Harlequin Historical February 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Virginia Heath

  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?’

  ‘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!
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  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.

  It wouldn’t be fair to Isabel or to himself.

  He smiled absently at Isabel’s aloofness and her detached tone earlier when he had wanted to apologise. She had tried to make nothing of it, even though they both knew differently. The truth was that, however unwise it had been kissing Isabel, he could not regret it. Yet Will had to make sure that it never happened again.

  He sighed as he glanced at Isabel who was crouched low, feeding the scruffy little dog that had attached himself to her. ‘If you keep feeding the little scamp, we’re never going to get rid of him.’

  ‘Ah but he’s hungry and lost, Will,’ she said, patting him. ‘And after the way he helped us earlier I feel a sense of gratitude towards him.’

  ‘For all you know it may be totally infested with fleas.’

  ‘I’ve already checked and, no, he isn’t.’ She picked up the dog by its front paws. ‘Yes, that’s right…who’s a good boy? Now, what are we going to call you?’

  ‘Oh, good grief!’ Will muttered, shaking his head. ‘Come, we must keep moving.’

  ‘What about Rochelais, since you came upon us here? But, no, I think not.’ She tapped her fingertips together. ‘Like me, little one, you could have come from somewhere entirely different, belonging nowhere and to no one in particular.’

  Will’s throat constricted tightly at Isabel’s pensive words, revealing much about how she still felt.

  ‘What about Perdu?’ she said and the dog barked, wagging its tail enthusiastically. ‘Very well, Perdu it is and I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.’ She gave dog another scrap of food before standing up and meeting Will’s bemused gaze at calling the dog…‘Lost’. She no doubt hoped the little mite might someday be found.

  They continued walking side by side in silence, with the little dog following behind.

  Will flicked her a quick glance. ‘Isabel, about what we were discussing—I just want to say that, although I was going to apologise earlier, I’m not sorry I kissed you.’ He could see a flush rise on her neck and cheeks.

  ‘And as I said before, it was a good ruse,’ she said shrugging, as though she were describing something inconsequential.

  ‘It may have been initially, but it certainly didn’t end that way.’

  ‘If you’re trying to say that you enjoyed it, Will, then let’s say that I did as well and leave it at that.’

  He stopped in his tracks abruptly. ‘You’re right. I did.’ He dragged his fingers through his hair before continuing. ‘But nothing could ever come of it, Isabel.’

  ‘I didn’t say anything would.’ She straightened her spine and continued to walk away. Will watched her as a dull ache spread in his chest. He shook his head and caught up with her.

  They descended into a silence which Isabel broke, eventually.

  ‘Do you not think it strange that Rolleston’s men seem to have disappeared?’

  He threw a glance behind them before turning around. ‘Yes, but then we never did actually see any of them.’

  ‘What of the men who were following us and the pock-faced man you thought you saw?’

  He nodded. ‘I believe I did.’

  ‘Good, because if you didn’t, you kissed me under false pretences, William Geraint,’ she said in feigned outrage.

  A slow smile spread on his lips. ‘But you forget—I am a rogue knight after all.’

  ‘And there I was, thinking that you had gallantry and valour coursing through your veins.’

  ‘No, those epithets belong to another.’ He chuckled softly. ‘In all seriousness, though, I do believe it was his men, Isabel.’

  ‘Yet they seemed to have disappeared—’ she clicked her fingers ‘—just like that.’

  ‘Yes,’ he muttered, glad of the change of their discourse. ‘But we be must be ready for any eventuality.’

  ‘As always, Will. As always.’

  He smiled despite himself. If anyone had courage and bravery coursing through their veins it was the beautiful woman by his side who was warm, witty and intelligent, as well.

  Just then the church bells tolled, reminding them both of why they had been aimlessly ambling through the myriad of backstreets. Soon they’d meet with the old Templar Knight and find out whether he had the information they sought.

  * * *

  They made their way to the agreed meeting place, bringing them directly to the port side closest to the Tour de la Lanterne, a tall, grey, singular tower built only a handful of years before with crenulations around the edge topped with a steep conical spire.

  The port was deserted by the time Will and Isabel grappled with the iron gate of the tower. It led to the heavy wooden door that had been left open, as Phillippe de Sens had promised. They slowly crept up the dank, spiral staircase, taking care not to misstep on the jagged, uneven stones as they made their way up. Streaks of moonlight poured through a few small square windows, providing the only source of light. An eerie, ominous undertone hung in the air. Catching his breath as they made their way to the top, Will pushed open the creaky wooden door with a foreboding sense of uneasiness. The hairs on the back of his arms rose. Something was very wrong here.

  He entered the room slowly, with Isabel behind and the little dog pushing through to the front. Their four-legged friend began to sniff the wooden floor before beginning to bark and growl at something behind the door.

  Everything happened quickly then. Will pushed Isabel behind him and stepped forward just as someone leapt from behind the door, ready to attack, jabbing a weapon in the air. His attack would have been devastating had it not been for the little dog, who had attached himself to the man’s ankle as Will and Isabel darted out of the way. Shaking the animal off, the unknown assailant rushed forward to the doorway, which was now clear, and scrambled out of the chamber. Will was about to follow the man when Isabel called out to him.

  His heart hammered in his chest, drowning out her voice. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘It’s Sir Phillipe de Sens.’ She crouched down beside a man sprawled flat on his back on the floor. ‘He’s been stabbed.’

  Will rushed over to the other side of the circular chamber and crouched down beside the old man, taking note of the blood seeping on to the floor. Gasping for breath, the old man beckoned Will close and whispered his last words to him. They spoke for a short time before the older man pressed two coins into Will’s hand, taking one last gulp of air. Isabel looked on in abject horror as the man went motionless, his eyes half closed.

  ‘Oh, God…oh, God,’ she cried, covering her mouth with a shaking hand. ‘He’s dead, isn’t he? And it’s all my fault.’

  Will knew they had to act fast—they could not stay here. ‘Come, Isabel, we have to go.’

  He practically dragged her out, clambering down the spiral staircase they had climbed only moments ago.

&nbs
p; * * *

  Somehow, they made their way back through the backroads of La Rochelle until they reached Cour de la Commanderie and miraculously they managed to arrive expediently, without notice. Isabel had been glad that Will had taken charge when they were ushered into an antechamber to speak with one of Sir Phillippe’s brethren. She stood still with her back straight, barely taking anything in as Will spoke quietly to the man, informing him of the old Templar’s demise and his last words.

  She vaguely noticed Will present the coins that Sir Phillippe had given him along with the murmur of the secret message to this man—this other Templar Knight—who responded with a single nod. Words and agreements passed between them and before Isabel knew what was happening, they were led through a dark hallway and then into a series of chambers, until they were once again outside, walking through the ornate cloister that led to the chapterhouse. With her hood lowered over her head she walked a little behind Will and the Templar Knight with the little dog, Perdu, beside her.

  Here, they were shown into a small, inconspicuous chamber that held miscellaneous objects and scrolls. Once inside, the Templar Knight, with Will’s help, moved a few bits of the furniture out of the way and rolled up the vibrantly coloured rug, uncovering a trapdoor. Will opened this, revealing a spiral staircase leading to the shadowy darkness beneath.

  Isabel blinked, as though roused from a deep sleep, realising that they were leaving the Templar headquarters differently to the way in which they had arrived.

  ‘We need to go, Isabel.’ Will exchanged a few more words with the Templar Knight and grabbed the flaming torch that he held out for them.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ She frowned. ‘Where are we going now?’

  He held out his hands to her. ‘Come, my lady, I’ll explain on the way.’

  Isabel clasped Will’s hand as he guided them carefully down the slippery spiral staircase. She picked the little dog up and continued to descend further and further down until they reached the bottom. Setting Perdu on the ground, Isabel darted her gaze all around in surprise with what she saw—a large and well-constructed secret tunnel, complete with metal sconces holding unlit torches.