The Agents of William Marshal Volume II: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  David’s expression screwed up. “Ruin what? Her affair with Sherry?” He shook his head. “He’s an Executioner Knight, Chris. He lived at the Lateran Palace for years with a harem of women. Did you forget that?”

  Christopher shook his head. “David, you are telling me something I already know,” he said irritably. “I even reminded him of it, but he told me he hardly touched those women and they meant nothing to him. But he also made a good point.”

  “What is that?”

  “He told me if I could deny ever touching a whore before I met my wife, then he would drop his pursuit of Christin. Given our reputations when we were younger, of course, I could not deny it.”

  David backed off a little because his brother was correct. They’d had their share of loose women, but they’d never had the harem that Alexander had possessed those years ago. With a grunt, he rolled his eyes and turned away, pondering the shocking situation of his niece and Alexander de Sherrington.

  “But he’s an Executioner Knight,” he repeated. “He’s a known assassin, Chris, the most ruthless kind.”

  “I know.”

  “The man is great to serve with and I respect him a great deal, but I cannot say I’d want him married to one of my daughters.”

  Christopher poured himself more wine. “Why not?”

  David looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “I just told you. He’s a ruthless assassin.”

  “You and I have been known to kill a man or two, and not always by the most noble or ethical of means.”

  “True, but Sherry serves William Marshal,” David pointed out. “He will be away constantly in his service for the man and that is no life for Christin. She should have a husband who will remain with her. And what of his life as an agent for The Marshal? You’ve kept Christin well protected from the world at large. It will be a shock to her to be with such a man. She’s an innocent.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  It wasn’t Christopher who replied, but William. He was standing in the tent opening, pushing the flap back as he entered. Christopher and David looked at him questioningly as he came into the tent, eyeing the two of them.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I was standing outside and overheard you. Am I to understand that Sherry and Christin have a romance?”

  Christopher nodded. “Aye,” he said, feeling some defeat now that his anger had worn thin. “Did you know about it?”

  William shook his head. “I did not,” he said, moving for the jug of wine on Christopher’s table. “But that is a testament to Sherry’s professionalism. Christin’s, too.”

  Christopher’s brow furrowed. “Christin? What do you mean by that?”

  William glanced at him as he poured his wine. “Your daughter is not protected and sheltered, Chris,” he said. “She is not innocent, either, as David has suggested. She has been an agent with me for two years and she is one of the best I have ever seen.”

  Christopher’s eyes bugged. “Christin?”

  “Christin.”

  “My daughter?”

  “Your daughter. If you did not know that, then she is, indeed, good at what she does.”

  Christopher’s jaw dropped. “It’s not possible.”

  “I’m afraid it is.” William brought the cup of wine to his lips and took a sip before continuing. “She’s a de Lohr, Chris. She is young, that is true, but she is courageous, bright, and fearless. Had she been born male, she would have made a superb knight. I have used her on many a task and she has performed flawlessly.”

  Christopher stared at him. After a moment, he hunted down a chair and sat heavily. He found that he had to sit down or fall down. Shocked didn’t even begin to cover what he was feeling at the moment.

  “Christin is an agent?” he muttered as if trying to convince himself of the truth. He sat there for a moment, dazed, before his focus moved to William. “We knew Peter was, but Christin?”

  “Peter recruited her,” William said, watching Christopher wrestle with the news. “Chris, I tell you this because your daughter is not the fragile little girl you seem to think she is. She is one of the strongest women I have ever seen.”

  Christopher put up a hand. “She is my daughter,” he said. “She is not some ruthless Marshal assassin.”

  “You would be wrong.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “What?”

  William was genuinely trying to be gentle about the situation because he could see that Christopher was reeling, but the man had to know. His daughter was no weakling.

  “Do you remember back at Ramsbury, Chris?” he asked. “Peter and Bric and Sherry and even Christin, all of them, were in the great hall and then everyone disappeared. I do not know if you remember that, but…”

  Christopher cut him off. “I remember it well,” he said. “I even commented about it to David. But we were only assuming Peter was involved.”

  William shook his head. “I want to explain something to you,” he said. “I am telling you this not to cause you shock or even pain, but because I have an end motive in mind. At Ramsbury, we were chasing a French double agent, Lord Prescombe. We caught him, but we caught his companion, too. Or, I should say, your daughter caught her. When the woman attacked Christin, your daughter killed her. No fear, no hesitation. She killed because she had to, because she had no choice. But she is a true de Lohr to the bone. Do you know why she returned to the hall in a different gown from the one she had been wearing earlier in the evening? It was because there was blood all over it and she did not want you to see it. She covered her tracks, even from you.”

  Christopher sat there and stared at him, his expression growing darker and darker. “Christ, William,” he hissed. “Are you telling me that my daughter is risking her life for your political games?”

  “It was her choice, Chris,” William said quietly. “She is truly gifted, so much so that the men call her The Ghost.”

  “She’s The Ghost?” Christopher was on his feet now. “We thought it was Peter!”

  William smiled wryly. “Nay, man, it is your daughter,” he said. “They call her The Ghost because she is the last person one would suspect. She is quiet and efficient in everything she does, moves swiftly, and leaves no trace if she can help it. Trust me, Chris; your daughter is a rare female.”

  That didn’t help Christopher’s outrage. “To hell with that,” he growled. “I am taking her back to Lioncross and putting her under lock and key. How dare you risk my daughter’s life!”

  William held up a soothing hand. “That is the nature of this business we are all in,” he said. “Tell me something; if she was male, would you be so outraged? Is it simply because she’s a woman?”

  “A woman should be protected!” Christopher was so angry that he was shaking. “And this is no ordinary woman; this is my daughter. She is playing dangerous games with men far more trained than she is – and you are letting her.”

  “Have a little faith in me,” William said. “She does not go into a situation that may overwhelm her. Everything she does is with great thought. I hope you realize I would not intentionally or recklessly put her in danger.”

  But Christopher would not be eased. “I know you,” he said. “I know what you are capable of, now with two of my children to do your bidding. Do you think this makes me happy?”

  “You do my bidding.”

  “But I have been doing this kind of work for thirty years!” Christopher boomed. “My children have not! You are calling upon them to do the work of seasoned men who have been doing this kind of thing all of their lives. Neither Peter nor Christin have that kind of experience.”

  William was calm in the face of an irate parent. “You give your children no credit at all, do you?” he said. “Peter is a great knight and Christin is great in her own right. But I will admit that I am concerned with a romance between Sherry and Christin. I have watched Maxton and Kress and Achilles succumb to women and it has dampened their devotion to me. Not intentionally, but because their focus is on their wives and famil
ies. They acknowledge that and we all accept it, and still they answer my summons when they can. But for two of my active agents to be engaging in a love affair is dangerous for all concerned.”

  “It is dangerous, anyway,” Christopher said unhappily.

  William held up a finger to emphasize a point. “It is dangerous because emotion is involved now,” he said. “I need Sherry focused on his duties and I need Christin focused on hers – I do not need the added burden of them being focused on each other as well. Emotion can cause mistakes and poor judgment.”

  Christopher could see that the man was leading to something. “What do you intend to do?”

  “Speak with Sherry, at the very least,” William said. “Chris, I will say one thing to you about this situation and then I will say no more. You raised intelligent children who can think and act for themselves. Now, when they are doing so and have found something they have a passion for, the same thing you have a passion for, you are considering shaming at least one of them by taking her back to Lioncross. How do you think such an action is going to affect your relationship with your daughter, who has acted autonomously as an agent for two years? She is going to resent you. She may even run away from you and continue doing what she was born to do. Would you really treat your daughter like a foolish child when you have raised her to be a fine, strong adult? At some point, your children have to lead their own lives. They want to be a tribute to the de Lohr name. Let them.”

  With that, he set his cup down and quit the tent, leaving Christopher and David in tense silence. Christopher found his chair again, rubbing his forehead as the stress of the situation settled.

  “Christ, David,” he muttered. “Is he right about this?”

  David shrugged. “He sees the situation from a different perspective,” he said. “You see it from a parent’s point of view.”

  Christopher looked at him, his features twisting with disbelief. “Has Cissy really been a spy for two years and we did not suspect?”

  David snorted, but it was an ironic gesture. “I think we started to back at Ramsbury,” he said. “But hearing William’s confirmation… that is shocking.”

  “Without a doubt. That means he recruited her when she had seen sixteen years.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  Christopher leaned back in the chair. “I do not know,” he said honestly. “I am not thrilled with any of this, but William has a point – I raised my children to be strong and fearless, and when they are, it frightens me.”

  David could see the turmoil in his brother’s face. “I think the first thing I would do is speak with Christin,” he said. “Tell her you know that she serves The Marshal. Mayhap you can gain perspective on how she really feels about it.”

  Christopher nodded. “I suppose,” he said. “She’s my little girl, my firstborn with Dustin. I cannot think of her as anything else.”

  David smiled ironically. “I know who can.”

  “Who?”

  “Sherry.”

  Christopher put his hands over his face. “You had to remind me.”

  David’s smile turned genuine. “William has a meeting with his men in a few minutes,” he said. “Let us be part of it. You cannot fight this, Chris. As difficult as it is for me to say this, I think William makes sense. Your children are a tribute to you – let them be.”

  Perhaps he was right. Christopher wasn’t sure yet. But one thing was for certain – he had a situation with Christin and Alexander, and Marshal or no Marshal, he was going to deal with it as a father would.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  He hadn’t been able to leave John for hours.

  Sean was usually composed and collected in all situations, but the fact that John had kept him close for the past several hours and he’d not been able to break away to warn Christin or Alexander about the king’s intentions had him edgy. More and more guests were arriving for the celebration, but John had restricted himself to his chambers, watching everything from his perch high above.

  For several hours, he watched the incoming banners, identifying each one, pointing them out to Sean, who was preoccupied with the fact that Gerard had been gone for some time. He knew Gerard and how the man worked, and to say he was underhanded and sly didn’t begin to cover it. Gerard was as dirty as they came and it greatly concerned Sean that the man was now in charge of taking Christin north to Robert FitzRoy.

  In fact, the whole situation had him concerned, but not as concerned as John was when he saw the de Lohr standards raised in the encampment village below. Then, the man realized Christopher de Lohr had, indeed, come for his celebration and that drove John into a rage fairly early on. If the man was present at Norwich, then undoubtedly, he would be in the company of his daughter most of the time. That made their task far more difficult and John was furious about it.

  Already, the situation was not going as planned.

  “Did you hear me, Sean?”

  Sean had been lost to his own thoughts and the question came from the king. He’d been staring from the window but not really seeing or hearing, so he quickly shook his head.

  “Alas, I did not, your grace,” he said. “My apologies. I was thinking of the best route to Bishop’s Lynn for de Lohr’s daughter. We want to ensure she makes it to your son before de Lohr can get to her and, as you have noted, the man is here.”

  John came away from the window he was looking out of. “My dear Sean,” he said. “Always planning ahead. The fact that Christopher is at Norwich is unexpected, but I suppose in hindsight, I should have guessed. He and de Winter are allies.”

  “Technically, he is your ally, too, your grace.”

  John lifted his shoulders. “We have never been allies,” he said. “Mayhap he has fought for me, but he’s never truly been my ally.”

  “It will be even less so if you take his daughter,” Sean said quietly. “Since he is here at Norwich, will you not reconsider speaking to him about a betrothal? It will go much better for you if you do. It might even heal any rifts, perceived or otherwise. But if you simply take the man’s daughter, it will irrevocably damage any chance of creating a solid ally out of de Lohr.”

  John nodded his head as if he were truly thinking about the suggestion. “I know,” he said. “You have told me that before and I’ve had others tell me, also.”

  Sean lifted an eyebrow. “Who else have you told about your scheme, your grace?”

  John snorted. “Gerard said the same thing as you did,” he said. “Gerard hates everyone and even he was concerned. I have also told Monnington. It was his idea, after all.”

  Sean didn’t even look at the spoiled young lord in the corner. He’d been in the chamber for the better part of an hour, ever since he awoke with a horribly aching head from the night before and wandered into the chamber as if it were his right. Given that he’d provided a grand idea to the king, at the moment, he had that freedom. But too much wine and too many women, the privilege of John’s courtiers, had made young Evan a bit difficult to take. Although he’d been in the chamber for a time, he blissfully hadn’t said a word.

  “I hope young Lord Dorè knows to keep his mouth shut, your grace,” Sean finally muttered.

  John looked over at the hungover young nobleman. “He does,” he said confidently. “He is trustworthy. Oh, and Mandeville is here, you know. He believes it to be a terrible idea, also.”

  He was referring to one of his long-time courtiers, William Mandeville. Sean hadn’t seen the man yet, as he tended to float in and out of John’s circle as he went about his own business, but he was relieved to hear that the king hadn’t spread his plans further.

  “There are at least three of us telling you not to risk this, your grace,” Sean said. “Yet you still intend to?”

  John nodded. “If I ask for a betrothal, de Lohr will deny me,” he said frankly. “I know he will. I must therefore take the lady. I consider the rewards of this action greater than the consequences, for de Lohr will not dare act against me if he valu
es his daughter’s life.”

  “And you have the control,” Sean muttered softly.

  “Indeed, I do.”

  “I, for one, do not think it is a terrible idea,” Evan suddenly piped up. “I think it is a brilliant idea and you should be ashamed of yourself, de Lara, for thinking otherwise.”

  Sean turned to the young lord. “Cease your prattle, boy,” he growled. “You know nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

  A threat from Sean de Lara was not taken lightly and Evan visibly blanched. He’d been brave until the massive de Lara turned on him. He knew the man and he knew his terrifying reputation.

  Now, he wasn’t so brave.

  “What I meant to say was that the king’s wish is obeyed in all things,” he said, making sure he was well away from Sean should the man decide to lash out at him. “It is our duty, all of us, to obey.”

  Sean looked at the king. “Must I really speak with this piece of filth, your grace?”

  John chuckled, enjoying the moment. “You do not have to, of course,” he said. “But he is a lord on the Marches. When you inherit the Trilateral castles from your father, you will be a lord on the Marches, too. Mayhap it is good if you establish a rapport with young Evan. You will need allies when you are the Lord of the Trilaterals.”

  Lords of the Trilaterals was the de Lara hereditary title, something that Sean would indeed inherit from his father someday. Hyssington, Trelystan, and Caradoc Castles along the Welsh Marches would all be his.

  “I do not need an ally who would go behind my back and betray me as he is betraying de Lohr,” he rumbled, looking at Evan still cowering back in the corner. “I hope de Lohr finds out what you have done and wipes you from this earth. A quarter of his army could destroy you most completely, so I hope you are prepared to deal with that when the time comes.”

  Evan stiffened. “Is that a threat?” he demanded. “Are you going to tell him?”

  Sean rolled his eyes, exasperated. “I will push aside my policy not to speak with rubbish just this once and tell you that I do not speak of anything the king says with anyone other than the king,” he said. “I do not speak to de Lohr and if you impugn my honor just once more, I will forget you are a lord and make it so your body will never be found. Is this in any way unclear?”