you later.”

Grace pushed herself up on her arms. “Where are you going?”

“You and Sir William looked far too comfortable together. I must tend to him first. Be patient.”

“No,” the sound escaped her throat and she pushed herself up from the floor and raced across the room. Her father closed the door before she could reach it. She grabbed the handle desperately, but she was too late. The lock slid into place with a resounding click.