Grace released his arm and entered one of the pews in the back and sat.
She wasn’t praying. Interesting. He had thought she would. It wasn’t his to say. William moved forward. It had been a long time since he had been here. The ceiling stretched far above his head. The same statue of St. Peter that had stared down at him in disapproval, still stared down at him with the same disapproval. It seemed nothing had changed. Nothing except him. He stopped in the middle of the aisle, before the altar and fell to his knees. It mattered not that the ground was cold and hard. It was not even close to the punishment he deserved. After he had given his devotion, he stood, expecting an explosion of thunder or the walls to bleed.
From deeper in the church, a voice called, “William! Boy, is that you?”
Father John appeared from the rear of the altar, hobbling toward him. He was not the man William remembered. He had aged heavily since the last time William had seen him. He used the pews as support to approach. William moved forward to greet him. He held out his hand.
Father John grabbed his arm and yanked him into a tight embrace. “Boy, it is good to see you.”
“And you, Father,” William said, relaxing in the old man’s hold. His past returned in the father’s arms. For a moment, it was as if he had never left. He was transported to the boy he had been. A mischievous youngster, he used to play tricks on Father John whenever he got a chance. Usually, moving items around on the altar when he wasn’t looking. He suspected Father John knew who was doing it, but the father never gave up the belief that it was the Holy Spirit.
William pulled back to look at him. One eye was glossy white. Wrinkles lined his face. Most of his hair was gone and the remainder had turned white. But, his smile was genuine. “How are things, Father?”
“Nothing ever changes in Bovey Tracey,” Father John said.
William had to smile at that. He had noticed differences in the town that made him feel like a stranger. “Is Ralph in residence?”
“No. Not for years. Steward Thomas is here.”
William nodded. He had never met Steward Thomas. “Can you get a message to Lord Alan for me?”
“Lord Alan?” Father John pondered the question with a scowl, glancing at Grace in the rear of the church. “Yes. Yes. I could have the blacksmith’s son run a message to Willoughby Castle. Get me the message when you can.”
“The blacksmith’s son?” William ran a hand of disbelief through his hair. “I can’t believe any woman would have the patience to deal with Bruno.”
“She’s an angel, that’s for sure!”
William laughed and lay a hand on Father John’s shoulder. “I’ll have Luke run it over to you later today. Luke is still here, isn’t he?”
Father John scowled and pursed his lips. “He reminds me of you when you were young. Headstrong and disobedient.”
“Me?” William asked in disbelief. “I was always the ideal student.”
Father John’s roar of laughter shook the church.
It was the laugh William remembered. He was home. And he had missed Father John who had always been a friend to him.
Slowly, his laughter faded and Father John elbowed him. “Who is she?” He indicated Grace with a jerk of his chin.
William glanced at Grace where she sat in the pew looking at the rafters and the statues in the church. Her hair hung around her shoulders in a disarray of gold. Her brows lifted up as she inspected the building. “Lady Grace of Willoughby,” William answered. “Come. I will introduce you.”
Father John nodded and followed William down the aisle. “Emily will be delighted to see you.”
“Emily?”
“Your cousin Emily is here for a week. I’m sure you’ll be happy about that.”
William detected a note of wry humor in his tone. Emily. He hadn’t seen her for years, but what he remembered was a bubbly young girl, full of life. She always managed to draw him into her world, as he was her favorite cousin. As William approached Grace, she stood up. He took her hand, gathering her to his side. “Lady Grace, this is Father John.”
Father John bowed his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Grace.”
“And you, Father John,” Grace said with a smile. “How long have you known William?”
Father John rumbled with a laugh. “Since the dawn of time.”
“I didn’t know he was that old.”
“When you have time, I will tell you some stories about William. He wasn’t always such an outstanding man.”
William groaned softly. No, he hadn’t always been good. He dreaded, good-naturedly, the stories Father John would tell.
“I would love it,” Grace admitted.
“How long are you staying?” Father John asked.
“I don’t know,” William admitted.
Father John placed his hands on William’s shoulders. “It is always good to see you, boy.” He embraced him tightly.
William was startled at first, but then returned the hug warmly.
Father John released William and looked at Grace. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Grace.”
William led Grace from the church. He took Hellfire’s reins and glanced at Grace. She was looking up at the top of the church. William followed her gaze.
She pointed upward.
William stared at the sky and then at the top of the church. It was a single small tower, the same as he remembered from his childhood. “I don’t see anything.”
“The church spire is leaning.”
At last William saw what she was looking at. It was true, the top of the point was leaning westward. “So it is.”
“It should be fixed.”
“Aye,” William agreed. “It should be.” He took her hand and led her toward the manor home.
They were greeted and welcomed by Steward Thomas. He was a tall man, very thin. He put off a capable and responsible demeanor. As he led them inside the manor home and down a corridor, he spoke with William about the tallies and the harvest. William half listened. He cast a sideways glance at Grace to see her gazing at the tapestries hanging on the walls. He followed her gaze, unimpressed by the representations of the coronation of King William she was staring at. He supposed he had never paid them much attention, but Grace seemed fascinated by each one.
“William!”
William turned at the familiar voice to find Emily racing toward them. Her blonde hair hung in perfect ringlets; her green kirtle swung about her legs as she moved forward. She was no longer the child he remembered.
She stopped just before him, a scowl on her brow. “Did you think to sneak home without greeting me?”
He recognized her play-angry ploy immediately. Apparently, she hadn’t grown up all that much. He dropped his chin. “How could I do that?” He opened his arms and she jumped into them, wrapping her hands around him. He squeezed her and placed a hearty kiss on her cheek.
Emily pulled back to gaze into William’s eyes. Her bright brown orbs shone with joy as she stared at him. “You’d best not,” she warned. “I would be devastated.”
William indicated Grace. “This is Lady Grace of Willoughby Castle. Grace, this is my cousin, Emily.”
Emily turned to Grace, and after a quick perusal, her face lit with excitement. “How wonderful to meet you!”
William had no doubt that Emily would relish having another female in the manor home to gossip with. “We shan’t be here long, Em,” William warned. “I am escorting Lady Grace home to Willoughby Castle.”
“Oh pshh,” Emily murmured, waving him off. “Lady Grace shall stay as long as she wants!” She clasped Grace’s arm tightly. “We are going to be the very best of friends, I can tell!”
William was pleased to see the grin on Grace’s lips. He shrugged helplessly as Emily pulled Grace down the hallway. He wasn’t at all certain whether this alliance was going to be good for him or bad.
CHAPTER 13
Upon Emily’s insistence, Steward Thomas gave Grace the room next to her. William was ac
ross the hall from them. He was glad to see Emily again. He retired to his room to change his dusty riding clothes. He began to lift his tunic over his head when Emily rushed into his room. William cast her a wry look as he pulled his tunic back into place. “Ever the same, I see.”
Emily chuckled and threw herself onto the bed. “Who is she? She is absolutely lovely.”
William had to agree. Grace was beautiful. But he would never admit that to Emily. She had a way of interfering. He walked to the bed where his bags and belt lay. “I introduced you.”
Emily peered at him through squinted eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”
William sighed. He knew she would find out eventually. She would simply ask him and Grace repeatedly until one of them couldn’t stand it a moment longer and told her. He would never subject Grace to Emily’s annoying persistence. He loved Emily, but she could be like a gnat infesting a wound. He turned to look at her. She lay across the bed, resting her chin on the palms of her hands, gazing at him with a smirk. Her brown eyes twinkled. “You already know, don’t you?” he asked.
She teetered a small laugh. “Of course! You can’t let her get away.” She rolled onto her back, her arms outstretched, staring at the ceiling. “Oh, William! A chance at a normal life for you. Children!”
William took a deep breath and sat beside her. A normal life. He could never have a normal life. Not him. “She doesn’t want to marry me.”
Emily gasped and sat up. “She must not know you! Any woman would be lucky to have you as a husband.”
“Not every woman sees it that way,” he said quietly.
Emily took his hand into her own. “God has forgiven you. You must forgive yourself. Perhaps this is a new start --”
William pulled his hand free of her hold. “There is no forgiveness for me.”
“You mustn’t talk like that, William,” Emily said softly. “There is forgiveness for everyone.”
“Everyone doesn’t murder the archbishop.”
Emily sighed softly. “It wasn’t your idea.” She caught his hand again and clasped it tightly. “These are not the hands of a murderer.”
“I didn’t finish him, but I was a part of it. Don’t make light of it, Em. I’m as guilty as the rest.”
“Maybe Lady Grace was sent to you as a sign of forgiveness.”
William shrugged. “Regardless. I won’t force her to marry me. I’ve given my word to help her escape the betrothal.”
Emily cocked her head to the side and her eyes twinkled in that familiar way. She was up to something. “We’ll just see about that.”
“Emily,” William growled in a warning tone. “I don’t want you to get involved in this. This is between me and Grace.”
“Of course!” Emily protested and stood. “When have I ever become involved in one of your affairs?”
“When haven’t you?” He could count at least five times without thinking about it.
“That was when I was younger. I haven’t seen you in years! Don’t you think I’ve grown up a little bit?”
“You have. In beauty as in years. But that won’t stop you from poking around where you don’t belong.”
Emily leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You are such a charmer! What woman could resist you if you put your mind to it?” She walked to the door. “I shall see you at the evening meal, cousin. Do dress your best.”
William watched as she departed the room. He sighed softly, knowing she would try to get Grace to marry him. She would make matters worse and he would have to clean it up. Just like he did when they were children. He would have to warn Grace about how much Emily loved to meddle in his affairs. But he had to admit, he had missed Emily and it was good to see a family member who still loved him.
Grace sat in a chair as a servant girl braided her hair. She had taken a most welcome bath and had been given a fresh dress to wear. She was grateful for that. She was beginning to think the repugnant odor she was smelling was coming from her. As the servant girl, Anna, combed out her long hair and began to divide it into sections, Grace’s mind wandered. To William. To the way he held her when they were coming into Bovey, to the warmth and safety she felt in his arms. But she had felt safe in Curtis’s arms, too. Her imagination could be getting the best of her. Still, Curtis had never kissed her. At the memory of William’s kiss, her lips tingled. She sucked in her lower lip. She replayed the kiss over in her mind. She had been shocked, of course, but then... Just as she realized what he was doing, just as she felt his lips on hers, felt the caress of his skin, he had pulled away. He had apologized and said he thought she was someone else. Someone else. She scowled and looked down at her hands entwined in her lap. Did he love someone else? She might have accepted that, except for one thing. Hadn’t he said her name right before he kissed her?
Emily suddenly burst into the room, disrupting Grace’s thoughts. She rushed over to her like a little whirlwind and looked her over. “What a lovely blue!” Emily exclaimed about the dress she wore. “It accents your eyes!”
“Thank you,” Grace answered.
“Do her hair up,” Emily told the servant girl, Anna. Anna bobbed her head and began to unbraid Grace's hair. “Are you comfortable here? Have your needs been met?”
“Oh yes!” Grace exclaimed. “Thank you for letting me stay. It’s very kind of you.”
Emily shrugged. “It’s not my place to say. It’s William’s holding.”
Grace nodded. “I shall thank him.”
“What do you think of my cousin?”
Grace glanced at Emily. “Think of him?” she echoed.
“You are betrothed to him.”
“Yes. Well... I think he is kind and strong and...”
“Handsome?” Emily encouraged.
Grace smiled at Emily’s aid. She thought of William’s strong jaw, his aquiline nose, and those eyes... Heat rose in her cheeks until she had to look away. “Yes. He is very handsome.”
“He will make a fine husband, wouldn’t you say?”
Guilt settled over Grace and a solemn mood descended. She had made him promise to help her escape the betrothal. “Yes. I would say that.” He would make a fine husband. A very fine husband. For someone.
“How could any woman resist him?” Emily wondered.
“He’s treated me with only respect.” He had acted the part of a chivalrous knight. Better than Curtis ever had. Except for the kiss. And that kiss... That kiss made her feel alive and then disappointed. He had thought she was someone else. An idea came to her. Perhaps Emily would know who the ‘other’ was that William had spoken of. She looked at Emily. “I think he loves another.”
“William?” Emily laughed but then tried to stifle it. “There has been no one else. In all the years I have known him. No woman has caught his eye.” She moved up to Grace and knelt before her, taking her hands into her own. “Only you.”
“Me?” Grace echoed, shocked. She shook her head. “You are mistaken.”
“You don’t see it?” Emily asked. “The way he looks at you? It is as though the sun rises and sets with you.”
Grace couldn’t believe it. She stared at her dumbfounded. Had she missed it? Or was Emily seeing something that wasn’t there? “It can’t be true.” Because somewhere inside her she wanted it to be true. And no man could ever find happiness with her. Not Curtis. Not her father. Not --
“It is. And you. How do you feel about him?”
Troubled by her questions, Grace stared into Emily’s eyes. She didn’t know how to answer. She’d never felt this way about anyone. Definitely not Curtis. He was more like a brother to her. She and Curtis were only friends. This was different. Every time she looked at William, or thought about his strong physique, his dazzling eyes, she felt a warmth blossom in her heart. A tenderness she had never felt for anyone. She was afraid to voice it. Afraid she would be wrong. Afraid he would reject her.
Emily patted her hand. “You’ll have time, dearest.” She rose and circled her, looking her over. “Perfe
ct.”
Grace stood and thanked Anna. “Shall we get William?”
“William doesn’t dine in the Great Hall,” Emily said.
“Why?” Grace wondered.
Emily frowned and sadness entered her eyes. “People can be cruel.”
Grace nodded softly. Just like she was when she first met William. The immediate hatred and judgment she cast on him had come without thinking, without any effort to bring it forth. It was just there inside of her. She waited until Anna left the room before asking Emily, “Did he really do it? Did he really kill the archbishop?”
Emily cupped her cheek. “That is something you will have to ask him.” She slowly dropped her hand in thought. “Perhaps he would dine with us if you asked him.”
Grace stepped back, shaking her head vehemently. “I don’t know what I would do if someone was cruel to him.”
Emily clasped her hands tightly. “Ask him.”
Emily had promised to meet her at the evening meal. She had said she needed to prepare a few things, but Grace had a suspicion Emily only wanted to give Grace time alone with William. It was something Grace would not argue with her about. She enjoyed the moments she and William spent alone together. She moved into the corridor and walked across the hallway to William’s door. She lifted her hand to knock when she heard voices from inside.
“Why? Why did ya kill him? Was he a bad man?” It was a young boy’s voice.
“The king ordered it,” William answered.
There was silence for a long moment. Then the boy said, “Me Mum says yer going ta burn in Hell.”
“I am,” William said softly, confidently.
His statement twisted Grace’s heart.
“But ya did yer penance. Perhaps the Pope will forgive ya.”
“There is no forgiveness for me. Let this be a lesson for you. God comes before king. In all things.”
“Then how come ya killed the archbishop? Didn’t ya know --?”
“I was greedy. I sought to gain the king’s favor.”
A Knight With Grace: Book 1 of the Assassin Knights Series Page 8
