The Dark Knight (43 page)

“ ’Tis amazingly quiet!” she said.

“Aye, the sounds travel up the outer sides of the walls.
You will find everything is louder on the upper stories along the street, but all is fairly peaceful near the gardens. The hall is directly in front of us, along with the kitchen and butteries. There is a solar and suites of rooms in the west wing where we will stay. The stables and river are on the other side, behind the hall, so that lends some quiet as well. There is a—”

She turned to look up at him when he fell silent. “What is wrong?”

He slowly shook his head, but that movement did not seem to be in response to her question. She followed the direction of his gaze to a pair of men who were walking toward them along the pathway. Both wore rich garments made of brocades and silks, accented by finely tooled leather boots and belts. The tall one on the left with blond hair and blue eyes looked like he belonged in a tale of Vikings, although the colors of his tunic were a bit startling. It was a credit to his masculinity that he did not look foolish in the feminine shades of yellow, white, and pink. The second man was older, not as dangerous-looking as the first, and dressed in more somber shades of gray. As she made those brief observations, she felt everything in Dante go still and stiff. Whoever these men were, he was not pleased to see them. He did not bother to dismount when they were close enough to stop and extend a greeting.

“Greetings, my lord,” the older man said, as he bowed low to Dante. The look he gave his master was filled with uncertainty. “I was unable to send word to inform you of our visitors. The king commandeered the east wing and much of the main hall for his daughter and her retinue. This is the captain of her guard, Sir Gerhardt. He requested to speak with you immediately upon your arrival.”

Dante remained rudely silent, as if his servant had not
spoken at all and deserved no response. She could feel the tension in him, but did not take her eyes off the two men to take a further inventory of his reaction. Instead she folded her hands in her lap and remained silent.

The blond-haired man, Sir Gerhardt, also bowed to Dante, although not as low as the servant. When he spoke, a foreign, guttural-sounding accent made his words hard to understand, but it helped that he had a firm grasp of the language. “I beg your pardon for any inconvenience, Lord Dante. My lady, Isabel of Ascalon, is recently arrived in London and needed quarters for herself and her retinue. Her father suggested your residence would be ideal and, indeed, we have found your hospitality exceptional.”

“Why is she here?” Dante asked, his voice hard. “I thought Isabel was wed to some Bavarian noble.”

“My lady became a widow when my prince succumbed to a fever last year,” Gerhardt said. “The mourning period has ended and her father wishes her to remarry. He bid her return to England to await his choice of husband. My lady was called to court just yesterday to speak with her father about the matter.”

“How long will she be here?”

Gerhardt’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. If he was offended by the blunt question, he hid it well. “My lady has not made me privy to that knowledge. A few days, a few months, I know not.”

“Wonderful,” Dante muttered. He released a deep sigh. “Your lady is welcome to my hospitality as long as she wishes, of course. We will be in the west wing and I see no reason for our presence to interrupt you in any way. Let Reginald know if you need anything.”

Gerhardt pressed his lips together over the obvious dismissal, but did not move aside. “My lady begs the favor of your company at the evening meal, Lord Dante. May I tell her that you have agreed?”

Dante’s horse shifted its weight and pawed the ground with one hoof while Gerhardt awaited his answer. The animal was impatient to be on its way. Avalene guessed that Dante felt the same way. “We have just returned from a long journey and will not be fit company for anyone but ourselves until we have had a chance to rest and refresh ourselves. We look forward to meeting your lady at the midday meal tomorrow.”

The corners of Gerhardt’s eyes tightened. “Lady Isabel will be greatly disappointed if she does not meet her host this eve.”

There was a hostile undercurrent in Gerhardt’s tone. Dante’s reply formed icicles in that current. “I am certain she will understand.”

“As you wish, Lord Dante.” Gerhardt gave him another bow that was just short of insolent. “I will inform my lady that she must be patient another day before she can make your acquaintance.”

Dante waited until Gerhardt walked away before he addressed his servant, whom Avalene guessed was also his steward. “Are my quarters unoccupied, Reginald?”

Reginald’s eyes widened. “Of course, my lord! I would never disobey your orders and let any guest trespass into your private apartments, no matter their rank. Lady Isabel is in the chamber your sister and her husband use when they are in residence. Her retinue fair fills the east wing; her soldiers and the king’s soldiers are quartered in the hall and the barracks above the stables. I have moved our soldiers and servants to the west wing.”

“There are royal soldiers in residence?” Dante asked, clearly surprised.

“They are to accompany Isabel on her journey to her new husband’s castle,” Reginald explained. “There are a score of her personal guard from the prince’s household, and one hundred of King Edward’s soldiers.” He gave
Gerhardt’s retreating figure a cryptic look. “The king worries for his daughter’s safety.”

“Apparently,” Dante agreed. “We will take the horses to the stables ourselves and take the walkway to my quarters. Have a meal brought to us immediately as well as a tirewoman for my lady and hot water for her bath.”

“This shall be done, my lord.”

“You will join us for the meal and tell me all you know of this situation.”

“Aye, my lord.” Reginald gave one more low bow and then stepped aside to let their horses pass.

Dante’s body remained so rigid as they rode forward that it dampened much of the awe and enjoyment she felt at seeing his home. Still, she took silent inventory of everything she could see without being conspicuous in her curiosity, including the huge set of steps at the end of the lane that led up to a wide set of double doors; obviously the great hall.

Dante turned onto a path that ran along the front of the hall to an archway cut into the building itself. They emerged on the other side into the stable yard where Dante dismounted first, and then gently set her down before him. She was glad to have his arms to hold on to. He held firmly to her waist until she steadied herself.

She felt a surge of relief that she would not be required to mount a horse again in the immediate future. Her journey had ended, and yet, strangely, she felt as if it had just begun. She spoke to him under her breath. “I cannot believe you referred to this place as a house!”

The corners of his lips quirked upward, the first sign of humor she had seen since they rode through the gates. “I thought it would be easier to show you rather than try to explain.” His humor faded. “Although you will not be able to see as much of the place as I would like
while Isabel and her people are in residence. This was … unexpected.”

“You promised me time,” she reminded him. “Perhaps we will not see much of your guests at all.”

The smile was back, wolfish now. He turned her toward a stairway that led to a door above the arch. “Come, I will show you to our quarters. A hot bath will arrive soon enough.” He stopped before a dark wooden door. “Here we are.” And then she heard him murmur under his breath in Italian,
“Infine.”

At last
.

Dante never thought much about the palace; it was simply a place to stay when he was in London. His steward made certain of its upkeep and the captain of the guard made certain of its defenses, but he did not consider this his home. That title would always belong to the palazzo in Venice. Still, he had accumulated the usual types of rewards for a man in his position, meaning they were not at all usual since the king rarely paid in coin. There were jewel-encrusted weapons, goblets and plates made of solid gold, exotic silks and spices, along with even more unusual items. Most were stored in the treasury, but some of the best pieces had found their way to his apartments. He appreciated beautiful things.

Now he tried to view his quarters through Avalene’s eyes as he led her from the hallway into the large solar, wondering if the comforts he had acquired and the trinkets that were scattered about would please her. His apartments encompassed half a dozen spacious rooms.
There were doors that led to the other chambers from the solar, but only the solar had access to the main hallway. He explained that Oliver and Armand would stay in two of the chambers, and then passed through an antechamber on the opposite side of the solar where a small bed was made up and Rami-sized clothing hung from pegs on one wall, and then he showed her into his bedchamber.

All the while Avalene wandered silently in his wake, her hand tracing over the surfaces of tables and the objects placed there, her slender fingers touching the brocade of cushions and window hangings, her wide gaze taking in an intricately wrought set of silver candlesticks. His eyes lost their focus when she trailed her hand up one of the smooth wooden posters of his bed and then back down again.

Something about the innocent movement was so erotic that his body turned instantly hard. How often had he pictured her here, in his bedchamber? He wanted to take her right then and there. Instead he closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Later. For now, she would want time to settle into her new quarters and refresh herself. Tonight he wanted everything to be perfect. Throwing her onto the bed and then tossing up her skirts would hardly be considered perfect. Well, not in her mind.

He smiled to himself at the thought. She would probably surprise him on that score as well. He had never been with a virgin before, but he was fairly certain most were not as … enthusiastic as Avalene had been last night. She kept her emotions buried very deep, but drawing them to the surface was like opening Pandora’s box; once opened, there was no stopping what poured forth. And yet she worried that she wouldn’t please him. She seemed oblivious to the fact that she was as close to
perfection as he could imagine, while he was far from it. Fate was, indeed, a kind mistress.

However, her silence since they reached the palace was beginning to bother him. Was it just his imagination, or was she unusually quiet? Her eyes were thoughtful as she examined his bedchamber and then followed him back to the solar, but there were no more questions. He wanted to ask what she was thinking but decided to wait until they were alone. Rami had followed them as far as the solar, and soon the servants arrived with a large wooden tub and then countless buckets of hot water. He directed them to place the tub in his bedchamber, and then motioned for Avalene to go with the tirewoman.

“There is a bathhouse near the river where my men and I will clean up while you are taking your bath,” he told her. The look of apprehension on her face made him hesitate. She just needed time to get settled. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are safe here. No one will bother you while we are away.”

She lifted her chin in that regal way of hers and gave him a stiff nod. “Of course, my lord. Thank you for arranging a private bath for me. I am sure we will all feel better once we have bathed.”

He managed to give her a reassuring smile that lasted until she disappeared into his bedchamber, and then unease unfurled in his belly. Her words seemed to imply that she was not feeling better now, but what was she feeling worse about? He stared stupidly at the closed door to his chamber and wondered if it was significant that this was the first time she had addressed him as “my lord.”

The lack of sleep was catching up with him, he decided. He was reading too much into a few polite words. He tucked a bundle of clean clothing under his arm and
gave Rami a curt order to guard the door. The look in Avalene’s eyes when he told her he was leaving the solar hastened his steps, and he completed his bath in record time.

It worried him, this growing power she held over him, but he no longer had the will or wish to see it ended. The initial attraction that had built from the moment they met had crystallized into something else entirely when she had blithely told him,
I am in love with you
. His whole world had shifted in that moment. Those words still shook something deep inside him. He had never dreamed she would say them, and couldn’t help but wonder when she would come to her senses and realize they were a mistake. She still seemed completely unaware that he was the single most dangerous thing she had ever encountered in her life. And yet somehow she had known that she was completely and utterly safe with him before he knew it himself.

She was right, of course. He would never be able to harm her now, no matter the cost to himself. He would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe. She trusted him. She knew who and what he was, and still she looked at him with that same intoxicating mixture of innocence and desire. How could he not love her?