A Knight With Grace: Book 1 of the Assassin Knights Series (9 page)

She nodded, wrapping one hand around the pommel of the saddle and one around one of his arms.

He urged Hellfire forward, and the other horse matched pace. Then he spurred his horse hard into a full out gallop. He charged down the road. He heard a whoosh and bent low over Grace, trying to protect her. He was certain it had been an arrow. Anger rose up in William. A man looking to bring a kidnapped woman back to the castle would not be firing arrows at her. There was much more going on here than met the eye. He kicked Hellfire, urging his steed faster. Faster. His fingers masterfully clutched the reins, maneuvering the horse from side to side, making it harder for the arrows to find their mark. The only positive thing that could come from the existence of arrows was that arrows meant a bow, and a bow meant Peter was most likely standing somewhere, aiming. Peter would have to mount his horse and give chase. Those few moments would give them time to escape. Precious little time, but better than nothing.

William pushed Hellfire on. The two horses charged down the road, quickly reaching a junction where the road split in two. He untied Mortain’s horse and urged him down the road leading to Willoughby Castle before steering Hellfire down the other fork.

Grace watched Curtis’s horse ride away. “Do you think it will work?”

William hoped so, but he was taking no chances. “I don’t know.”

As they turned a bend in the road, William had to swerve Hellfire to avoid a farmer with a cart full of cabbages who shouted angrily after him. Hellfire stumbled and almost fell, but righted himself.

William kept up the pace, listening to hear if the farmer shouted again. That would mean Peter was giving chase. But as he listened, the shout never came. Still, William did not relent. The more distance they put between them and the bowman, the better. And William knew Peter would not give up.

After traveling for a good time at a quick pace, the clouds parted and the sun beat down on them from almost directly over head. William turned Hellfire off of the main road.

“Where are we going?” Grace asked.

“I’m hoping that the man will follow Mortain’s horse toward Willoughby Castle. That’s where he’ll expect us to go. He may even be riding ahead to cut us off.”

“We’re not going to Willoughby Castle?”

“Not yet. There’s a stream up here. It flows into the river Bovey.”

She twisted in the saddle to look at him. “Bovey?”

William stared into the distance, toward the town of Bovey. “I’m hoping this will throw him off of our trail. We’re going to my home.”

Grace finally relaxed when William slowed Hellfire and guided him through the water at a walk. She glanced over her shoulder, taking in the surrounding forest. “Is he gone?”

“Not for good,” William answered. There was a certainty in his tone that made Grace nervous. “We’ve distanced ourselves from him and with any luck lost him. But he will be back. He won’t give up.”

“What does he want?”

“You. He was looking for you.”

“To bring me back,” Grace answered solemnly.

William glanced behind them for a moment before twisting to face forward. “How well did you know Sir Curtis?”

She scowled, considering his question. “He was a friend. He worked at my father’s castle for years. Why do you ask?”

William was silent for a long moment.

Grace twisted to look back at him.

His blue eyes were focused intently on a point in front of them. “We talked about ransom. Remember I told you you were lucky? He could have killed you.”

Grace nodded. She remembered his words. He had been trying to figure out why Curtis would have brought her back to a place that was so easy to find.

William reached back and with a tug pulled something from one of the bags. He brought his fist forward and it was wrapped around an arrow shaft. “Apparently, that was exactly what he had in mind.”

CHAPTER 11

S
hock raced through Grace as
she stared at the arrow William clutched in his hand. Curtis had wanted her dead? They were friends! She had known him all of her life! She trembled even as everything in her body rebelled at the prospect. “It can’t be. Why do you say this?”

“I know that man who came to the cottage. He is a killer. He kills for coin. And not much of it.”

Numbness and disbelief spread through Grace. She couldn’t believe it. “Maybe my father hired him to bring me back.”

“Your father has castle guards to bring you back. He would not have hired a man like him.”

It just couldn’t be. Curtis couldn’t have wanted the coin. They were friends. She trusted him. He wanted her dead? It was too much to believe. “Sir Curtis was a knight bound by his oaths. He would not have hurt me.”

“He wasn’t going to.”

Silence spread as Grace thought about William’s words. Curtis had eaten most of the food under the pretense of needing his strength to protect her. He had not taken very good care of her, nor had he remained with her to protect her. Nothing he had done made any sense. She had given him coin, under his direction, so they could escape. He had taken her to his old home, which turned out to be the exact place they would come to look for her. Would he have paid someone to kill her? Could William be right? She shook her head, still not believing Curtis was capable of something like that. She knew him. Or thought she did.

Distressed, disturbed, and unsure, she remained silent. Thoughts swirled through her mind. They had made plans of escape and a future together. But as she thought back on their journey, she realized he hadn’t come up with the idea of running; she was the one who had thought of it. And he hadn’t brought up the thought of their fantasy life together; she had asked him about it. He had told her once of his father’s cottage, but she was the one who had decided they would live there. The only thing he had contributed was asking her to bring coin. She bowed her head. What a fool she was! She had been so blind, so eager to run away from a marriage to a knight who was damned that she had not seen the reality before her. She looked up at William, her thoughts returning to the man pursuing them. “Can you stop him?”

“I will see you back to your father safely,” William proclaimed. There was no doubt in his voice, only fact.

She felt tears flood through her eyes, closing her throat. He would take her home. To her father. Back to another man who wanted nothing to do with her. Maybe in the face of her prolonged absence, her father's anger would calm. While she was at Bovey with William, perhaps her father would know she was safe and that would be enough for him. Perhaps. But she knew it wouldn’t be. She had never been able to make him happy. Not him or any man. Not her father, not Curtis.

The horse moved from side to side beneath her as it walked forward. William’s arms were around her, clutching the reins. “You needn’t worry, Grace,” William said softly. “I will protect you and see you safely home. The marriage will be dissolved and you will have everything you wanted.”

Grace nodded and looked away. Yes. Everything she wanted, her mind repeated but there was doubt festering at the edge of her mind that made mockery of his words. Was she sure of what she wanted anymore?

When William was convinced they were not being followed, they stopped near a stream in the forest. William gave her bread to eat and left her alone by the stream. She rinsed her hair and face and any exposed skin she could manage to reach without removing any clothing.

When she returned to their camp, the sun was setting. Dappled red light fell upon the ground. At first, she didn’t see William and her stomach clenched in nervousness. Had he abandoned her? But as she stepped around a tree, she saw him on his knees. She inhaled in alarm, thinking at first he was hurt. Then she saw his folded hands and bowed head and realized he was praying. His dark hair fell over his strong shoulders. His powerful body was completely still. His eyes were closed.

The sight shocked her. A cursed knight was praying? To a God who didn’t listen. The irony didn’t escape her. She turned to go, but stopped. The golden rays of the sun touched his head and shoulders making a halo of gold. She couldn’t take her gaze from him. She knew she was intruding and she should let him pray, but she couldn’t move; she could only stare at the sight of the humbled knight on his knees. He was magnificent. So strong and so proud. And so amazingly handsome.

And cursed.

She felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She wished he wasn’t cursed. She wished he hadn’t killed the archbishop. She wished he had peace.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, locking gazes with her. He made the sign of the cross, touching his forehead, his stomach and each shoulder before standing.

Grace came forward. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“I was done.”

“Do you pray every night?”

“I pray every chance I get.”

It was the fact that he had never given up hope that sent another wave of sympathy through her. After everything that had happened to him, he still prayed. He moved by her. “Why did you do it?” she couldn’t help asking. “Why did you kill Archbishop Becket?”

He stopped cold, his shoulders stiff. He gazed into the darkness of the forest for a long moment, almost as if remembering. Then, he slowly turned his head to her. His stunning blue eyes fastened on her. “I did it for my king.” He narrowed his gaze slightly and continued past her.

There was something practiced and stiff in his speech. It was a rehearsed answer, she realized. Almost as if he had been asked so many times before that it was the only answer he could give. And it served its purpose, she realized. She had stopped asking about it.

William moved to Hellfire and opened a bag. He pulled the blankets out, handing them to her. “We can’t light a fire, but you should be warm enough with these.”

Grace took the blankets, unable to look away from him. So strong. So stoic. She felt confident he would protect her. But she had believed that about Curtis, too. “You didn’t have to do this,” she whispered, drawing his gaze. “You could have let my father’s men return me to Willoughby Castle.”

“Is that what you think of me? That I would leave you in the forest to fend for yourself until your father’s men came?” His square jaw was tight; his blue eyes snapped flame. “I suppose you would think that. After all, I am the same man who killed the archbishop.” He whirled away from her.

She stood, stunned. “Sir William!” she called. He halted, his shoulders rigid. “I meant no insult. I just thought... As my betrothed, you would be angry I ran away with another man.”

“You were under a misguided assumption. You were not running away with another man as much as running away from me. That, I can understand.”

Again, she felt the pull of heartache. Running away from him? “William,” she said, moving to his side. She reached out and touched his arm. The muscles beneath his tunic jumped at her touch. She didn’t know what to say to him; she just knew she wanted to comfort him. “You are a very honorable knight.”

He looked down at her. His hard eyes softened and he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you for thinking that.” He held her hand for a moment longer before releasing it and turning away.

Grace stood, frozen. She stared at her hand. It tingled where his lips had brushed her skin. She ran her fingers over the spot. He had kissed her.