Her Banished Knight's Redemption--The follow-up to award-winning story the Rebel Heiress and the Knight

by Melissa Oliver

  He shrugged. ‘Or worse still, succumb to another uncontrollable bout of hiccups.’

  Her shoulders rose up and down as she shook her head, chuckling softly. It made his own lips curve upwards in response.

  ‘I would be careful, Sir William, since you know that I’m masterful in the art of punching a man in his unmentionables and crushing plums.’

  ‘Duly noted,’ he said, finding it hard to contain his laughter. ‘I could never contradict that, my lady, especially after your valiant display in La Rochefoucauld.’

  Their shared laughter was a welcome respite in more ways than one since the last few days had been mired with the difficult tension growing between them.

  A tavern maid set down a pot of steaming hot fish stew, bowls, utensils and a plate of bread and local butter. Isabel dished some into each bowl and passed one to him. They were silent for a moment as they both tucked into the food.

  ‘Do you still suppose that there is danger here?’ Isabel asked.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Will nodded grimly. ‘Rolleston and his men know that it would be from La Rochelle that we would depart for England. They will be everywhere, especially near the port.’ His eyes darted around the busy tavern. ‘And that’s why we need to be extremely careful while we’re here. The longer we stay here, the more the chances of danger.’

  ‘It’s a good job that I pass so easily as a young boy, then.’

  He almost choked on his food. ‘Finish up, Isabel. We can’t linger here for too long.’

  * * *

  They made their way along the cramped lanes, taking the shortest, yet quietest, route to the Cour de la Commanderie. Will slid her a sideways glance.

  ‘What are you doing, Isabel?’

  ‘Shouldn’t you call me Alain or something?’ she hissed from the side of her mouth. ‘Anyway, I’m doing precisely as you advised. I’m trying for a masculine stance, remember. I’m trying for bluster and a little swagger.’

  ‘Is that what that is?’ Will’s eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘Your swagger is certainly different to anything I have ever seen.’

  ‘Yes, but I am only a squire, sir.’ She glanced up and bit her bottom lip. ‘I’m still perfecting my blustering and swaggering to the standard required from a squire.’

  ‘And doing an admirable job.’

  ‘My thanks, but I do have the most patient knight to direct me.’ Isabel looked up and saw the smile vanish from Will’s lips as he uttered an oath under his breath. ‘What is it?’ she asked, instantly alert.

  ‘I cannot be sure, but I believe that I saw the pock-faced man turn into this road.’

  She halted. ‘Shall we turn back?’

  ‘No,’ he muttered from under his hood. ‘Keep walking and keep your head downcast. Remember you’re a squire and doing rather well, especially with your swagger.’

  Isabel knew that he was trying to put her at ease, but the situation was suddenly more precarious than it was just moments ago. The air was charged with an uncertain, menacing quality evoking darkness and danger. And it enveloped her. She clenched her clammy hands as she strode along beside Will, her heart hammering in her chest as they walked past the pock-faced man. Everything seemed to slow at that precise moment when they passed him. The man turned his head slightly and took note of the two of them, a small scowl mapped on his face.

  ‘Keep moving quickly, but do not run. Not unless we’re forced to,’ Will’s calm, low voice rumbled beside her after they had passed the man.

  They turned a corner and went into another smaller lane, but again there was a lone man walking, looking scrupulously at everything and everyone. Before they could pass him by, Will guided her down the next road, bringing them to a junction. He dragged her left, down a wider, busier path and milled their way through before taking another left-hand turn.

  ‘Do you know where we are going?’ she panted.

  ‘All that matters for now is to rid ourselves of the clutches of Rolleston’s damned men,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t look now, Isabel, but we’re being followed.’

  ‘What are we to do?’ She couldn’t seem to hide the panic in her voice.

  ‘Steady now,’ he said evenly. ‘We carry on as before...but with a little more urgency.’

  They turned the corner down the next cobbled road, backtracked and went straight ahead, hidden among a group of boisterous sailors. Will crouched low as he was the tallest man among them, but just as they passed a doorway Will hurled her sideways into the dark recess.

  ‘Apologies, my lady,’ he whispered.

  ‘What is this fascination of yours with arched doorways?’

  Will nudged her gently, until she was backed against the door. ‘Hush, Isabel.’ He placed a finger to her lips, as she looked up, blinking in the darkness. Oh, dear...how close he was to her. They shared the same small space, even the same air. He jostled his big, hard, protective body close until there was no room left, until he was pressed against her, circling his free arm around her, holding on to her.

  She watched in fascination as his chest rose and fell and a sense of momentary calm prevailed as she stood ever so still in Will’s arms. Even though, in truth, there was little to feel safe about.

  ‘Do you think they’ll find us?’ she asked quietly against his finger still on her lips, but his only answer was a slight frown and a quick shake of his head.

  She snapped her head up. ‘Did you hear that, Will?

  ‘Hush.’

  ‘Yes, but I think it may be footsteps, I think that it could—’

  Isabel didn’t get to finish what she was saying as Will let out an irritable breath before bending his head and catching her lips with his. Her eyes widened in surprise at being kissed at such a moment and in such a place as this. Isabel knew instantly that this was one way to shut off her nervous chatter. And yet, and yet...

  William Geraint was kissing her! And although it was meant only to silence her, it gradually changed and softened with an altogether different fervour.

  His lips slanted across hers, shaping them, in featherlight kisses before pressing with a little more pressure. He slid one hand up her back, tugging down her hood and cradling her head round the back, his fingers sinking into her hair while the other hand moved up and down the column of her neck, his fingers and thumb grazing her skin. His lips probed a little more, making her gasp against his mouth. A spark of potent heat was rising in her body and running through her veins...an unstoppable, heady desire.

  Will’s lips touched the corner of hers, as he tilted her head to press hot kisses along her jawline and down the curve of her neck, his breath so warm against her skin that it made her quiver in his arms, hopelessly clinging on to him. He returned to her mouth, coaxing her lips apart as she felt the surprising touch of his tongue. He explored her mouth gently, as if he was tasting her, with tender, probing strokes. And then once again with deep, lush caresses. Nothing seemed to exist except this kiss, except them.

  It was a good thing that Will had his strong arms clasped around her, as Isabel could quite easily have melted into a boneless puddle at his feet. A needy moan caught in her throat and just when she felt brave enough to copy him tentatively, Will tore his lips from hers, finishing the kiss with a few light brushes on her lips.

  He pulled back, staring at her almost in shock, his breathing ragged, their faces still so close. Even in the dark recess of the doorway, Isabel could see his eyes blazing brightly. She touched her inflamed lips with a trembling finger, already missing his touch, and shuddered. He silently urged her to remain quiet, not that she could speak, or move.

  She turned her head then, suddenly alert to noises nearby. Her heart was pounding so fast and so loudly, that she wondered whether anyone could hear it.

  ‘I think someone is coming.’ Isabel was shaking in his arms, but wasn’t certain whether it was from Will’s heart-stopping ki
ss or the fact that Rolleston’s men might be close by.

  His hand went up and down her back, soothing her gently, and his lips rested against her forehead. ‘Hush, Isabel.’

  Was it her imagination that she felt something move against her on the ground? Isabel pulled away slightly. ‘What was that?’ she murmured quietly. ‘There’s something at my feet...oh, God Will, is it a rat?’

  ‘No,’ he said hoarsely against her forehead. ‘It’s a small dog, sniffing around for food. Easy now.’

  ‘Oh...’ she said with the faintest of whispers.

  There were soft footsteps treading back along the pathway that came to a halt, somewhere nearby, it seemed, to where they were hidden in the wide doorway. Isabel covered her mouth with her own hand to stop from making even the slightest noise. Her eyes widened as she looked up at Will in silent question, wondering what on earth they would do if they were discovered. Whatever it was, though, Isabel had total faith in this man who held her, protected her, against any adversary who wished them harm.

  But it never came to pass, as the little dog scampering about their feet started to bark, relentlessly making whoever had been there to walk away. After a long moment, Isabel exhaled in relief. She crouched down and fetched a few scraps of dried meat from her satchel, holding them out in her hands.

  ‘Thank you for your help, little one,’ she said, patting the small dog. It wolfed down the food eagerly and tilted its head as if studying her, panting with its tongue hanging out, wagging its tail.

  ‘I believe you’ve made a friend there.’ Will poked his head out of the doorway and looked in both directions.

  ‘It would seem so,’ she said, blinking as she walked out of the dark doorway, her heart still pounding after everything that had just happened.

  ‘Come.’ Will grabbed her hand, rushing in long strides down the path. ‘Time to go.’

  * * *

  It had grown dark. Thankfully, Will and Isabel had not encountered Rolleston’s men, but they were still vigilant as they made their way through the cobbled maze of La Rochelle with the small black and white dog in tow. They skirted around the gleaming white Vauclair Castle and down one street and then another, eventually walking down a quiet road that led to a large, yet inconspicuous grey building. It seemed incredible to believe that this was the main headquarters of the Templars.

  The ordinary exterior looking out on the road was a far cry from the inner sanctity of the Cour de la Commanderie that somehow seemed to emanate great power and wealth despite being shrouded under a hidden façade. Isabel couldn’t help but gasp as they were admitted from a dark hall that opened out on to a courtyard with the emblem of the Templars Cross emblazoned in the centre using muted coloured mosaics. They walked through a cloistered walkway that edged the courtyard and were taken into a small chamber to wait for the Templar Knight Father Gregor had recommended that they meet.

  Will paced the room restlessly with his hands behind his back, unable to meet her gaze. She watched him with growing impatience. ‘Is anything the matter?’

  ‘Nothing, my lady.’ He stopped and flicked his brooding gaze at her for the first time since they had left the dark doorway—since the kiss.

  Ah... She closed her eyes momentarily realising that it was the was kiss itself that troubled him. ‘

  ‘That is to say, Lady Isabel, that...well, I must offer my apolog—’

  ‘Don’t you dare apologise for the kiss, Will. I shall not allow, or accept, it!’

  He baulked, running his hands through his hair. ‘But I took advantage of the situation we were in and—’

  She tilted her head high and straightened her spine. ‘You did no such thing! I’d say that it was a very fine, very acceptable kiss, but when all is said and done, it was just a kiss.’

  He spun on his heel to face her. ‘What do you mean just a kiss?’

  She shrugged. ‘I admit that I’m not a great connoisseur of such things, but let’s not make too much of it, shall we?’

  Will regarded her with an incredulous look, as if he were insulted by her nonchalance. But she would rather die a thousand deaths than admit how his earth-shattering kiss had affected her to the core.

  ‘In truth, it was rather a delightful diversion, while we threw Rolleston’s men off our scent,’ she embellished.

  She felt a twinge of pain, uttering such ridiculous lies. But Isabel knew that it was better to utter such falsehoods than admit her growing feelings for Will when nothing could ever come of it. Some lies were necessary, especially when it safeguarded her heart.

  ‘Is that so?’ Will stared at her with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

  ‘Yes...well done for thinking of it.’

  Will arched a brow. ‘I’m glad to be of service.’

  ‘Oh, the pleasure was all mine.’

  Just then the door creaked open, admitting an elderly man wearing a plain tunic with a long white surcoat over it. He looked reserved as he nodded at Will and then widened his eyes when he turned to Isabel, realising that a woman had entered the hallowed domain of the Templars.

  William pushed forward and inclined his head briefly. ‘Sir Phillippe de Sens, we’re happy to make your acquaintance. Please allow me to introduce Lady Isabel de Clancey.’

  ‘My lady.’ The old man bowed as he turned on his heel to face Will. ‘This is most irregular, Sir William Geraint. You must know that women are not permitted within these walls, even esteemed ladies, such as Lady de Clancey—posing, I see, as a young man.’

  ‘We apologise for our shortcomings, Sir Phillippe, and we mean no offence by flouting your rules,’ Will said. ‘But we had to meet you as a matter of great urgency and, as explained to your man earlier, you were highly recommended by Father Gregor de Savinien.’ Will held out the vellum. ‘There is something that we need your aid with.’

  The old man looked from one to the other, ready in his protest, but it seemed Will had piqued his interest. ‘Oh, and what has Gregor requested from me this time?’

  ‘This is our request, not his,’ Will said. ‘We need your help to decipher the meaning of this, if you would care to take a look.’

  The older man regarded Will with indignance before taking the vellum reluctantly. But as his eyes scanned the contents, they became wary, if not agitated. ‘Where did you get this, Sir William?’

  ‘That’s of no importance, Sir Phillipe. What we are seeking is the meaning behind it all. Can you help us?’

  The old man flicked his gaze from Will to Isabel and rubbed his pointy chin, seemingly weighing up something. Isabel had the distinct feeling that the old man was holding back, wondering whether he should disclose whatever it was that he knew.

  ‘Please, Sir Phillippe, this is of great importance to me and my family,’ she murmured. ‘We would recompense you for your troubles.’

  ‘If what I believe this vellum alludes to is true,’ the old man whispered more to himself than either Will nor Isabel, ‘it is not something that can be measured by anything of earthly value.’

  ‘I don’t understand, sir, what do you mean?’ Isabel’s brows furrowed in confusion. ‘What can it be measured in, then?’

  The old man opened his mouth to say something, when suddenly they heard a noise from outside the chamber, startling them.

  Phillippe de Sens turned and faced Isabel, bridled with a new urgency. ‘Not here, my lady,’ he whispered. ‘Leave the vellum with me for a closer look, then we can rendezvous elsewhere and discuss everything in due course.’

  ‘Sir Phillipe,’ Will said, shaking his head. ‘That is not a good idea. Even now we compromise our safety being here.’

  ‘As you compromise mine,’ he retorted, before rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, it’s all I can offer you.’

  Isabel gave Will a pleading look as he acquiesced. ‘Very well, where do you want to meet?’

&
nbsp; ‘As well as my work here, I’m the Sergeant at the Tour de la Lanterne, by the port. Do you know it?’

  ‘I do. When can we meet you?’

  The old man lifted his head. ‘The Compline prayers are the last of the day with the resounding ring of church bells as a reminder,’ he said, tapping his fingers together in contemplation. ‘I will unlock the Tower to let you in just after that.’

  After a moment Will sighed and made a single nod. ‘Very well, we shall see you there later tonight.’

  ‘Until later, Sir William,’ The old man inclined his head. ‘My lady.’

  He waited patiently as the two young people left the chamber and exhaled in relief. Slowly he approached the hearth and stood over it, staring at the fire before throwing the piece of vellum into it. He watched as the flames licked around the edges, making it twist and curl on itself, emitting a rancid black smoke. Once he was satisfied that the vellum was destroyed, he left the chamber.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hell’s teeth!

  The whole damn evening was proving far more perilous then Will had first anticipated and now they had to wait undetected until they could meet Phillippe de Sens later. It was already difficult to navigate the town without alerting their presence to Rolleston’s men, but he had little choice in the matter. And while they waited, he had time to reflect on the fact that he had finally given into his baser instinct and kissed Isabel—thoroughly.

  Initially, it had been a way to ease Isabel’s anxiousness, but it hadn’t taken long before it changed into something very different entirely.

  Damn!

  His whole body had come alive with need and desperate longing, pressed against her glorious curves as he tasted her lips, learning the softness of her mouth. Even now, the after-effects hummed through his body. He groaned inwardly at his foolishness.

  He wanted Isabel with such intensity that it made his head spin. Yet he shouldn’t want her and certainly couldn’t have her. And although he had had a momentary lapse earlier, he must take care not to succumb to his desires again.