Christin was watching him with a mixture of awe and confusion. He’d said so many nice things in that brief declaration that thoughts of the king were being pushed aside. All she could focus on was his chivalrous affirmation. It was part of the flattery he’d been liberal with since Ramsbury. But this time, there was something more behind it.
She felt something more.
“You think I am stronger than Susanna?” she said. “But she is Blackchurch-trained.”
He lifted his shoulders. “As I said, if you’d been born male, you would have made a magnificent knight.”
“If I was born male, we would not have this situation on our hands,” she said. “And I suspect you would not be so concerned for me.”
“Of course I would. You are a comrade.”
“I am also a woman, one you have called beautiful more than once.” She watched his dark eyes shift, as if her implications were rolling through his mind, and emboldened, she stepped towards him. “Mayhap I am speaking out of turn, but there is something I must say. Since leaving London, you have shown me attention that, if I were the suspicious or romantic type, I would have taken as your interest in me. Personally, I mean. Alexander, I have known of you for at least a year or two, ever since I started along this path with The Marshal. Both my father and my brother speak of you as if you are some kind of legend and that is what I know of you – that you are legendary. A man who is merely concerned for a comrade does not swear to protect her in the face of a lustful king, especially when doing it would more than likely ruin him.”
He was looking at her, guarded. He always had such a glimmer of warmth to his gaze that to see him looking at her as if he were wary or even defensive was quite different. In fact, he couldn’t seem to look her in the eyes so he turned away.
“I have done many things in my life that are risky or questionable,” he said quietly. “This would be nothing new or different.”
“Then you would do this for any woman?”
“Nay.”
“Why me?”
He sighed heavily. “What do you want me to tell you?”
“The truth, Sherry. Tell me the truth.”
He was staring off towards the garden, mulling over her words. After a moment, he simply shook his head. “I have no right to,” he finally said. “Forgive me if I was too bold or too forward. You are a de Lohr and beyond my reach. It will not happen again.”
“And you are a legend and beyond mine.”
He looked at her, then. “Is that what you think? That I am elite?”
She took another step towards him, now standing fairly close. She studied his face a moment. “Aye,” she said. “But you told me once that you were not afraid of my father and if you wanted something, you would get it.”
“That is true.”
“Did you mean me?”
He held her gaze but it was difficult. The question hung between them and for a normally emotionless man, there were emotions rippling all across his face – longing, doubt, fear, interest – wordlessly, he was shouting them out to her, speaking of his dilemma. He was a man torn.
But he was also a man cornered.
The time had come for him to take a stand.
“Although I am not worthy of you, aye, I meant you,” he murmured. “I am twice your age, Cissy. I have nothing to offer you but myself and that is not good enough for a woman like you. You deserve the most prestigious husband of the highest order, not an assassin with a past of unsavory things, a man who has wandered for the majority of his life. But you make me want to stop wandering and that is something I’ve never felt before.”
Those were, perhaps, the most beautiful words a man had ever said to a woman. At least, Christin thought so. Her heart swelled so in her chest that she thought it was going to burst forth and as she looked at him, all she could feel was joy.
Pure, unadulterated joy.
She could hardly believe it.
“You honor me,” she whispered. “You have no idea how much you honor me, Sherry. If you want to stop wandering… I will give you a reason to.”
He looked at her, his eyes widening. “You will?”
With a smile, she reached up, cupping his bearded face with the hand that wasn’t holding the satchel. It was the first moment of genuine affection between them, of her flesh against his, and it was not lost on either of them. At that moment, they ceased to become merely comrades.
At that moment, the relationship between them deepened.
“I do not care about your past,” she said. “You are a man to be admired in spite of what you think, and since we have come to know one another, I have seen a man of compassion and thoughtfulness and caring. That is the man I want to know more of. Buried beneath that assassin’s cloak, you have a tender heart, for I have seen a glimpse.”
Her hand on his face was like heaven. Alexander gazed into her eyes, hardly believing what he was hearing. He’d been doubtful, and confused, but these past few precious moments had cleared all of that up. He knew what he wanted and he wanted Christin de Lohr.
There was no doubt in his mind.
“No one has seen that but you,” he said, an embarrassed grin on his face. “I would like to keep it that way, so do not tell anyone.”
“Your secret is safe.”
Alexander continued to stare at her, feeling emotions he’d never felt before. It was so unexpected, but so incredibly beautiful. Usually an eloquent man, he was having difficulty finding the words.
“My life has always been one of duty,” he finally said. “I was the eldest son, raised to take my father’s place when the time came and raised to set an example for my brothers. They were twins – Adam and Andrew. Everything about my upbringing was so cold, so duty-driven. I fostered at six years of age and my master was a hard man. There was no warmth, no praise, only the message that there was always more to achieve. When I went with King Richard to The Levant, my brothers went with me. Like starry-eyed squires, they only thought of the greatness they would be achieving. They only wanted the glory. We departed with Richard in April, arrived in The Levant in September, and by June the following year, my brothers were both dead. Killed in the same battle. I have not been home since. I could not face my father.”
Christin could hear the sorrow in his voice as he spoke of his brothers more in detail. The man had a tortured past that she could not have imagined.
“That was many years ago,” she said. “Does your father know you survived?”
Alexander nodded. “He knows,” he said. “I sent him word in the same missive I told him of Adam and Andrew’s deaths. That’s when… that’s when I ended up serving Richard directly. If there was a dirty mission to be carried out, an assassination to accomplish, I was his man. Me and Maxton and Kress and Achilles, among others. Maxton and Kress and Achilles traveled in a trio, but me… I preferred to work alone. It is better that way.”
Christin wasn’t appalled by the talk. She’d heard it from her father, too, as he had been in The Levant. Unsavory things happened during war and she understood that. But in Alexander’s case, she could see the agony behind his actions.
He had a deeper reason.
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked softly. “None of it matters to me.”
“So you know the kind of man I am.”
“I know the kind of man you are. My father and my brother would not respect you so if you were not a man of character.”
He looked at her as if she’d just said something outlandish. Then, he shook his head. “Sometimes, I wonder if that is true,” he said. “I am a man with a stained past.”
“Are you trying to scare me away? It will not work, you know. I am not easily frightened.”
One moment, Alexander was looking into her lovely face. In the next, she was in his arms. He didn’t know how it happened, only that it had. She was warm and soft in his embrace, something he hadn’t experienced in years, and certainly not like this. Never with someone he was coming to care about. It h
ad been an impulsive move on his part, but not a surprising one. He looked at her, into those big, gray eyes, and knew there was nothing on this earth that could ever force him to let her go.
Ever.
“Cissy,” he said softly, “look at me. Really look at me. You must decide if I am what you truly want, for I will not accept a whim. Mayhap you are infatuated with the rumors you have heard and not the man I truly am. Only you can decide. But if you decide I am the man you want, nothing will stand in my way to make you mine. Not even your father. Will you go against him if he does not approve?”
She was torn between the thrill of being held by him and the truth of his words. “Of course he will approve,” she said. “He has no reason not to.”
“You did not answer my question.”
Her free hand was on his shoulder, moving to his neck. Her fingers brushed against his warm flesh. “Aye,” she murmured. “You are the man I want. I do not make decisions based on whims. I cannot explain it, Sherry… from the moment we met, I felt something for you. Awe, respect, interest… all of those things. And you are devilishly handsome. When you look at me, I feel bolts of lightning course through my veins. But I never imagined you would feel the same way about me.”
With a grin, his lips slanted over hers, kissing her as strongly and deeply as he had ever kissed a woman in his life. As he’d told her, his life had been one of cold duty, so to feel something warm and emotional had him reeling. His hands were in her hair, holding her mouth to his as he feasted on her. He was kissing her so passionately that he heard her gasp, as if he’d been smothering her, so he quickly pulled away, concerned he’d overwhelmed her with what he was feeling.
He was feeling everything.
“You have me,” he whispered, his hands still in her glorious hair. “All of me. But at the moment, we must move you someplace safe until the king leaves Norwich. If he moves against you now… I cannot guarantee that I would not take my own advice.”
She was licking her lips, dazed by the force of his kiss. “What do you mean?”
“I would kill him.”
Christin believed him and it terrified her, perhaps more than the king actually making a move on her. She couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to him because of her. Hand on his face, she kissed his bearded cheek.
“I know,” she said softly. “I have heard there is a nice inn near the cathedral. I shall go there until this is over with.”
He took her satchel from her and grasped her hand. “Come along, then,” he said. “We must hurry.”
He was starting to head out through the main gate and she dug her heels in. “Nay,” she said. “Not that way. There is a gate that leads to the farmlands below. It will be easier to leave through the gate down there and we will not be seen by so many of John’s soldiers.”
Alexander shifted direction. He began to walk, still holding Christin’s hand, passing into the small garden behind the keep. No sooner had he stepped foot into the garden than a massive shadow appeared in his way.
Sean de Lara emerged from the shadows.
Alexander came to a halt and dropped Christin’s hand, facing off against a man that served William Marshal in the capacity of the king’s bodyguard. But it was more than that; if the king ordered Sean to bring him a woman, Sean would do it without question. If the king ordered him to kill a rival, Sean would snap the man’s neck and toss him in the nearest river. Much as Alexander had a terrible reputation for brutality, Sean’s could match it and then some. Alexander’s reputation wasn’t out in the open as much as Sean’s was. Everyone in England feared the man known as Lord of the Shadows.
And here he was.
“Sean,” Alexander greeted steadily. “What finds you out here? Isn’t the king still inside?”
Sean nodded. “He is,” he said, his gaze moving between Alexander and Christin. “Where are you taking the lady?”
Alexander quickly sized up the situation. Sean was a couple of inches taller than he was and built like a bull, but Alexander had the advantage of enormous strength and a sword hand that was better than most. Even though he and Sean were technically on the same side, Alexander was prepared to fight the man in order to remove Christin.
He was prepared to do what was necessary.
“I am taking her away until the king leaves,” he said. “You were in the chamber when the king demanded to dine with her, Sean. Did you really think we would allow it?”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“Me,” Christin stepped forward. She didn’t really know Sean well but she knew his mission. She knew he had to provide the illusion of being loyal to the king above all else. “I will not sup with the king because if he tries to molest me or, God forbid, succeeds, it will bring my father’s wrath. Dealing with the French will be the least of your worries if my father declares war on the crown.”
Sean’s gaze settled on her for a moment before nodding. “I know,” he said simply. “I have told the king the same thing but to no avail. But you should know that this runs deeper than his usual interest in a woman. I am afraid I may not have the opportunity to tell The Marshal when he arrives, so I must tell you, Sherry. All of this runs deeper than you think.”
Alexander wasn’t sure if he was still going to have to fight Sean off, but it didn’t sound like it. At least, not at the moment. He cocked his head curiously.
“Deeper?” he repeated. “Sean, you should know that we had an incident at Ramsbury Castle a few days ago. Has anyone told you about it yet?”
Sean shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “What happened?”
“We had information that Lord Prescombe was a double agent for the French crown,” Alexander said. “We set a trap for him and as it turned out, he had a female French agent working with him. Christin cornered the woman and she told Christin that there is a threat against John under our noses. There is some manner of threat against him we are not aware of and The Marshal believes it may be one of the allies who will be in attendance at this celebration. That is why we are all here; to find out who, or what, this threat is.”
Sean digested the information. “It is possible that it is one of the allies,” he said. “It is equally possible it is not. It could be an assassin dressed as a soldier or a knight, someone who is able to get close to the king. I will have to shadow him closely to ensure he remains healthy.”
Alexander nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “It is important you know what we were told. But now with this added threat of the king being interested in Christin… if her father finds out, the king’s days are numbered. It will tear the country apart.”
Sean sighed heavily as the weight of the situation settled. “It is worse than that,” he said. “If I do not have the opportunity, you must tell William that John has plans for Christin.”
Alexander and Christin looked at one another, puzzled. “What plans?” Christin asked. “How could the man possibly know anything at all about me?”
Sean looked at her. “He knows that you are Christopher de Lohr’s eldest daughter,” he said. “He knows you are unmarried. He plans to marry you to his bastard son, Robert FitzRoy. The man is the son of a king, after all, with a great manse in Bishop’s Lynn, and for ties to de Lohr, John is willing to take the risk. He is convinced that marrying you to his son will subdue your father.”
Christin was genuinely trying not to look horrified. She was also genuinely trying not to run. She held her ground, looking at Sean as if he’d just given her a death sentence.
“Is this true?” she breathed. “There could be no misunderstanding on your part?”
Sean shook his head with genuine regret. “Nay,” he said quietly. “There is no misunderstanding. I am sorry, Christin. I have tried to discourage him and I shall continue to try. But at some point, it will look suspicious if I do not support his wishes.”
Christin understood that. She could see that Sean wasn’t here to take her to John, at least not yet. He was keeping her informed of what was happening. She
’d never felt so frightened in her life.
Alexander.
She looked at him to see what his reaction was to all of this. He was looking at Sean, staring at the man in disbelief. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded strangely weak.
“Then hiding her until the king departs Norwich will not matter,” he said. “This is not a whim.”
“Nay, it is not,” Sean said. “If she escapes him here, there will be another time. John does not easily give up. But if we face it now, we can control it somewhat.”
“How?” Alexander asked.
Sean looked at Christin. “I have an idea, my lady, if you would be willing.”
Christin wasn’t sure how to answer him. She wanted to leave. She wanted to hide out but Alexander and Sean seemed to think that wasn’t a good idea. If John was on her scent, he would not relent until he found her. But she wasn’t so convinced.
“Why must I face him?” she asked. “Why can I not simply hide away until he forgets about me. There are thousands of women in England. He will find someone else for his son, eventually.”
Sean lifted his big shoulders. “It is possible,” he said. “It is equally possible that by losing the opportunity to wed you to his son, he will go after one of your sisters. You have three, do you not? Brielle is the sister closest to your age. What if he takes her instead of you? Would that make you feel better?”
He sounded cold and Christin stiffened. “Of course it will not make me feel better,” she hissed. “My father will go after him, anyway. I must send word to my father to hide all of my sisters until the king grows weary of us and moves on to another family.”
The Agents of William Marshal Volume II: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 11