The Splendid Hour: The Executioner Knights Book 7

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “What problem?”

  “The jeweler’s daughter.”

  Agnes came over to the bed with the compress in her hand, frowning at him. “She is not his problem, she is my problem.”

  Walter snatched the compress from her. “Peter’s attention is not on you because he has the jeweler’s daughter to occupy his time,” he said. “If we send her away, then there is no more problem. We can return his focus in your direction.”

  “How are you going to send her away?”

  Walter tried to sit up but with his broken ribs, it was nearly impossible. He finally shouted at Agnes to help him and she did, pulling him into a sitting position as he grunted and groaned and bled from the mouth. He sat there a moment, eyes closed, holding that compress against his lips until he was able to speak again.

  “I need a scribe,” he rasped. “Someone who can write a missive for me to be delivered to the king at Westminster. Find me a scribe immediately.”

  Agnes wasn’t sure what he wanted to send to the king, but she hoped it had something to do with the jeweler’s daughter. She was more than willing to help him.

  “I can write,” she reminded him. “Tell me what you want to say and I shall write it down.”

  “Good,” Walter said quickly. “Find vellum and ink. We are going to send a missive to the king.”

  “What are you going to say?”

  A hint of a smile crossed Walter’s swollen lips. “We do not want Peter removed, so we must remove the jeweler’s daughter instead,” he said. “We are going to tell the king that his jeweler, the man he spends a good deal of money with, is harboring a rebel in his bosom. We tell the king that the jeweler’s daughter is involved in de Lohr’s rebellion and if he wants answers, then he should interrogate her. If she is close to Peter de Lohr, there is no telling what she knows.”

  Agnes’ eyes widened when she realized what he was doing. “But you do not know that for certain,” she said. “I am in support of removing this woman, but what if the king finds out you are lying? Won’t it go badly for you?”

  Walter’s head snapped in her direction. “I shall not sign my name to the missive, you fool.”

  “But won’t the king want to know who sent the information?”

  “Do you want to marry Peter or not?”

  Agnes did. She wasn’t going to worry about being caught in a lie if her father wasn’t. Besides… who was to say if they were lying or not? It would be the word of a Jewess against the word of Walter de Quincy, lord of Astley Cross. Surely her father’s word held more weight than that of a common woman.

  But it didn’t hold more weight than that of Peter and Christopher de Lohr.

  Still, she was willing to do it. Anything to get that woman out of her way.

  Agnes found her vellum, quill, and ink, and scribed a missive to the king, carefully dictated by her father. He described the treachery of the jeweler’s daughter and how she was using her father’s place of business to mask her deceitful activities, mostly with the House of de Lohr. By the time the supper hour arrived, the missive was off to Westminster Palace, anonymously. But in the end, Walter used the Earl of Winchester’s seal on it. He was afraid an anonymous missive might be cast aside, but one from a rebel warlord would be read with interest.

  It was a hope he had.

  Walter slept well that night in spite of everything, with dreams of a changed situation come the morning.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  He kept looking at her.

  Liora knew that Gideon was trying to get her attention, to make eye contact with her, but she wouldn’t look at him. She didn’t even want to be here, but her father had coerced her into eating supper with a guest she didn’t want to be around. She’d agreed to do it based on a bargain, but they hadn’t even gone to Westminster that afternoon as her father had intended. He’d found something in the golden belt he didn’t like, so he’d taken the time to fix it, which meant they’d go tomorrow.

  Maybe.

  So, Liora had been tricked into having supper with Gideon. It wasn’t that he was a terrible man. In fact, he was pleasant enough, kind and accommodating, but he was as bland as water. He was older than she was, having inherited the horse business from his father, but he was very wealthy, with a fine house on King Street. He lived with his mother and grandfather and had made no secret for years that he wanted a wife in Liora ben Thad. Haim wouldn’t entertain the suggestion until Liora came of age and even then, he’d waited two full years before he finally allowed Gideon to move past the initial interest phase.

  Now, Gideon was a welcome guest in their home.

  Liora sat across the table from him, between her mother and grandmother, while Asa sat next to Gideon and stuck his tongue out at the man every time he looked at him. That made Gideon a little uncomfortable, so Asa was excused towards the end of the meal because he was finished and couldn’t seem to stop making faces at Gideon. Haim tried to make it seem as if his son were simply lively and full of fun, but Liora knew it was because Asa didn’t like Gideon in the least.

  It was all she could do to keep from bursting out laughing.

  Usually, no one was allowed to leave the table until the last of the meal was finished, so Asa’s early departure should have been a harbinger of things to come for Liora. Once Asa was gone, her mother and grandmother departed in quick succession, leaving Haim sitting at the head of the table with his daughter on one side and her hopeful suitor on the other. He poured himself and Gideon more wine but left Liora’s glass empty.

  “I must speak to you both tonight,” Haim said, looking at Gideon. “You know that I have not been willing to let my daughter leave my household, Gideon. You have tried for at least four years to gain my permission, but I have resisted. I wanted to let you know that tonight, I resist no longer.”

  As Gideon grinned, Liora looked at her father in horror. “What?” she cried. “Papa, please do not say anything more. We have not even discussed this!”

  Haim looked at her then. “I am sorry, zeeskeit,” he said gently. “I know we did not, but it is time. If I told you of my plans today, you would have never come to sup with Gideon.”

  Liora’s mouth popped open. “You… you deceived me?”

  Haim merely shrugged. “I believe that Gideon will make a fine husband for you,” he said. “You will have your own home and children. Is that not what you want?”

  Gideon was beaming from ear to ear, so very pleased to hear that he had Haim’s approval, but Liora was out of her chair.

  “I will not have this conversation with you,” she said to her father, angrily. But her focus shifted to Gideon. “This is nothing against you, I assure you. I simply have no desire to marry at the moment and my father does not have my permission to agree to anything.”

  Gideon’s smile faded as he realized Liora was opposed to his suit. “I… I am sorry,” he said, genuinely confused. “I thought it was known that I… everyone expects that we will marry. My mother is most anxious to have you as a daughter.”

  He sounded weak and pleading, with a high-pitched voice that grated on her. All she could think of at that moment was of Peter’s deep, honeyed voice, something that sent shivers up her spine.

  She wanted a man who sent shivers up her spine.

  She’d never realized that more than at this moment. Until Peter de Lohr came into her life, perhaps she would have been accepting of Gideon’s suit, eventually. It wasn’t as if she had a myriad of attractive prospects. She had merchants and grocers and goldsmiths. That was her world and she accepted that. She’d never known anything differently.

  But then came Peter.

  He represented something new and exciting, power and passion, bringing forth thoughts and feelings in her that she’d never had before. While her world was rich with beauty and culture and tradition, Peter’s appearance hinted at something more out there for her. Something different but just as rich. Perhaps it was wrong of her to think of such things, but she couldn’t help it. She was you
ng, beautiful, and vital – and so was her handsome golden knight, Peter.

  And then, there was Gideon.

  It wasn’t his fault. He had been born into the same traditions that she had been. He was a wealthy horse trader. She was the daughter of a jeweler. There was nothing wrong with either of those things provided the people entrenched in them were happy.

  Liora knew, increasingly, that she was most definitely not happy.

  “I am sorry, Gideon,” she said quietly. “You shall have to find your wife elsewhere because it will not be me.”

  With that, she bolted from the table, hearing her father call after her but unwilling to answer. She was angry and confused, agitated and overwhelmed. It would have been easy to blame Peter for her condition but, truth be told, it wouldn’t have been the first time she had longed for a life outside of the world she knew. Every time she saw beautiful women with their handsome lords purchase jewelry from her father, she envied them. She had always envied them.

  Now, she had a chance for a handsome lord of her own, an earl’s son no less. But was she surrendering all that she was, her entire heritage, to dream about it?

  Her bedchamber was a large one, spanning one entire side of the house with the big windows that overlooked the alley and the kitchen yard in part. She entered her chamber and shut the door, bolting it so her father or angry mother couldn’t get in. She knew her mother was going to be furious about shunning Gideon, but she didn’t care. Jewish girls, just like Christian girls, were raised to listen to their mothers and fathers and to do their bidding. Obedience was smiled upon by God. Liora’s mother and father had always given her a great deal of freedom, which would work against them in this case. She wasn’t going to marry Gideon no matter how much they demanded it.

  She wasn’t going to give in.

  She lit a taper at the end of her bed, sitting on a table where her sewing was neatly piled. Liora had a knack for embroidery and there were neatly draped veils on the table, one of which was only partially embroidered around the edges. Sitting down, she picked up the veil and resumed her sewing. She found that she could think better when her hands were occupied, as it seemed to ease her mind, which so often would run amok if she let it. She had a busy intellect, something Peter had seen a glimpse of, but sometimes she simply had to sit still and focus on something repetitive – like sewing. It helped clear her mind.

  A mind that desperately need clearing tonight.

  Silently, she stitched by candlelight, thinking of Peter, thinking of their brief encounters and feeling warm and giddy every time she thought of those intense eyes looking at her. At one point, her father came to the door and knocked softly, begging her to open it, but she chased him away by telling him that she was in bed. He went away only for her mother to come and bang on the door, demanding she open it.

  Liora told her that she would see her in the morning.

  And on it went for at least an hour. She heard her parents arguing downstairs and then a door slam as her mother went to bed. At one point, she caught a glimpse of shadows down in the alleyway, knowing it was probably Asa playing games with his friends. When all young boys should be in bed, Asa would rather run around with his friends, playing in the dark, until Haim would go outside and yell at him to come to bed. At least, she thought it was Asa until she caught sight of a horse. Startled, she sat up and peered out the window, only to realize that it was Peter’s horse.

  Peter had made an appearance.

  Quickly, she opened the window.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed. “I told you not to come tonight!”

  The moon glistened off of Peter’s light hair in the darkness. “I know,” he said. “And I am sorry, but I must speak with you.”

  “But… I cannot, not tonight.”

  “It is important, Liora. Please.”

  Something in his tone made her heart leap. Puzzled, and the least bit concerned, she shut the window and made her way to the chamber door. Quietly unlocking it, she stuck her head out into the landing to see where her parents were. Her grandmother wasn’t a problem, but her parents would be. Sometimes, they prowled the corridors. However, she didn’t see them nor did she hear them.

  Quietly, she slipped from her chamber and shut the door behind her.

  With great stealth, Liora made it down the stairs and through the kitchen, emerging into the kitchen yard beyond. She went to the gate and opened it up, only to see that Peter was standing right next to it. Gazing into his handsome face, she realized how glad she was to see him. Something about him gave her a sense of comfort, of joy.

  But his appearance here was not welcome this night.

  “What is it?” she whispered. “My mother and father are very angry with me right now and they would be furious if they saw you here. What do you want?”

  Peter reached out to gently touch her hand, brushing his flesh against hers in a move that made her tremble so badly that she nearly lost her balance.

  “I am sorry,” he murmured. “But I spoke with the rabbi today. I must tell you what he said.”

  Liora’s gaze lingered on him, already knowing it was terrible news. He didn’t even have to tell her. It softened her edgy manner, now fighting off disappointment and melancholy when she realized this golden dream would be over before it truly began. But she did want to hear what he had to say.

  Even if it was only goodbye.

  “Tether the horse out here,” she said quietly. “He will be safe.”

  Peter did as he was told, knowing his horse wouldn’t go with anyone but him, so he wasn’t concerned with leaving it in the alley for a quick getaway. With the horse tied off, Liora grasped his hand and held it tightly as she led him through the yard and into their small stables that smelled strongly of dried grass and goats. In fact, there were several of the little animals corralled up at one end. It was dark, but for a small ventilation window to let in air and light, as she took him over to a pile of hay and sat down.

  Peter sat down next to her.

  For a moment, they simply looked at each other until Peter lifted his hands and gently cupped her face. Leaning forward, he slanted his lips over hers in a completely unexpected move, a kiss of such power and such passion that Liora couldn’t even fight him off. Not that she wanted to, but propriety dictated that she at least force him to behave.

  But she couldn’t.

  It was a kiss like she’d never been kissed in her life. When he finally pulled away, she felt lightheaded. It took her a minute to catch her breath.

  “Is… is that what you wanted to tell me?” she whispered.

  Peter grinned, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “Nay,” he said. “But I simply couldn’t help myself. Are you angry?”

  Liora shook her head. “Nay.”

  He took that as an invitation and his lips clamped on to her soft mouth again, kissing her deeply as he pulled her into his arms. The heat from a thousand suns couldn’t match the fire she felt when he had her in his arms, her supple body against him, his lips on hers. Her firm, round breasts were pressed against his chest and although he hadn’t moved to grope anything, she could feel his fingers on her torso, caressing her. It was wicked and wanton of her, but she wondered what it would feel like for him to touch her body. The more he kissed her, the more heat she felt all over and the more her heart raced.

  The man had a touch like lightning.

  “Forgive me,” he said, pulling away and allowing her to breathe. “I wondered what it would be like to take you in my arms and now I know.”

  Dazed, she licked her lips. “What is it like?”

  His answer was to kiss her a third time, hard, his tongue invading the sweet recesses of her mouth as he pushed her back onto the pile of hay. He was taking charge and Liora was letting him. Everything about the man had her in a fog where she could hardly think and only feel. She felt everything he was doing to her, even when his mouth left hers and began to wander. His left hand was wandering, too, entwined in her hair as he kiss
ed her chin, her neck, her shoulder, before moving down her torso and gently caressing her belly. She could feel his heated palm through the fabric of her gown, and she felt his hand as it moved up her belly to the valley between her breasts. It moved up further and gently grabbed her around the neck as he suckled the flesh of her collarbone. The more he suckled, the tighter his grip on her neck as he turned her head to the side and began to kiss the swell of her breasts.

  It was heaven.

  But it was also growing increasingly passionate. Liora didn’t know enough to stop him. She was loving everything he was doing, every kiss, every touch, letting him do whatever he wished. She had her arms around his head, holding him against her when he pulled back the neckline of her dress to expose one of those full, beautiful breasts. When the neckline didn’t give enough, he yanked on it, tearing it. Liora started to come out of her stupor at the sound of a torn garment until he pulled it down enough to expose her left breast. When his seeking mouth descended on a taut nipple, she was lost.

  A gasp escaped her lips as he suckled hard enough to bring pinpricks of painful delight. But it only went on for a few seconds before he suddenly pulled away, quickly pulling her bodice up to cover her luscious breasts.

  “Oh, God,” he breathed. “Forgive me, Liora, please. I wasn’t thinking… Christ, everything about you consumes me and I am so sorry… but it was just so natural.”

  Her head came up, looking at him in the darkness. “You are sorry that you touched me then?”

  He could see her, barely, but he shook his head. “Nay,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her firmly, suckling her lower lip before releasing it. “I did not mean it that way. I will never be sorry for touching you. I meant that I should not have taken such liberties. My only excuse is that the moment I touched you, I lost myself. You consume my senses as I’ve never been consumed before.”