A Knight With Grace: Book 1 of the Assassin Knights Series (2 page)

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “And she didn’t offer you protection from the rain?”

“She had nothing. She offered me shelter when it started.”

“I should have her whipped for not being better prepared.”

Panic churned in Grace’s stomach. She knew she had to distract him, draw his attention away from Minerva. “You wanted to see me.”

“It is time for you to marry,” he announced, a statement of fact.

Grace had dreaded this moment. She knew it was coming, but not this close to her mother’s death. She folded her hands before her, not wishing to displease him.

Her father turned his back to her and faced the fire. “You will marry Sir William de Tracy.”

It took a moment to sink in. William de Tracy. Her heart heaved when she realized who he was, why the name was so familiar to her. “No!” The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

He whirled, fury tightening his jaw. “What did you say?”

“Father! He is a murderer. He’s cursed. He’s an abomination! You can’t marry me to him!”

“I can and will.” His fists clenched at his sides. “Do you dare contradict my order?”

“Think of my children! Think of your grandchildren! You don’t want your bloodline cursed with him as their father!”

“Do not question my judgment, girl. You will do as I say!”

She rebelled in her disbelief. Why would her father betroth her to Sir William de Tracy? The man who had killed Archbishop Thomas Becket! The knight who was damned, excommunicated by the Pope. He was sentencing her to Hell! She shook her head. “Father, you can’t possibly --”

“I can and I am. You will do as you are told, girl.”

“Why, Father?” she pleaded.

He stepped forward aggressively. “I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

Grace bit her lip. Sir William de Tracy, her mind kept screaming. Of all the knights, of all the men, why him? Why him? “But Father --”

Lord Alan smashed a fist against the table. “You. Will. Do. As. I. Say.”

Tears entered Grace’s eyes. She straightened in obedience, stifling the sob rising in her throat. She stared at him, at his furious eyes, at his hard face, at his puckered angry lips. He had never been happy with her. Not since her mother had died. He had avoided her and only issued sharp reprimands when he spoke to her at all.

She turned slowly away and walked from the room. Where was the knight she had prayed to the Lord for every night since her mother’s death? Where was the man she could love? Her heart sank. That was all just a childish fantasy.

CHAPTER 3

One Month Later

D
arkness had descended over Willoughby Castle
. No moon shone in the sky, no stars twinkled. It was as though the sky was hiding behind a thick coating of dark clouds.

Lord Alan Willoughby paced before the dead hearth, his fists clenched tightly. His movement as he spun to walk back over his path was quick and precise.

Servants hid out of sight near the kitchens. Even his own guards stood well over a sword’s thrust away from their lord.

A guard entered the room and crossed the large expanse of the Great Hall, rushes crunching beneath his booted feet. He stopped before Lord Alan and bowed. “M’lord.”

Lord Alan faced the man. “What word?”

“We’ve searched the entire day, m’lord. We cannot find her.”

“Cannot?!” Lord Alan roared and took a step toward his guard.

“M’lord,” the guard said calmly, holding his ground. “All the men are searching. We will find her.”

“But you haven’t!” Lord Alan whirled away. He stood stiffly for a moment and then grabbed the edge of a wooden table. With a mighty howl of anger, he flipped the table over onto its side, sending candle sticks spinning over the rushes. Hounds scattered with whimpers. Servants ducked back behind the safety of the stone walls.

The guard took a step back, moving out of the way of the corner of the tumbling table.

“Find her!” Lord Alan commanded. “No one rests until she is back at Willoughby Castle.”

“Aye, m’lord.” The guard bowed slightly and departed the room.

Sir William de Tracy watched from a safe distance across the room. Not because he was afraid. Nothing scared him anymore. Nothing human at any rate. He watched because he had arrived only hours before and was trying to assess what had happened. He had not been greeted upon his arrival at the castle, and no servants had attended him. He simply rode in beneath an open portcullis to an empty courtyard. A stable boy had taken his horse, but that had been the extent of his welcome. Not that he expected trumpets and fanfare as welcome, but perhaps a man to lead him into the castle. It was strange. Lord Alan had requested his presence a month ago. He had come as soon as he was able. William remembered Lord Alan as a calmer man, a man of reserve. His father and Lord Alan had been good friends, so he had seen Lord Alan many times over the years. But this man was desperate and angry.

“What are you all waiting here for?” Lord Alan screamed. “Go! Go and find her! Bring her back.”

The rest of the guards near the doorway scattered out the door, leaving only William in the room with the cowering hounds and Lord Alan. William came out of the shadows as Lord Alan turned toward the hearth with a heavy sigh. “Lord Alan?”

He turned, an angry scowl on his gray brow. When he laid eyes on William, his composure turned confused for a moment as he fought for recognition. It wasn’t until William was two steps away from him that identification dawned in his aged eyes. “Sir William,” he said with a sigh. He shook his head. “It’s good to see you, boy.” He extended his hand and clasped his arm in warrior fashion.

“You requested my presence,” William said.

“Yes. Yes.” Lord Alan released his arm. He looked at the floor, composing his thoughts. “This is not how I anticipated speaking with you.” He sat heavily in one of the chairs near the hearth. He was silent for a long moment.

William waited patiently, standing beside him. He wasn’t certain what was happening, but obviously Lord Alan was very busy with something of import.

“Long ago, your father and I betrothed you and my daughter,” Lord Alan said softly.

William had heard as much from his own father, but that had been long ago. He was ready to let Lord Alan out of the obligation. That was why he had come. No man would ever want his daughter married to him.

“I intend to adhere to your father’s wishes.”

Shock raced through William. He shook his head in confusion and denial. “You must have heard...”

Lord Alan waved his hand as if brushing away a gnat. “It makes no difference. You are still Baron of Bradninch and Lord of the Manors of Toddington, Gloucestershire, and of Moretonhampstead. Your father and I spoke for long hours about combining our lands. It was his dying wish.”

William had not been there when his father passed, but he knew it had been a dream of his to grow his lands. “Lord Alan. Much has transpired since these vows were made. I certainly will not hold you or your daughter to them.”

Lord Alan sighed softly. A soft cough issued from his throat, but he swallowed it down. “I am old.” The coughing persisted until it grew to a hacking, overwhelming roar that all but doubled Lord Alan over. He spit on the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

As Lord Alan righted himself, William noticed a thin golden chain around his neck with a pendant dangling from it. On the pendant was an engraving of a black cat.

Lord Alan tucked the pendant into his tunic. “I don’t have much time left in this world. I would see my daughter well cared for.”

“There must be other men.”

Lord Alan straightened. “I will honor all my dues, as you should,” he said. His chin rose and his eyes hardened. It looked as though he were insulted. “Your father was a dear friend. I promised my daughter to you and you shall have her.”

William didn’t know what to say. It was true, everything he said. Yet, William also knew no man in their right mind would bind their daughter to him. Something else was going on here. “Very well. If it is your wish. I will wed the Lady Grace.” He looked around expecting her to be standing near the kitchen door or in the shadows of the hearth. “Where is she?”

Lord Alan’s hands curled into fists above the arm rests. “Whisked away. Kidnapped, I’m afraid.” He struggled to his feet and lay a heavy hand on William’s shoulder. “Find her. Bring her back to me.”

CHAPTER 4

G
race held onto Sir Curtis Mortain
from behind as his horse thundered down the road. Trees rushed by; the wind blew her hair back from her face and her eyes teared. The speed at which they rode was reckless and made her uneasy, but it distracted her from thinking about what she was doing. She pressed her face into Curtis’s back, hiding from the wind. Her father would be furious she had fled. She scowled. She didn’t care about what her father would think or do. How could he betroth her to Sir William? How could he think she would marry Sir William? He was a monster! She heard of what he had done. Entering a sacred cathedral and slaying one of God’s servants. He was evil. How could her father want her to marry such a monster? Sir William was excommunicated, barred from the Church! She shook herself. She didn’t want to think about it, about
him
, about her father. She would have done anything to escape the marriage. She was so glad for Sir Curtis. Surely he was the knight she had prayed for.

They rode through the darkness, the moon high overhead casting shadows onto the road before them. She wasn’t afraid even though it was dark and these roads were said to be inhabited by bandits and cutthroats. She knew Curtis would protect her. As Curtis slowed the horse, she sat up and looked around. The road was empty. The sparse trees dotting the roadside gave no clue of danger.

“Fear not,” Curtis said. “I’m giving my horse a rest.”

She nodded. The slower pace gave her time to think. A strange sadness came over her. She was leaving the only home she had known. She was sad that it had come to this, where the only escape for her was leaving her home. Her mother would have been disappointed in her choice. But she couldn’t live with her father. Not any longer. Not after the hatred she saw when she looked into his eyes. And she didn’t know why. She didn’t know what she had done. She had tried everything to please him, even embroidering a magnificent crest on his tunic. She found all her hard work burning in the hearth in his solar. She had brought him breakfast. He had left it untouched. She had discovered the only way to make him happy was to avoid him, to stay out of his way.

Her thoughts shifted to the last incident that forced her departure. Betrothing her to Sir William. Why would her father do that to her? Why would he insist she marry such a man? There were other men she could marry, like Sir Curtis. Why Sir William? Her father had spoken of honor and responsibility and honoring one’s vows. But there was another reason. There had to be. Could he hate her so much? She never knew what she did, but after her mother died it was different between them. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her. He would scowl at her and his lips would twist in distaste whenever he saw her.

Still, she had been willing to stay, even though his anger and rejection hurt. She knew she had responsibilities. But this betrothal... It was too much. She would have no future. Her family would be cursed and she could not do that to children. To her children.

And then Curtis had offered to take her away. How could she say no? She would have done anything to escape the marriage. Curtis had told her such comforting stories about how they would live in his childhood cottage… She really hadn’t cared. She just knew she had to leave. And he was kind to her. He was her friend.

“There,” Sir Curtis said, jarring her from her thoughts. He pointed to a building in the distance. It was shadowed with glowing and dancing firelight in the windows.

“What is it?” Grace wondered.

“We will rest there.”

“Do you think that wise?” she asked. Her father would have men searching every inn along the road.

“Are you saying you know better than me?” he asked with a small, condescending chuckle.

“I’m suggesting we look for something else. The guards will be searching buildings along the road.”

“We will stop for food and provisions. We won’t be long.”

She grunted acceptingly, but it seemed like a bad idea. They should be hiding in the forest or keep moving.

“Did you bring coin?”

She blinked and sat back away from him. “A few coins. Like we discussed.” It was all she could manage to take. She had never had need for coin, but she had a few.

He brought the horse into a cantor and steered it toward the building.

Loud, robust singing came from inside. Apprehension gripped Grace. She looked over her shoulder, half expecting her father’s men to be galloping down the road to cut them off.

Curtis slid from the horse and reached up for her. She put her hands on his shoulders, but her gaze was on the wooden building. In the moonlight, the teetering inn looked barely able to stand. It seemed to sway in the small breeze. There was a stable in the back of the inn that was in no better shape. “Curtis, must we stop here? It doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“Just for a moment. Do not be afraid,“ he proclaimed, thrusting out his chest. ”I shall protect you.“

Grace couldn’t help but smile. He had posed in that exact same position when they were young and he pretended to fight off some invisible monster.

She nodded. Unfortunately, her father’s men were not invisible monsters.

Curtis led the way into the stable. Musky and smelling of dust and hay, the stable was dark and unwelcoming. Grace stepped to the side so Curtis could stable his horse in one of the wooden stalls. When he returned to her, she took a step out of the stable, grateful for the fresh air.

“It will be best if you remain here with the horse. Just so no one sees you.”

Startled, Grace whirled on him. “What about you?”

“I shall get our food and be out straight away.” He stepped past her. “No one knows me. They do not know you fled with me. It will be safer if I enter alone.”