She Owns the Knight (33 page)

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Authors: Diane Darcy

Tags: #Medieval Time Travel

BOOK: She Owns the Knight
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“Come now. Peace,” he said softly. “You do own me. Heart and soul. I am yours for the taking.”

She visibly softened and, after a moment, relaxed against him as he held her close. “And I am yours,” she said softly.

“Aye. You are here. Nothing else matters. I will do whatever it takes to keep you.”

She finally slid her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He pulled her close, determined that nothing would ever separate them again.

Chapter Thirty-Three
 

Sir Robert Royce smirked as he stepped from behind the trees. Watching the lovers reunite and knowing it would only last a short while filled him with an almost joyful rush of power.

He clapped approvingly as he walked forward. “How amusing, how very charming. ’Tis simply too precious for words.”

He motioned and two of his men rushed forward and grabbed Kellen, who shoved Gillian behind him. While the three men scuffled, Kellen landing several blows and driving one guard to his knees, the third guard moved past them and grabbed Gillian. She wrenched away, ran, and the young guard barely caught her again, holding tight to her arm as she slapped him repeatedly with her free hand.

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, 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,” said Gillian. “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, clutching at their faces.

Confused, Robert stopped, then took a step away from Gillian, 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.

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 Royces’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 making 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, astonished.

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