She Owns the Knight (A Knight's Tale Book 1)

by Diane Darcy

  Robert rolled his eyes. “Get hold of her, boy!”

  The boy finally overcame her by wrapping an arm around her waist and placing a knife to her throat. Wide-eyed, she finally settled, both of them breathing heavily.

  Satisfied, Robert turned to see Kellen repeatedly punching a man in the stomach so hard he was lifted inches off his feet and, the second guard, his nose obviously broken, struggling to stand.

  Robert sighed. Did he have to do everything himself? “Do I need to cut her?” His voice was loud, but pleasant. “I will, you know, and with pleasure.”

  Kellen glanced wildly around for Gillian, then, seeing the knife at her throat, stopped struggling. The two guards quickly grabbed and held him.

  Robert laughed. “I thought so.” He studied Kellen for a long moment, rather enjoying seeing him furious and helpless, caught by his own feelings for the girl. “I do hate to interrupt such a touching reunion.” He glanced around. “And in such a deserted location, too.”

  Kellen glared at him. “What do you want, Royce?”

  “What do I want?” His fists clenched. “Mayhap I wish to see you put in a dress?” Robert took a calming breath, then motioned to his men. “On his knees.”

  His men kicked the backs of Kellen’s legs and, when he dropped, held him down. Robert smiled, enjoying the sight of the great Lord Kellen Marshall humbled and furious. He motioned to his men. “Not a mark to his face.”

  Needing no further instruction, they took turns slamming their fists into Kellen’s back, chest, stomach, and arms. Robert smiled, enjoying every blow, grunt, and furious glare.

  Gillian’s enraged scream was cut off by the boy’s hand over her mouth. “Please, my lady. Please be still.”

  Robert, irritated by the distraction, glanced around. “Yes, keep her quiet. We do not wish to be interrupted, do we?”

  Gillian’s hands fiddled with something and as Robert watched a blade opened in her hand. He moved forward swiftly and knocked it to the ground. He laughed as she rubbed her stinging fingers. “So very feisty.” He snapped his teeth at her. “Save a bit for later, my dear.”

  Robert lifted a hand to his men. “That is enough.” One jerked Kellen’s arms behind his back in a cruel grip, and the other grabbed Kellen by the hair and yanked his head back, baring his face. Robert leaned down. “Do you know where the fair Gillian has been these last weeks? With me, at my castle, in my bed. When she ran away, that is where she went.”

  Gillian struggled against the hand at her mouth, unable to speak, and Robert laughed.

  “You supplied the poison to Catherine,” Kellen spat, bitter and fierce.

  One of the guards slammed a fist into Kellen’s face. Robert frowned. “Do not damage his face! How much more clearly can I state it?”

  “Sorry, my lord.”

  Robert looked at the fresh cut on Kellen’s cheek and chuckled. “Oh, well. What’s another scar? Dear Catherine hated them, you know. It was her idea to use poison. A shame she drank it and killed not only herself, but your heir, as well.”

  Robert straightened and smirked. “Or would he have been yours? As much as she liked to crawl into my bed, there may have been some question as the child started to mature.”

  Suspicion marked Kellen’s features. “You were in London most of that year. After her death, I checked your whereabouts.”

  Robert raised a brow. “You thought to suspect me?”

  “I suspected everyone. Catherine herself told me with her dying breath she had a lover who was beautiful. You did come to mind.”

  Robert smiled. “Yes, well, I may have been in residence more often than I let on. Catherine preferred the secrecy. She loved to lie as a common maid in the forest. It was most uncomfortable and I ruined more than one tunic, but she wished for the risk and excitement. Who was I to deny the lady?”

  Robert laughed at Kellen’s murderous expression. “Of course, when it came time to kill you, I left. Catherine could be a fool at times, and there was always the chance she would get caught and betray me. I did not wish to be in the vicinity if she did.”

  Robert pressed his lips together. “She deserved to die. She was supposed to be mine. Her property and her child. The only thing she did aright was to give you a girl the first time. I thought perhaps the child was mine; and when I learned of your own doubts, it doubled my enjoyment.”

  Robert glanced at Gillian, enjoying her wide-eyed, tearful fear. “Then dear, sweet, Lady Gillian ruined it all with her sketching, making us all see to whom Amelia truly belonged.” He shook his head. “Aye, Catherine betrayed me on many levels: having doubts, harping on her honor, bedding you. I’d wondered if she took the poison apurpose.”

  Robert shrugged. “It matters not. When you are gone, I plan to convince the king you killed your wife. I will say you admitted such to me after you killed Lady Gillian in a jealous rage upon seeing me escort her to you, and then remorseful, you killed yourself. I will say you could not live with double the guilt. Your father will share your shame and the king will give your land to me, his trusted and loyal servant. Everything you have will finally be mine.”

  Robert saw Kellen’s gaze flicker to Gillian and smiled. “The problem is, you have no idea how to romance a girl. Catherine was easy. If I have the chance, perhaps the fair Marissa will join me in bed, as well. She is lovely and lonely. Tsk-tsk. Always a bad combination.”

  Robert moved forward and motioned to the boy to drop his hand so Robert could cup Gillian’s cheek.

  She jerked her head away and glared at him. “Don’t touch me you filthy creep.”

  He grasped her chin tightly and forced her to look at him. “There was no turning your head, was there? Whatever did you see in that animal?” He jerked his head to indicate Kellen. “I think there must be something the matter with you to prefer such a scarred and overlarge man to me. I’ve often wondered if perhaps your vision is weak.”

  She tugged against his grasp again and, with a laugh, he let her go and turned back to Kellen. “You have had everything given to you while I have had nothing. I have been forced to scheme and betray to have what was easily yours. You, an uncouth and unrefined barbarian. But you will pay. Yes, now you will pay.”

  He smiled at Gillian. “I’m going to have your woman in front of you, then slit her throat, and then I will help you fall upon your sword in a fit of remorse. None will be surprised to learn you have killed a second woman, and the king will be most interested.”

  “Kellen, close your eyes,” Gillian said. “Hold your breath.”

  Robert laughed as he looked between the two of them. “Do you believe if he does not see your death it will make it any less real?”

  He turned to see Kellen actually closing his eyes and bending his head. Robert’s brows rose in surprise. “I had not though you such a coward as to—”

  The boy holding Gillian let her go and she stepped forward. Robert’s mouth dropped. “Boy, grab her! Hold her!”

  The boy shook his head and glared out of angry, tear-filled eyes. “My name is Valeric and I am your son. Your son! But I will have no part in this murder! I may never be a knight, but I will never be a cold-blooded killer, either!”

  As Robert started forward, Gillian’s hand lifted and sprayed red liquid at first one guard, then the other, coating their eyes and faces with red splatter. The men dropped to their knees screaming and clutching at their faces.

  Confused, Robert stopped, then took a step away from Gillian, and then another. Her eyes, wild with rage, turned upon him, and Robert crossed himself against her. “What is happening? What did you do to my men?”

  The guards writhed on the ground in obvious agony and Gillian ignored him to turn back to them. “I’ve sprayed acid into your eyes. You only have a few more moments before it starts to rot your vision away. If you don’t wash them out with water for a very long while, you’ll go blind and your face will melt like butter.”

  They scrambled to their knees and stumbled into the river behind them.
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  Kellen slowly stood, blinking rapidly, jaw thrusting as he started forward.

  One look at Kellen’s face and Robert turned and ran.

  “Valeric, take your lady to the keep!”

  Kellen ran after the fleeing Royce and easily caught him, tackling the other man to the ground. He rolled him over and as they struggled, exchanging blows, they were soon covered in dirt and leaves. Kellen, finally getting the upper hand, punched Royce three times in the face in quick succession and was well pleased when the smaller man’s nose crunched. Royce groaned in agony.

  Kellen rolled off him, stood, and beckoned with the fingers of one hand. “Stand, coward.”

  Royce stood, his eyes filled with hate as he felt his broken nose and wiped at the blood flowing freely down his face to drip off his chin.

  Kellen smiled. “That will mark you for the rest of your short-lived life, scum.”

  Royce pulled a knife from his boot, and Kellen jumped back when the smaller man slashed out with the blade. A dagger was thrown to the ground at Kellen’s feet, and he wasted no time scooping it up.

  “Traitor!” Royce roared at Valeric.

  Kellen saw Valeric wince, agony in his expression, before the boy tried to tug Gillian away; and when she fought him, he turned and ran into the trees alone.

  Kellen shook his head. “I have always considered you an idiot, but never realized the depths to which you were capable of sinking.” Kellen balanced on his feet, waited for an opportunity, and when Royce slashed out once more, unbalancing himself, Kellen swung his own knife with considerable force; and the blade ripped into Royce’s cheek, eliciting a scream.

  Kellen laughed. “Oh dear, that will most certainly scar. If it has a chance to heal, that is.”

  White-faced, Royce jumped back and put a hand to his face, a look of horror spreading across his features as he felt the disfigurement then looked at the blood on his hand.

  His face contorted in anger and with an incoherent yell, he ran at Kellen. Kellen grabbed his arm, wrenched it up, and drove his dagger into Royce’s belly and upward. “For my wife and my son, you misbegotten cur.”

  Kellen looked into the other man’s surprised face for a long moment before releasing him. Royce staggered backward, both his hands clasped around the dagger’s hilt, then sank to one knee. He stared up at Kellen, a look of disbelief upon his bleeding face, then fell over dead.

  Faint and dizzy, feeling both sickened and relieved, Gillian put both hands to her face and covered her eyes. After a moment she swallowed, straightened, and hurried forward to wrap her arms around Kellen’s waist. She carefully avoided looking at Sir Royce as she didn’t have the luxury of losing it just then. Maybe later. “Are you hurt?”

  Kellen glanced at his bloody arm, turning it so she could see. “No, love. ’Tis just a small cut.”

  Following his gaze, she winced at the gaping six-inch wound, fat tissue and muscle visible. It wasn’t bleeding as much as she would have thought, but it would need to be stitched. She lifted his undamaged arm and put it around her shoulders, more for moral support than anything, and he winced.

  “Oh, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

  Kellen pressed his arm against his side. “My ribs ache like the devil, but I’ll live.”

  They staggered through the trees and back toward the castle; Kellen’s injured ribs made him wince when they stumbled. When they moved into the clearing, it was to see Valeric leading Sir Tristan, Sir Owen, and several guards, all of them running fast. Gillian closed her eyes. “Oh, thank goodness.”

  When they reached Kellen, he motioned with his head. “You will find two men splashing about on the river bank. Put them in the dungeon. Also, retrieve Sir Royce.”

  Valeric stopped. “My father?”

  Kellen shook his head. “I’m sorry, lad. It could not be helped. Come with us. I do not want you to see his body.”

  Eyes bright with tears, Valeric glanced toward the trees, swallowed. “Am I to go to the dungeons, as well?”

  Kellen shook his head. “Nay. We will talk of this later.”

  They moved toward the castle, a subdued Valeric following behind and, upon their arrival, the healer was summoned as Gillian urged Kellen to go upstairs and lie in bed.

  He rolled his eyes, headed for his chair in the hall, and demanded some ale. Marissa arranged for food and drink as he told everyone what had happened. His father and Marissa, her ladies, the entire Corbett family, and about ten of his knights listened incredulous and astonished.

  Kellen finished with, “It was Sir Royce who planned my death and coerced Catherine into poisoning me. He also tried to stab Lady Gillian, poison her food, and murdered Frederick. Is that not so, Valeric?”

  Valeric, his face a study in misery, threw himself to the ground at Kellen’s feet. “My lord, I have a confession to make.”

  Kellen grabbed the boy by his shirt and forced him to stand. “Yes, yes. We already know Sir Royce was your sire.”

  “Aye, my lord, but the knife, the poison—

  “’Twas Lord Royce’s doing. It is at an end. Do you understand?”

  The boy searched Kellen’s face and swallowed, relief etched on his young features. “Aye, my lord. Thank you.”

  The healer finally arrived and tsked over Kellen’s injuries. When the man went to stitch the cut on Kellen’s arm, Gillian lunged forward and screeched. “You didn’t wash your hands!”

  Kellen sighed heavily. “Gillian, stand back. I do not wish you to hover.”

  “Just wait a minute, okay?” Gillian ran upstairs and was relieved to see her bags were in the room she’d shared with Marissa. She quickly found the key hanging on one of the gold chains around her neck, opened the padlock on one pack, and retrieved hand cleaner, antibiotic cream, alcohol swabs, and bandages from the first aid kit. She stuffed them in her pockets, snapped the lock into place, and hurried away.

  When she returned to the hall, Kellen’s wound was half stitched.

  “You didn’t wait!”

  The healer snorted. “This isn’t the first wound I’ve tended to, missy.”

  Gillian hovered, feeling helpless, on the verge of tears, and unsure about what to do.

  Lord Hardbrook took her by the arm and led her toward a bench. “Lass, are you all right?”

  She sank down and, feeling breathless and dizzy, raised a trembling hand to rub her forehead. “Fine. Fine. Just a little shaken up, you know?” When she realized she was the center of attention, she flapped a hand in embarrassment. “It’s just not every day that you see . . . see . . .” She sucked in a breath. “I’m just not sure I can do this, after all.”

  The healer finished stitching, and Kellen quickly stood and moved around several of his knights to sit beside her on the bench. He firmly pulled her onto his lap. “You will be all right in a moment.”

  As tears pricked her eyes she realized the last thing she needed or wanted from the injured man was sympathy. It embarrassed her.

  “Shh. Shh.” His arms encircled her, pulling her to his chest. “You can do this. You will.”

  Gillian leaned her head onto his shoulder and sobbed. “What do you want from me?”

  He chuckled and rubbed her back. “I want companionship, laughter, children, you. I want it all, love. I want you to marry me.”

  She noticed he didn’t mention money and she appreciated it. She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and tried to get hold of herself. “Yes,” she nodded, face flushing, feeling everyone watching. “I want those things, too.”

  “I also want to know your name.”

  That made her chuckle. “Gillian Rose Corbett.”

  “Of? Where are you from?”

  She laughed. “Seattle, Washington.”

  Lord Corbett snorted and stepped forward. “Of Corbett Castle, daughter.”

  Gillian lifted her head, her brows knitting as she studied Lord Corbett’s patrician features. The last time she’d seen the man he’d been denouncing her. Now he was claiming her? “I don’t understand
.”

  “There is nothing to understand.” Lord Corbett looked around the room at all the wide-eyed family, friends, knights, and servants. “As much as you like to pretend otherwise, and I will say, you have been a most difficult and willful child, you are my daughter and we will have our alliance with Lord Marshall.”

  Lady Corbett, her beautiful face serene and confident, stepped forward to stand beside her husband. “Yes, child. No more of this dissembling. You will claim us as we do you. Gillian Rose Corbett of . . .” She looked pointedly at Gillian.

  Gillian smiled at Kellen, chuckled, and then looked at Lord and Lady Corbett and bowed her head. “Of Corbett Castle.”

  After Sir Royce’s body was sent to Royce Castle, Gillian tried to get Kellen to go upstairs to rest, but he wouldn’t let her out of his sight. When she invited Lord and Lady Corbett to her room, he followed.

  He wouldn’t lie on the bed so she forced him to sit, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek for the intense, hungry way he watched her, and then dug her genealogy book out of one of the packs. She set it on the small table beside Kellen and opened it as the Corbetts gathered around.

  “This is a genealogy book. I looked through it to see if I was truly related to the two of you.” She glanced up shyly. “I am.”

  She opened the book to a page near the front and pointed. “See, here’s my name, and here are my parents’ names.” She flipped through until she found Lord and Lady Corbett’s information nearer to the end. “And here you are. See?”

  “The paper is so fine.” Lord Corbett leaned closer. “But the words are difficult to decipher.”

  “Not to me.” She read aloud his entire name, his parents’, and grandparents’ names.

  Lord Corbett pointed. “What is this?” he slid his finger across several black marks on the page.

  Gillian sighed. Trust the man to hone in on the one thing she didn’t want him noticing. “If you must know, they’re death dates. I planned to show you this book at some point, so I crossed them out. Your childrens’ and grandchildrens’, as well. There are just some things a person shouldn’t know.”