A Knight With Grace: Book 1 of the Assassin Knights Series (13 page)

She smiled demurely at him.

His heart pounded in his chest, his loins tightened. Lord, she was beautiful. And intelligent. How was he going to give her up?

CHAPTER 14

W
hen the meal was over
, an energetic and a little too excited Emily led William and Grace down the corridor. “...roses and the cook has a small herb garden. She’s teaching me how to plant. Because, as William knows, nothing I’ve planted has ever survived.”

William didn’t have the heart to tell her that when he was young, he found Ralph stomping on her newly planted growth. When he asked him why, Ralph said it was funny to see Emily so frustrated. He had never told her because it would break her heart. And he could never betray his brother’s trust.

It was amazing the way the old memories came rushing back as they moved through the corridors. Ralph, Emily, his father, and mother. So many carefree recollections from his childhood. Chasing Emily down the hallway because she stole his sword. Walking down the hall with his father explaining the tallies. Hiding from Ralph behind the tapestry in a game of hide and seek.

He chanced a glance at Grace. She walked beside him quietly, looking up at the tapestries they passed. Her clean hair was golden and styled up, allowing him a view of the line of her neck. Her skin was so smooth, so lovely. Kissable. The thought had entered his mind so quickly it startled him and he looked away...

...right into Emily’s eyes. Her knowing gaze and slow grin caused him to scowl a warning at her. She was up to something, he was sure of it.

“The meal was lovely,” Grace said.

William turned to her. Not as lovely as you, he thought.

“Lovely?” Emily snorted. “That impertinent knight! He should have been beheaded.” She clasped Grace’s hands. “But you handled it so well! Don’t you think, William? Wasn’t Grace spectacular?”

“Absolutely,” William agreed.

“No,” Grace protested. “He had no right. You pay him for his services. He pledged fealty to your brother. He has no right to speak to you thus.”

A wave of guilt spread through William. She was right. Instead of taking a stand as she had, he hid in his room to avoid confrontation. He always told himself it was part of his penance, to endure the anger from others, to put up with their disdain without fighting back. Perhaps that attitude was wrong. He looked at Grace. Perhaps it was time for a change. “Either way. I thank you for what you did.”

She looked at him, her eyes sparkling as they settled on his. “I could do no less.”

His heart melted. God’s blood, he was in trouble. How was he going to let her go without losing his heart? He couldn’t stop looking at her. She was stunning. Her grin set desire flaring through his loins.

“Here it is,” Emily said quietly, barely able to conceal the smile on her lips. She waited for a moment before opening the door. “Now, remember. This is only a small garden. Cook’s and mine. But I’m very proud of it.”

The door opened onto a starry sky. A trellis laced with roses led into a small area lined with herbs and vegetables. It was tucked away into a corner of the manor home that was basically useless for anything else. It was perfect.

Grace gasped. “It’s beautiful.”

Emily beamed with pride. She led the way through the small garden, which William noted was almost the exact size of the garden that was at the Mortain cottage. Emily pointed to a small corner. “Cook has let me plant here. These are mine.”

“What have you planted?” Grace wondered.

“Onions.” She pointed to a small line of growing plants. “See. There. And turnips.”

Grace nodded. “They seem to be thriving.”

Emily nodded, happily. “It makes me wonder if my earlier attempts weren’t sabotaged.” She glanced at William with narrowed eyes.

William held up his hands. “I can tell you truthfully that I never touched your plants.”

Emily humphed and turned to gaze at her garden. “Oh! Goodness! I’ve forgotten. Cook asked for my help. I’m so sorry. I shall find you when I am done.” She raced back through the door, leaving William and Grace staring after her.

They both watched the closing door for a long moment in disbelief. William chuckled softly. “I must apologize, my lady. That was not very subtle.”

“No,” Grace agreed.

“Emily means well, but she is known to interfere in the affairs of others.”

“I thought bringing us to this romantic setting and her quick departure seemed a little contrived.”

“You are not insulted?”

“Not at all. I think it’s delightful. Emily must love you very much. She is only doing what she thinks best for you.” Grace sighed softly. “I wish I had a cousin like her.”

“She would love to be your friend. I’m afraid we don’t have many women in the Tracy family of Emily’s age.”

Silence settled around them, leaving them to look at the surrounding garden.

William’s stare returned to Grace to find her gazing at him.

She laughed softly as if caught doing something she shouldn’t. She glanced quickly away to the garden.

“I noticed you looking at the tapestries. What did you think of them?” William said.

“I love them. The colors are vibrant. Most tapestries that I have seen depict violent images of war. But the ones here show jousts and courtly love and falconry. They are beautiful.”

William couldn’t tear his gaze from her. He had never realized it, but she was right. Each tapestry lining the walls at the manor home were familiar to him, but he had never really looked at them. He should have noticed they showed no war or death or blood. It took Grace to point this out to him. Or did he simply see death and blood everywhere he looked?

Her blue eyes warmed and sparkled. A gentle breeze blew a lock of her golden hair across her cheek.

Except in Grace. He did not see despair and ruin. He only saw beauty and kindness in her. He lifted a hand to brush the strand aside but froze. He was not worthy of a woman like Grace. She deserved someone who could give her serenity and happiness. He fisted his hand and lowered it.

Grace caught his fist in her small hands. “I was wrong about you, William. You are the most noble, honorable knight I have ever met.”

William was shocked into silence. He shook his head to protest.

Grace cupped his cheek, stroking his skin with her thumb. “I want you to know that. I want you to believe that.”

Again, William shook his head. “You don’t know me.”

“But I do. I know the man you are now. Your past doesn’t matter to me.”

Need and desire flamed through him. He knew he shouldn’t believe her. But he wanted to. He knew he shouldn’t kiss her. But he wanted to. He lowered his lips to hers, half expecting her to pull away, but hoping she wouldn’t.

Grace lifted her lips to William.

He pulled her close and tight against his body, taking what she offered. God’s blood! She was delicious and warm. He wasn’t use to tenderness or softness. He wasn’t used to be... being wanted. Her kiss was a breath of fresh air. She sighed softly against him and he plunged his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. Wanting her. All of her. Her body was soft against his. Her arms moved up his back, holding him. She was actually kissing him back!

He needed to save her. He pulled back from her but kept her in his arms. He looked into her dreamy, half-closed eyes and arousal shot to life in him, filling his veins and his manhood. “You are tired, Lady Grace,” he said softly. “I will see you to your room.”

She blinked. And then blinked again as reality swept in around her. She stepped away from him, folding her hands before her. “Yes.”

He guided her back toward the door, grateful for the gentle, cooling breeze. He opened the door.

Emily stood there, surprise in her wide eyes. As if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Then, a slow smile spread over her lips. “I was just coming back.”

William narrowed his eyes. “I’m certain you were.” She had been waiting here for them the entire time. Cook had not needed her help, he was certain. “Lady Grace is tired. I am showing her to her room.”

Emily nodded. She seized Grace’s hands. “Perhaps I could sleep in your room tonight! Just like sisters!”

William moaned to himself. He knew he should protest, but he knew it would do no good.

Emily pleaded with Grace to allow her to sleep in her room. Grace relented. How could she not? It was not her manor home. She was only a guest.

As Emily slept beside her, Grace stared at the moon through the shutters in her room. She was having difficulty falling asleep. Could she have been so wrong? Had her prayers been answered all along in William? He was honorable, noble, and so very handsome. His blue eyes weakened her knees. His kiss sent her world spinning, made her entire body come to life. She had to admit that she was falling in love with him.

Could the story of him murdering the archbishop be wrong? King Henry had not punished him, nor taken any of his lands away, so perhaps what William said was true. That the king had ordered the archbishop’s killing. Or was she wrong and she was justifying what he did because she was starting to have feelings for him?

She turned over onto her back with a sigh. This line of thinking certainly wasn’t going to get her any sleep. She saw a shadow move in her room. At first, she thought it was Anna, the servant that had been assigned to her. She glanced at Emily. But Emily hadn’t moved. Grace sat up, trying to see into the room. Perhaps she had imagined it.

“Emily?” Grace whispered and reached out to shake her. Her fingers touched something wet. Confused, she stared at her fingers for a moment. Then a shadow rose to life beside her, separating from the rest.

Instinctively, Grace pulled away from it. She slipped over the wetness near Emily and they both slid from the bed into a pile on the floor. Grace turned over in time to see the shadow on the bed. “Run, Emily!”

Someone was in her room! She was certain this time. She turned onto her hands and knees and crawled toward the door, calling, “William!” She managed to get her feet beneath her, but they caught in her nightdress and she fell onto her knee. She heard a whoosh over head. She tumbled forward and fell onto her back as the shadow flew over her head. The moonlight glinted on a metal blade whizzing past her.

She screamed.

CHAPTER 15

W
illiam flung open the door
just in time to hear Grace scream. He rushed into the room, the torchlight from the hallway washing into the room along with him. She was on the floor. He looked around, but could not see anyone else in the room. He rushed to Grace and saw red staining the side of her nightdress. He knew what the coloring was. He had seen it many times. His heart skipped a beat. Blood!

She pointed frantically at the door. “There! There!”

He dropped to his knees before her, grabbing her arms. “Are you all right?” he demanded, his gaze moving over her. He didn’t give a damn who was here; he was frantic for her, terrified she was hurt. There was blood in her hair, on her clothing. “Are you hurt?”

“He’s getting away!”

He shook her. “Grace! Are you hurt?”

She moved her head from side to side, her wild, round-eyed gaze focusing on him.

William glanced over his shoulder, but the doorway was empty. He ran to the door and looked left and then right. Whoever did this was gone. He returned to Grace’s side, afraid to leave her. He helped her stand. Concern marred her smooth brow and she looked at the floor near the bed.

“Emily,” she whispered.

William followed her gaze. Dread spread through him as he saw a figure in white lying face down near the bed. He stepped by Grace, ordering, “Stay there.” He hurried to the figure and knelt beside her. There was so much blood! It covered the floor and the bedding. He gently eased her onto her back.

Emily’s limp body turned easily, falling into his lap. Her eyes were open, her lifeless gaze staring in accusation. Why didn’t you protect me?

William’s hands began to tremble. His gaze moved over her. A thin line across her throat oozed her life blood. Oh, Lord. Not Emily. Not Emily. Tears rose in his eyes. He had seen Death so many times. But he had never seen Him touch an innocent life. Except the archbishop. He almost dropped Emily at the thought. This was punishment. Punishment for his sin. He looked down at his blood stained hands. Everything he touched was damned. He was a fool to ever hope God would forgive him. He was cursed, doomed to the fires of Hell for all eternity. William clenched his teeth, gazing down at Emily. If he would never be forgiven, if there was no way to escape his future, then why honor his vow of never killing again? He wouldn’t. He would find this assassin. He knew who it was. It was the man he had encountered at the Mortain cottage. He would find Peter and kill him.

William gritted his teeth. If he had killed him when they were at the cottage, when he had the chance, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have been able to hurt Emily. She would still be alive. But his vow had prevented him from shedding any more blood. Now, poor innocent Emily was gone because he didn’t have the courage to kill again!

He brushed her blood-stained blonde hair from her forehead and carefully closed her eyes with trembling fingers. He held her for a long moment, unable or unwilling, to let her go. Finally, he slowly stood, unable to take his gaze from his cousin. Emily, his mind screamed. Little Emily. Rage swirled within him and he whirled...