The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress
A Templar Detective Thriller
by
J. Robert Kennedy
From the Back Cover
IT WAS ONE OF THE MOST SCANDALOUS AFFAIRS IN THE KINGDOM OF FRANCE’S HISTORY.
AND ONE TEMPLAR KNIGHT PLAYED A PIVOTAL ROLE.
When a woman arrives at Sir Marcus de Rancourt’s new home, claiming to be a cousin of his late brother-in-law, he and his fellow Templars are forced to fight off her pursuers before knowing the truth of her crime—accusations of adultery by her husband.
Swearing she is innocent, Sir Marcus and his trusted sergeant agree to seek out the truth, while his squires remain behind to protect her. But soon after arriving in Paris, they discover that nothing is as it seems, and more is going on than they could have possibly imagined.
USA Today and million copy bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy once again takes history and twists it to his own ends, delivering a pulse-pounding page-turner filled with enough mystery, intrigue, action, and humor, to satisfy any thriller fan. If you enjoy fast-paced adventures, then you’ll love this taut historical tale of intrigue.
Get your copy of The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress today, and discover the forgotten history of one of France’s greatest scandals, and how one Templar knight changed history.
About J. Robert Kennedy
With over one million books sold, award winning and USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has been ranked by Amazon as the #1 Bestselling Action Adventure novelist based upon combined sales. He is a full-time writer and the author of over forty international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers. He’s married, has an adult daughter, and is likely hard at work on his next book.
What readers are saying about J. Robert Kennedy:
“Kennedy rules the genre!”
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Books by J. Robert Kennedy
The Templar Detective Thrillers
The Templar Detective
The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress
The Templar Detective and the Sergeant's Secret
The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist
The James Acton Thrillers
The Protocol
Brass Monkey
Broken Dove
The Templar’s Relic
Flags of Sin
The Arab Fall
The Circle of Eight
The Venice Code
Pompeii’s Ghosts
Amazon Burning
The Riddle
Blood Relics
Sins of the Titanic
Saint Peter’s Soldiers
The Thirteenth Legion
Raging Sun
Wages of Sin
Wrath of the Gods
The Templar’s Revenge
The Nazi’s Engineer
Atlantis Lost
The Cylon Curse
The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers
Rogue Operator
Containment Failure
Cold Warriors
Death to America
Black Widow
The Agenda
Retribution
The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers
Payback
Infidels
The Lazarus Moment
Kill Chain
Forgotten
The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries
Depraved Difference
Tick Tock
The Redeemer
Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series
The Turned
Table of Contents
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Table of Contents
Beginning
Author's Note
Preface
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
Acknowledgments
Sample of Next Book
Don't Miss Out!
Thank You!
About the Author
Also by the Author
For Ian Kennedy.
Not only family, but one of my biggest supporters.
“A Templar Knight is truly a fearless knight, and secure on every side, for his soul is protected by the armor of faith, just as his body is protected by the armor of steel. He is thus doubly armed, and need fear neither demons nor men.”
Bernard de Clairvaux, c. 1135
De Laude Novae Militae—In Praise of the New Knighthood
“If a man is found lying with the wife of another man, both of them shall die, the man who lay with the woman, and the woman.”
Deuteronomy 22:22
Author's Note
This is the second novel in this series, and for those who have read the first and embraced these characters as so many of you have, please feel free to skip this note, as you will have already read it in the first novel.
The word “detective” is believed to have originated in the mid-nineteenth century, however, that doesn’t mean the concept of someone who investigated crime originated less than two hundred years ago. Crime long pre-dated this era, and those who investigated it as well.
The following historical thriller is intended to be an entertaining read for all, with the concept of a “Templar Detective” a fun play on a modern term. The dialog is intentionally written in such a way that today’s audiences can relate, as opposed to how people might have spoken during the Middle Ages. This does not mean they will be speaking to each other as rappers and gangsters, but will instead communicate in ways that imply comfort and familiarity, as
we would today. If you are expecting, “Thou dost hath offended me, my good sir,” then prepareth thyself for disappointment. If, however, you are looking for a fast-paced adventure, with plenty of action, mystery, and humor, then you’ve come to the right place.
Enjoy.
Preface
In 1314, the Kingdom of France was rocked with what became known as the Tour de Nesle Affair. King Philip IV’s three daughters-in-law stood accused of adultery by his own daughter, two caught having affairs with Norman knights in the tower known as the Tour de Nesle.
Punishment was swift and brutal.
The men involved were castrated, then drawn and quartered—an excruciating death. The women didn’t fare much better. Both had their heads shaved and were sentenced to life in prison. One died under suspicious circumstances shortly after imprisonment, and the other, after eight years, was allowed to serve out the remainder of her sentence in a nunnery, though died within a year from illnesses acquired in prison. The third was placed under house arrest for a year, due to her admission that she had known of the affairs and hadn’t reported them.
This left two of the King’s three sons without wives, and none with male heirs. After King Philip’s death later that year—some say due to the strain of the scandal—each of these sons eventually held power, the next oldest replacing the previous upon death, but ultimately, the last died, and thanks to the affair, the hereditary line was broken, ending over 340 years of Capetian rule.
Though this wasn’t the first time scandal had rocked the King’s Court…
1
Paris, Kingdom of France
1297 AD
“M’Lady, you must leave now!”
Lady Joanne de Rohan stared at her chambermaid, her heart pounding with panic. “But how can I? If I do, he’ll take it as proof of my guilt!”
Beatrice urged her to hurry, her discovery of only minutes ago leaving her in a state Joanne had never seen her in, and it was worsening her own. “I heard him, M’Lady. He’s mad with rage! He’s calling for your head for the betrayal.” She stopped, uncharacteristically grabbing her mistress by both arms. “If he lays hands on you, I fear even the good Lord will be unable to protect you from the evil in the master’s heart.”
Joanne dropped on the edge of her bed, pulling at her hair. “This entire thing, it makes no sense! I’ve done nothing wrong!”
Beatrice hauled her to her feet then continued putting together a bundle of essentials. “He cares not of the truth, M’Lady, only of what he has been told in the message.” She shoved the bundle into Joanne’s hands. “M’Lady, you must go, now! I have a horse prepared for you with two days provisions, just in case.”
Joanne stared at the bag in her hands, then up at her trusted woman. “How did you manage that?”
Beatrice blushed slightly. “The stable boy is sweet on me, and has agreed to help get you off the premises, but you must go, now!”
“Where in Hades is that betrayer of all that is holy?”
The roared question echoed down the hall and through the door to her chambers, sending a chill through Joanne’s body. She had never heard such rage in her husband’s voice before, even during the arguments husbands and wives were expected to have after so many years of marriage.
It terrified her.
Beatrice grabbed her by the arm and hauled her toward the door leading to the servants’ passageway. “There’s no more time.”
Joanne no longer resisted, her husband’s tirade continuing, there no doubt he meant her harm.
And she wouldn’t blame him.
If the accusations were true.
She scurried down the narrow hallway with Beatrice in the lead, her heart hammering, tears flowing down her cheeks as she tried not to faint from the terror she now felt.
A thought occurred to her, nearly bringing her to a halt. “Where will I go?”
But Beatrice had thought of everything. “To your cousin’s.”
Joanne’s eyes narrowed. “My cousin?”
“Yes, Sir Henri, remember? He married and has a farm in Crécy-la-Chapelle.”
Joanne’s eyes widened in recognition, then her face paled. “But I barely know him! I haven’t seen him in years!”
“He’s family, and the fact he is almost forgotten is exactly why you must go to him. No one will think to look for you there. I will send word when it’s safe.”
They emerged from the hallway to the outside, Albert, the stable boy, waiting by the door, Joanne’s horse at his side. Beatrice hugged her hard. “You be safe, M’Lady.”
“Where is that adulteress that would call herself my wife!”
Joanne paled, as did Beatrice, who shoved her toward the horse. “Go! Now!” she hissed before stepping back inside and closing the door. Albert helped her mount the horse, but she hesitated as she heard Beatrice on the other side of the door respond to her master’s question.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I haven’t seen her since breakfast.”
“You’re lying! I’ll have the truth from you, even if I have to kill you to get it!”
Joanne gasped as she heard a sharp crack and a cry from Beatrice, the poor girl clearly struck by her irate husband. She moved to dismount, to help the defenseless girl, when Albert reached up and pushed her back into the saddle.
“You mustn’t, M’Lady.” He smacked her horse on the hindquarters and it whinnied in protest before racing toward the open gates, the cries of Beatrice echoing in Joanne’s head.
Please, Lord, save the poor girl from my husband!
2
De Rancourt Residence
Crécy-la-Chapelle, Kingdom of France
“I’d rather be in battle, fighting Saracens,” grumbled Simon Chastain, Sir Marcus de Rancourt’s trusted sergeant and good friend.
Marcus stood and stretched his tired muscles, then regarded his sergeant. “I’d rather you be in battle too. At least then you’d be in the Holy Land, which is definitely downwind. Have you smelt yourself lately?”
Simon leaned on the pitchfork he had been piling hay with, and gave his master a look. “Have you yourself? You’re no rosebush, my friend.”
Marcus took an exaggerated smell of his armpit and genuinely winced. “Have we become smellier, or is it just that we’re no longer surrounded by hundreds of men who all smell as bad?”
Simon glanced at the barn, filled with livestock and horses. “I think we’ve degenerated into animals. Perhaps we should be living with them, rather than in our own quarters.” He glanced at the incomplete barracks on the large property. “The facilities were much more civilized at our barracks in the Holy Land.”
Marcus glanced at the half-built barracks still under construction by the townsfolk in their spare time, the completed barn rebuilt by the guilty feelings of the same men who had burned down the original. It had been the priority, and his men hadn’t minded waiting for their own barracks as their new situation was worked out.
Sir Marcus was a Templar knight, and still was, though given special dispensation by the Grand Master to continue in his role, despite his circumstances. His sister had died, leaving her two children—his niece and nephew—orphaned. He had returned too late, and had reluctantly agreed to take on the responsibility of raising the two young children, saving them from an uncertain life. It had meant giving up his life of soldiering, effectively curtailed regardless by a Saracen arrow not four months earlier, weakening his left shoulder.
His men, Simon, whom he had fought with for over two decades, and his two squires, David and Jeremy, who had been with him for the better part of a decade, had all agreed to stay with him and work the farm he had inherited, his late brother-in-law deceased, having died two years earlier, saving young Angeline from drowning. He had never met the man, but from what he had been told, he had been a loving husband and father, who used his limited means, and distant aristocratic title, to provide his family with a better life than most in these parts.
But without anyone to work the farm, and no on
e to take care of the children, they would have been left destitute, given to the church, or worse, left to fend for themselves. It was something for which Marcus knew his sister would never have forgiven him, had he let it happen.
He stared at his young nephew Jacques and the orphaned Pierre, his parents murdered several weeks ago, leaving him with no one to care for him. As they brushed the horses, his niece Angeline collected the eggs from their chickens. He smiled at the sight. “We may smell, but we’ve done a good thing.”
The rest of his men stopped what they were doing, following his gaze. Jeremy spoke first. “I have no regrets, sir.”
“Nor I,” agreed David.
Simon growled. “I have a few, one of which is agreeing to share accommodations with you two.”
Marcus chuckled. “You’ll each have your own room when the barracks are complete, as I promised.”
Jeremy smiled. “I think that will be the first time I’ve had my own room in my entire life.” His eyes widened. “I think I might get lonely!”
David grinned. “Then find yourself a nice young lass to share your bed with!”
Jeremy rubbed his chin. “That is the most intelligent thing I think I’ve ever heard you say.”
“I’m not just a pretty face.”
“No, you’re definitely not that.”
“I said just.”
“I know what you said. Have you ever actually seen your face? It is quite revolting.”
David’s eyes widened. “You know, I don’t know if I ever actually have, come to think of it.” He jabbed a finger at Jeremy. “I just hope I’m not as ugly as you are. That would be a sin.”
“It would also explain your success with the ladies.”
“I’ve been as successful as you, I assure you!”
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