The Splendid Hour: The Executioner Knights Book 7

by Kathryn Le Veque

  William nodded faintly. “I do,” he said. “He serves his father and he has served me on many occasions.”

  “Is it fair to say that he is a good and just man?”

  “The finest,” William said without hesitation. “Peter is the future of this country. He bears de Lohr blood and that makes him a better man that most. But you must understand that marrying into the House of de Lohr will be quite different from the life you lead now.”

  “It does not matter so long as I am married to Peter. I am confident I can learn all he wishes for me to learn.”

  William’s brow furrowed because he thought she sounded a bit unrealistic. “I am sure you can,” he said. “But living a life with Peter will be as different as if you moved from your home in London and took up residence on the moon. You are in for a life of great excitement, pageantry, life and death, battles and politics, and with Peter right in the middle of it. It will not be a quiet life, my lady. Your husband will not be as safe as he would be if he were a horse trader.”

  She smiled faintly. “I have been told that,” she said. “It is not that I am ignorant to the fact that it will be very different. It is the fact that I would rather live a different life with Peter than a familiar one without him. My lord, there are things we can control in our lives to a certain extent – our friends, the food we eat, where we live. Basic things. But we cannot control what the heart demands. I am under no illusion that this will be a simple thing, but I am under the belief that, ultimately, it will be worth the risk. If I do not take the chance, then I will never know. And I shall always regret it.”

  William wasn’t going to argue with her about it. Her mind seemed set. In fact, he was coming to respect her because no matter the challenge before her, she was prepared to face it. He could see what Peter had found so fascinating in her because had he been a younger man, he might have found her fascinating, too.

  He was rather partial to beautiful, intelligent women.

  But they still had an immediate problem.

  “Then I wish you well,” he said. “But right now, we have a pressing problem and that is the fact that the king believes you are somehow tied to the rebel warlords. He believes you are a traitor to him and, subsequently, he believes your father is a traitor to him.”

  Liora was back to being frightened. “But how?” she asked. “My father knows nothing. He is simply a jeweler and nothing more. He is not involved in political intrigue.”

  “That may be, but the moment you harbored Peter de Lohr in your yard, he became involved,” William said. “I am not entirely sure how this will be resolved, but I will do my best. Meanwhile, you are going to be a guest of the king for tonight. Your father, too, although I may be able to secure his release sooner. For the fact that I must put you under lock and key now, I do not want you to despair. It must be done until the king forgets about you and moves on to something else. I think I can convince him that you are innocent, but it may take time.”

  Liora wasn’t feeling much hope. In fact, she was feeling rather sick. “Whatever you can do to clear up the misconception is much appreciated, my lord,” she said. But then she paused, studying him for a moment. “May I ask why you should help me?”

  William stood up from the chair. “Because the moment I heard John speak of the mysterious missive libeling the jeweler’s daughter and Peter de Lohr, I was compelled to get to the bottom of things,” he said. “What concerns the House of de Lohr concerns me. If that does not answer your question, suffice it to say that if Peter wishes to marry you, and the king holds you, there will be trouble even more than there already is. So what I do, I do to avoid trouble.”

  She nodded, trying very hard to be brave because she wasn’t as bad off as she could have been. At least she had one ally in the Earl of Pembroke and she thanked God for that.

  “You have my thanks, my lord,” she said. “I am very grateful.”

  William simply nodded, moving for the door, but something made him pause. He looked at Liora again, his eyes glittering in the weak light.

  “Can you scream?” he asked.

  She looked at him strangely. “I can. Why?”

  “Can you act like you are terrified and hysterical?”

  She nodded unsteadily. “It is not far from the truth.”

  A smile flickered across his lips. “Then you will do something for me.”

  Leaning in to her, he whispered something in her ear.

  A few minutes later, the door to the chamber opened and the sounds of hysteria filled the corridor. William had Liora by the arm as she screamed and fought against him, falling to her knees and begging him for mercy. He ended up dragging her, on her knees, halfway up the corridor until he came to several royal guards.

  “Find me a chamber I can lock her in,” he barked.

  The guards rushed to do Pembroke’s bidding. They ended up locking her in an upstairs chamber that, at one time, had belonged to a former advisor. Now, it simply sat dusty and unused, so William all but tossed Liora into the chamber and slammed the door, using the brass key that was already in the lock to secure her.

  He could hear her screaming on the other side.

  The guards were happy to leave the hysterical woman in peace, which was exactly what William wanted. John’s men had little to no control, and a lovely young woman wouldn’t escape their notice. He held the only key, as far as he knew, but guards could be clever. They might try to get to her regardless, so the screaming – and hysterics – were designed to keep them away.

  But he knew it wouldn’t last forever.

  With Liora secured, his thoughts turned to the king. He headed to the ground floor where he found John in the solar he favored, the one that faced Westminster Abbey. The corridors were narrow, long, and high-ceilinged, and the great double-doors opened into a fairly lavish chamber where the king and a few men were gathering. When they saw William enter, all attention turned in his direction.

  William held up a hand.

  “Be at ease,” he said, focusing on the king. “I questioned the lady extensively and I am satisfied that she is not part of any rebel activity. In fact, I found her too dense to believably be part of anything.”

  The king looked at him seriously. “Are you certain?” he said. “What about her ties to de Lohr?”

  The Marshal shook his head irritably. “There are no ties that I can assess,” he said. “She has met the man and she has spoken to him, but I do not believe she is a seductress. That being said, I think I know the origins of the missive you received – you are familiar with Walter de Quincy, your grace.”

  John nodded. “Winchester’s cousin.”

  “Did you notice the seal on the mysterious missive you received?”

  “It was Winchester’s.”

  William smiled thinly. “There is dissention in the ranks of the warlords these days,” he said, though it wasn’t exactly true. He just wanted the king to think so. “Walter de Quincy and Hereford are fighting amongst themselves and I believe that missive was de Quincy’s attempt to disrupt Hereford. As I understand it, the jeweler’s daughter met Peter de Lohr when he was hiding from de Quincy’s unpleasant daughter, Agnes, who wants very much to marry Peter. What better way to get back at de Lohr than strike out at an innocent woman who was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time? Nay, my lord, I do not think there is anything afoot with the jeweler’s daughter or the jeweler. I think it is de Quincy causing trouble.”

  John scratched his cheek as he pondered that bit of information, looking at the other men in the room, one of which was Richard de Percy, a warlord from Northumberland and one of the few from that region who sided with the king.

  “What do you hear about that, Richard?” John asked. “Is de Quincy capable of that kind of deceit?”

  Richard snorted. “Your grace, the man’s veins are full of ambition,” he said. “I must say that I agree with Pembroke. I would not put it past him. That missive was too mysterious for my taste.”

  John eyed
him. “It was concerning enough that you agreed I should send soldiers out at sunrise to bring Haim and his daughter here,” he said. “Now you say there is no trouble?”

  William spoke up for de Percy. “I do not believe so,” he said. “The girl is quite hysterical so I was forced to lock her away for her own good. I suggest we release her in the morning along with her father and be more cautious of anything coming from Walter de Quincy in the future.”

  He was trying to make it sound benign, like it was a situation that wasn’t worth the trouble. William thought that if he made it seem casual, the king would think it was as well. John was, if nothing else, pliable to his advisors and, at times, easily swayed.

  William wanted this to be one of those times.

  “Very well,” John said, turning back to his wine, even at this time in the morning. “I like Haim well enough. He does good work, so that should afford him some consideration from me. Release them both and we’ll hear no more about it.”

  William breathed a sigh of relief. “Excellent decision, your grace.”

  John paused as he picked up a cup. “Although…” he said thoughtfully. “The daughter is quite beautiful. I do not suppose any of you noticed that.”

  William wasn’t so relieved any longer. He knew John well enough to know that tone. The man had no restraint when it came to a lovely woman and it didn’t matter who she was. He was vile in his desires, something Sean de Lara had to deal with for the nine long years he was in service to the king. Sean could usually control the damage somewhat, but not always. Now, there was no Sean and the lascivious king had free rein in everything he did.

  But William wasn’t going to let him if he could at all help it.

  “She is lovely, but she is not worth the trouble,” he said steadily. “You have an excellent relationship with the Jews of London and they have provided you with a good deal of capital for your armies. Their bankers have helped you with outstanding debts and other things, so I would suggest you leave the jeweler’s daughter alone. You do not want to rouse the anger of men who control the finances of the London… and you.”

  That was very true. John had always worked well with the Jewish businessmen of London because they provided a definite service for him. In fact, under John’s rule, the Jews had enjoyed an enormous amount of peace and prosperity. Therefore, John evidently relinquished any thoughts of pursuing the jeweler’s daughter and turned back to his wine without another word. William once again breathed a sigh of relief and intended to head out of the solar to release the jeweler when he ran headlong into one of John’s guards.

  “My lord,” the guard said. “I’ve a message from the gatehouse.”

  William was still in the doorway, having not quite made it out of the chamber. “What message?”

  The guard looked between The Marshal and the king. “Peter de Lohr is at the gatehouse, demanding to be admitted,” he said. “He says he wants to see the king.”

  Seized with apprehension, William put his hand on the guard’s chest in an attempt to shove him out of the room so the name of Peter would not be heard by the king, but it was too late. John had heard him. He shouted before William could remove the guard.

  “Wait!” he said. “Peter de Lohr is here?”

  William closed his eyes for a brief moment before turning to John. “I will deal with him,” he said steadily. “You needn’t trouble yourself. I will send him away.”

  John was on his feet. “Wait,” he said again, more firmly. “Is it a coincidence that he has come, Pembroke? You told me the jeweler’s daughter had no relationship with him.”

  “She does not,” William said. “Of that, I am certain. Peter must be here on another matter.”

  It was clear that John was coming to think that William was trying to deceive him, which he was. But John wasn’t quite certain of it, not yet. His dark eyes took on a faint glimmer.

  “We shall see,” he said. “Bring him to me immediately. I will speak with him.”

  William didn’t have a choice. All he could do was agree as he pushed past the guard and headed out of the palace, heading for the gatehouse where Peter was waiting. How on earth Peter knew that Liora was at Westminster, he didn’t know, but he did know one thing – now it was going to be a hell of a mess. If the king believed that Liora was truly involved with Peter, then all of William’s work would be ruined. In fact, a great deal would be ruined.

  The situation was about to go from bad to worse, but more than he knew. Just as he went down to admit Peter at the gatehouse, the king sent someone for Liora, who remained behind a locked door.

  But not for long.

  A few well-placed ax strokes from one of John’s household guards saw to that.

  *

  Peter was a hair’s width from losing his control as he stood at the north gatehouse of Westminster Palace.

  Alexander, Caius, and Maxton were with them and Alexander had quietly explained the issue because Peter was too wound up to speak. He was pacing around, his face like stone, his gaze on the portcullis, which was lowered. He couldn’t see much other than a courtyard and the carefully landscape gardens that Westminster was known for. He finally came to a halt and planted himself right in front of the portcullis, focused on the activity beyond like a hunter focused on his prey. He completely missed his father riding up in the company of David and Marcus, the men dismounting their horses as Alexander tried to call them off.

  “I told you not to come,” Alexander hissed. “Chris, you are leading a rebellion. John would like nothing better than to get you into the walls of Westminster and lock you in the vault. You must leave.”

  Christopher was looking over Alexander’s head at his son, standing in front of the portcullis and being carefully watched by the palace guards.

  “I cannot leave him alone with this situation,” he said.

  Alexander did something then that he wouldn’t normally do. He pushed Christopher back towards his horse and indicated David and Marcus to go, too.

  “Get out of here before someone in a position of power sees you,” he growled. “The last thing we need on the eve of battle is for Christopher de Lohr to be imprisoned by the king. Do you have any idea what that would do to your allies?”

  Christopher knew that. He knew that very well. But he simply couldn’t let his son face John alone.

  “Sherry…” he said, a hint of hazard in his tone. “I cannot let Peter deal with this alone.”

  Alexander’s eyebrows flew up. “He is not alone,” he said. “Look who is with him – me, Max, and Cai. Do you think we will let anything happen to him?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then get out of sight,” Alexander said. “Get out and stay out. I will send you word if we end up going inside. Please, Chris… go.”

  “But I must be near.”

  “Then go to Hollyhock House,” Alexander said, pointing to the river road that would take them right to Hollyhock House, which was less than a mile away. “De Winter will let you stay there until we know more.”

  Christopher looked at David and Marcus, both of whom reluctantly nodded. Therefore, he mounted up and directed his horse back the way he’d come. David and Marcus followed behind him as they headed off to the de Winter stronghold. When they were out of sight, Alexander turned back to Peter.

  Maxton and Caius were standing with him now, all of them watching the activity beyond the lowered portcullis. It was Maxton who finally hissed at Alexander.

  “Sherry,” he said. “The Marshal is coming.”

  That brought Alexander to the portcullis as well, just in time to see William crossing from one of the larger inner gatehouses. Westminster was a maze of chapels, apartments, and administration chambers spread out over a massive plot of land. It was a city unto itself and as The Marshal drew near, he motioned to the gatehouse guards to raise the portcullis. It started to lift and Peter and Alexander ducked under it, but The Marshal threw out a hand.

  “Nay, Sherry,” he said. “Only P
eter. You and Max and Cai wait here.”

  Alexander backed off, but it was with great hesitation. Once Peter was under the portcullis and it lifted all the way to the top, The Marshal reached out to grab him.

  “Why are you here?” he demanded.

  Peter’s fair face was pale, his jaw ticking angrily. “There is a woman I…”

  The Marshal cut him off. “I know of Mistress Liora,” he hissed. “I know all about the two of you. She is here with her father and I nearly had the king convinced to release them both when you showed up. Now, John wants to see you.”

  Peter looked at him, his anger faltering. “You know?”

  “Of course I know,” The Marshal snapped. “There isn’t much I do not know. But your appearance here has mucked up the situation, Peter. I am very angry with you.”

  Peter looked at the man, exasperated. “Then if you know as you say you do, you also know that I had to come,” he said. “Liora’s little brother showed up at Lonsdale, telling us a hysterical tale of Liora and her father being abducted by John’s soldiers.”

  “It is true.”

  “Why?”

  The Marshal could see Alexander, Caius, and Maxton standing in an uncertain huddle beneath the portcullis. Lifting a hand, he indicated for the gate guards to close it, which shoved the three men back and away from it. He began to walk back the way he’d come, taking Peter with him.

  “This is all speculation, but I believe it to be true,” he said as they headed towards the inner gatehouse that led to the royal apartments. “I believe Walter de Quincy is behind this.”

  Peter’s eyes widened. “De Quincy?”

  The Marshal nodded. “We all know that he has spies watching you,” he said. “He must have seen you with the jeweler’s daughter, enough to believe that she was a threat to his ambition to marry Agnes to you. So last night, the king received a missive that was not signed yet bore the seal of Winchester. The missive said that the jeweler’s daughter was part of the rebellion, purging the king’s secrets from her father and passing them on to you. The king believes that Mistress Liora is a spy for you and your father.”