To Tempt a Knight

by Gerri Russell

  “I felt I had no choice.” Her words sounded tortured.

  A familiar sting pierced his pride. “I gave you no choice. I understand that.”

  “I am sorry that I disappointed you. I made a bad decision. One I wouldn’t make again if given the opportunity.”

  He gently caressed her cheek with the back of his finger. “Life isn’t always filled with decisions or moments that are simply good or bad, black or white. It’s in the shades of gray where most of us live, Siobhan.”

  His mind moved back to the battlefield at Teba. It had been a massacre. There had been no hope for any of them to survive, and yet some of them had done just that. They’d defied the odds and lived.

  He’d never been happier about his survival than he was at this moment. He brought her body back against his chest. His heart beat firmly against his chest, and in some mysterious way through him and into her, as though they were one. She was part of him. He was part of her.

  They were together in this moment because he had survived. And they hadn’t gone through all the struggles and traumas of their lives just to have it end in defeat. “We’ll get the Spear back and save your father,” William said.

  The light of dawn began to press against the darkness, painting the world around them in hazy shades of gray and pink. In the distance he could see the outline of a man and horse riding along the cliff that dropped into the water far below.

  A feeling of unease passed over him. He recognized those cliffs. He recognized the ocean beyond. “I’ve been here before,” he said.

  Siobhan straightened in his arms.

  “Something is amiss.”

  “What?” she asked.

  William slowed the horse, then pulled him to a stop as a large fortress came into view. A muscle in his jaw tensed.

  “A castle.” Siobhan’s voice was laced with confusion.

  “Not just any castle.” William’s heart pounded as anger and shock took root inside him, growing to colossal proportions. “The castle my uncle stole from my father and me.”

  Siobhan gasped.

  In that moment, William knew to the depths of his soul that his uncle was responsible for de la Roche’s presence in Scotland. He also realized his uncle had encouraged de la Roche’s attack on the Templars in an effort to keep William from going after what had been stolen from him as a child.

  But William was no longer a child. He was an adult with resources at his disposal. “My uncle and de la Roche are in this together.” As the sun started to rise, William gazed upon the home he’d been forced to flee.

  The castle was perched on a spit of land thrusting into the Atlantic Ocean. Its tall, stark fortress walls rose sheer from the edge of a bluff, and the cold, gray stone facings presented a monstrous and deadly fortification incongruously nestled in a setting that looked almost idyllic—though William’s uncle had seen to it that his memories were less than idyllic. The castle itself consisted of four round war towers capped with turrets. The inner rooms were long, and carefully designed to fit one upon the other in staggered tiers. Rounding the whole were crenellated battlements where the sentries could see the terrain in all directions.

  The castle was approached along a well-packed road of earth and stone that seemed to go on forever. De la Roche traveled upon that path now. He rode furiously to the entrance of the castle, to the gates set between two enormous barbican towers, and vanished inside. The clang of a heavy iron portcullis sounded in the morning air.

  “What do we do now?” Siobhan asked, turning to face him. “We can’t breech those walls without help.”

  “We’ll have help.” William gazed down at the woman in his arms. She looked tired, her dress was shredded and splotches of blood stained the fabric from hem to bodice. She hadn’t eaten or slept for nearly two days. Even so, determination shone in her eyes.

  “I’ll do whatever you need of me,” she said.

  He leaned forward and kissed her lips. She responded instantly, softening beneath him. He drew in the sweet, honeyed scent of her, taking it into himself, using it to soothe his emotions and bolster his resolve. “Since we now know where de la Roche and presumably your father are, we must go for help.”

  Siobhan nodded. “Then let us go.”

  “You don’t wish to rest a while?” They had been riding for the better part of the night.

  “I couldn’t sleep now if I tried.”

  William smiled. “Then we ride for the monastery.”

  At nightfall they reached the monastery. The journey had taken some time because of the need to rest the horse. William had walked at times, allowing Ares a break from carrying two riders. And after a full day on horseback, Siobhan struggled to keep her head up, so great was her exhaustion.

  The wooden gates of the monastery flew open at their approach. Brother Kenneth rushed out to greet them. “Praise the saints,” he said as he helped Siobhan to dismount. “I had feared for both your lives when Brother Lucius returned and told us what had transpired.”

  “We are safe,” William said, coming to stand beside her.

  Brother Kenneth frowned as he took in their tattered and bloody clothing. “What has happened?”

  “De la Roche has the Spear and Sir John, two things that will soon change. But for now, Siobhan and I need a good soak and a hot meal.” With a hand on the base of her back, William guided her into the monastery and down a long hall.

  “Where are you going, William? Shouldn’t you be heading for the dormitory?” Brother Kenneth followed behind.

  “We go to the baths.”

  “You cannot take her there.”

  William stopped. He turned to face Brother Kenneth, his gaze hard. “I can. I will. Her skin is torn and bleeding. The baths will help.”

  “But they are only for Templars,” Brother Kenneth said, shrinking back from the anger that radiated from William.

  Siobhan placed her hand on his arm. “It’s all right. I can use a washbasin.”

  William ignored her. “She is the daughter of the Keeper of the Holy Relics. That gives her access, does it not?”

  “She’s female.” The abbot’s eyes went wide.

  William’s frown turned dark. “And God does not accept females in the holy waters?”

  “William,” the abbot pleaded. “You know it’s not done.”

  “Everything changes. Perhaps it’s time for the baths to change as well.” William turned back around, encouraging her to do the same. They stopped in front of an overly large wooden door carved with the face of Christ in the center, his hand raised in blessing, surrounded by alternating rows of five-pointed stars and roses.

  William pushed the ornate door aside to reveal a large room with a black and white mosaic floor. He waved her inside. “This is the changing room.”

  He stepped into the chamber. He pointed toward a set of stairs off to the right of the door. “Down there is the cleansing pool. You need to start there. The waters there will cleanse the impurities from your body.”

  Siobhan peeked down the stairs to see a round, white marble bath at the base of the stairs.

  “After you finish cleansing, you will pass through the warm room to the calidarium, the hot bath. Once you feel relaxed proceed to the frigidarium, or the cool bath.” He handed her a long length of linen. “Dress yourself in this between each bath.”

  Offering her his arm, he guided her to the changing room. “Stay in the cool bath as long as you can tolerate it. The healing waters will help your wounds.” He released her arm.

  “William, I—”

  “I’ll meet you when you are done.” Before she could stop him, he vanished into the inner rooms of the bath.

  Siobhan pressed her lips together as she looked around the beautiful chamber. Blue and green and yellow mosaic tiles lined the floors and walls, bringing a sense of peace to the chamber.

  She looked down at the brownish red blood on her gown and reached for the ties. The sooner she cleansed the memories of today’s events from her mind a
nd body, the better. She dropped the gown on the floor, then wrapped the linen around her body and headed down the stairs to the cleansing bath.

  Siobhan proceeded through the rooms, taking time to relax in each of the baths. In the hot bath, wisps of steam floated up around her. The pleasant heat brought her out of her exhausted lethargy. Her body tingled with an awareness that she hadn’t known until William had entered her life. That awareness was longing. A dull ache throbbing between her thighs had nothing to do with any of the abuse she had suffered today. She stood and proceeded to the next bath.

  In the cool bath, her body came fully alive, tingling and throbbing as the waters bathed her flesh. A sense of sacred calm descended over her. By the time she stepped from the cool waters, not only did she feel refreshed, but her muscles no longer ached. The red welts that marred her skin had grown angrier at first, but were already fading. And the deep gashes upon her body no longer pained her in any way.

  William had mentioned holy waters. Had the baths helped to heal her in some way? Would he use them as well? The thought had barely materialized when William appeared behind her draped in a sheet of linen much like hers. He had followed her through the cycle of the baths.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Much.”

  “Then allow me.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the room and down the long hallway.

  At the end of the hall he stopped and pushed the wood door open with his foot. He stepped into a small chamber like the one she had inhabited earlier, then set her on a small cot. He tucked a woolen blanket around her. “I apologize for the lack of clothing. I have sent one of the brothers to the nearest town to find a woman who will part with one of her gowns for your use. Until then…”

  She reached up and touched his cheek, which no longer bore the red welts that had marred it earlier. “What magic did those waters contain to take away the pain and evidence of what we endured today?”

  “No magic.” He reached down and smoothed the damp strands of her hair away from her cheek. “It is faith alone that heals us. Sleep now. I’ll be in the chamber across from yours, should you need me.” He turned to leave.

  “William?”

  He turned back to her, and she could see tension in his face and desire flaring in his eyes. “Aye?”

  “Thank you.”

  His gaze traveled over her wet, tousled hair, her bare shoulders, to her body hidden beneath the heavy wool. “I must go, Siobhan, or something that should not happen in a monastery will happen here this night.”

  At the heat in his eyes an answering warmth flared within her. Her body tingled, throbbed—not from the effects of the baths, but from the look in his eyes that said he wanted to consume her. She bit down on her lip to keep from calling him back.

  William returned to his chamber and quickly pulled on a fresh linen shirt, breeches and his boots. Once dressed, he strode down the hallway in the opposite direction from Siobhan’s chamber. He had to move away from the temptation she posed—from his own desire—until he could get himself back in control.

  He proceeded to the chapel and forced himself to slow his steps as he made his way to the altar. At the stairs of the dais, he fell to his knees before the crucifix that hung upon the wall. He allowed the burden of what he’d done, of what he’d turned away from, to swamp him.

  Many years ago he’d knelt in this same place, filled with purpose and determination to change the world, to right the wrongs that he saw all around him.

  But something had changed. He had changed. His ideals had taken the lives of so many others that he loved. Could he sacrifice any more and still remain whole?

  He stared up at the image upon the cross. “My vows to you, Lord, were the reason I lived for so long. You protected me in my childhood and as a warrior. But now I find myself pulled in another direction. I feel as though you are guiding me to another purpose, that I can serve Your will more fully by protecting Siobhan from those who would seek her knowledge of the treasure.”

  He dropped his gaze to the hands he held folded in front of him. “My loyalty, my life, will always be yours, Lord, but my heart calls me to another path. Please give me the strength to do what must be done.” Crossing himself, he rose.

  He turned to find Brother Kenneth standing ten paces behind him. The man offered William a gentle smile. “As you stated earlier, things change. Change can be good.”

  “That wasn’t meant for your ears.”

  “My ears are God’s ears,” Brother Kenneth replied.

  William frowned. “My path in life calls me in a different direction.”

  “As it should. You came to us as a boy, William. I’ve often wondered if you chose this life with us because it was before you. That’s why I forced you to go away as a young man, to go to the king’s court, to find who you truly were. When you met the Bruce and became his guardsman as a Templar, I knew your heart was in your commitment, but still something of your soul was missing from your choice. I could see it in your eyes every time you looked at me.”

  Brother Kenneth came to stand before him, searching his face, his eyes. “That emptiness is gone, William. Lady Siobhan is the reason.”

  With a fatherly smile he said, “There are many sacraments in this world. Service as a lay monk, to your faith, as a Templar, is only one of those sacraments. Love and marriage are another expression of the sacrament made flesh.”

  William paused, considering his brother’s words. He placed a hand on Brother Kenneth’s shoulder. “What a wise man you are. My thanks.”

  He nodded his head toward the door. “Go to her, with my blessing.”

  William didn’t hesitate. He hastened for the door, then down the hallway. At Siobhan’s door he tapped softly. The door eased open. He pushed it farther. Siobhan was nowhere inside the small chamber.

  His heart stumbled, until he reminded himself she was safe within the walls of the monastery. Making his way through the refectory first, he proceeded outside. He found her in the garden, sitting upon a bench, staring off into the darkness.

  “When you weren’t in your chamber, I knew I would find you here.” A midnight breeze brought with it the scent of heather from the hills beyond.

  Siobhan had found and donned an unattended cloak on her way out and now wrapped it closer about her body as he sat down beside her. She stared at him uncertainly. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  He nodded and passed her one of the two apples he’d picked up on his way through the refectory.

  “My thanks.” She bit into the sweet, crisp flesh. He did the same. When they finished, he brought a finger up to her lips to wipe a wayward drop of juice from the corner of her mouth.

  Her eyes drifted closed. She leaned into his touch. He pulled her into his arms as naturally as if he’d done it a thousand times before. He nestled against her, drowning in the feel of her warmth, the sweet scent of her hair, her skin.

  He pulled back. Their eyes met. “I asked you to come to me if you needed me, ma chère. But I find it is I who needs you.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Siobhan couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t look away from William’s eyes. In their depths she saw a vulnerable man who had survived a hellish childhood and the horrors of war. He had emerged strong and vital, yet remained on his guard about risking his heart to any further damage.

  “Siobhan?” He stroked her cheek, tracing a line down to her throat.

  A primal shudder went through her. She raised both arms and curled them around his neck, then brought her lips to his, pressing her breasts against his chest.

  Desire flared in his eyes as he returned her kiss with a passion that engulfed them both. He lifted her in his arms, then stood, carrying her toward the stable. Inside the door he set her down. With hands far steadier than her own, he saddled Phantom. When he was done, he lifted her into the saddle and mounted behind her. With a flick of the reins, they left the stable and rode through the monastery gates.

  A nearly full moon c
ast a silvery glow across the land, casting the world around them in shades of black and gray. The shrubs that had looked friendly in the daylight were now stark and menacing. Yet Siobhan did not feel unease, not with William’s arms around her. “Where are we going?” she asked, leaning back against William’s chest.

  “A special place, where we’ll be free to do as we desire.”

  They rode in silence for a distance until he brought Phantom to a halt at a copse of trees. William dismounted and tied his horse’s reins loosely to a bush. He plucked her out of the saddle and carried her across a grassy area to a small stone cottage with a thatched roof. He kicked the door aside and carried her into the single room.

  The musty smell of dust greeted them, and cobwebs hung from every corner. He batted them away and proceeded across the room to a small wooden bed. He set her gently down on the dusty quilted bed linens. “I apologize for the chill, and the state of dilapidation. I haven’t been here in quite a while.”

  “You said this was a special place. Why?”

  “I used to come here when I needed to escape the rigidity of the monastery. Brother Kenneth knew about it. He encouraged me to come, to discover who I was truly meant to be.”

  “Did you?” She reached up and stroked the length of his arm, pausing as she came to the cuts left behind by the whip.

  “I thought I’d found myself. Now, I am not so certain.”

  “What is it that you want?” Siobhan asked.

  He stared down at her, the line of his cheeks hollow with tension. “I won’t lie to you. In my head, I’m still confused as to what I want. But in my heart I know. I want to experience your sweetness, to take you into myself, to lay beside you in this bed.”

  “Bed of cushions or bed of leaves, it matters not to me.” She offered him a smile that faded a moment later. Before they went any further, she had to ask him the question that burned inside her. “Have you truly forgiven me, William?” Tears blurred her vision, and there was a thick twisted knot in her throat. “I betrayed you.”

  William said nothing as he studied her face.