Page 10 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood
A deafening silence followed the shocking declaration.
Rowena had not expected such an uncompromising answer, she had only meant to mock William, but now he was telling her he had killed someone, years before he had murdered her stepfather. A shiver went down her spine. The man in front of her was capable of killing men as easily as she plucked flowers and feel no remorse over it.
“Who was he?” she whispered, afraid of finding out.
A shadow passed over William’s face. “My overlord.”
His overlord .
Her heart jumped into her throat. She’d not expected his victim to be a man of such importance.
“How could you do such a thing?”
His hazel eyes became hard. “I would never have killed him had he not been determined to kill me first. You might argue that I was only defending myself.”
“Why would he want to kill you?”
“Because he found me in bed with his wife.”
Rowena’s mouth fell opened. This was getting worse and worse. Though she had seen him run his sword through Godric, she was shocked to discover the depths of William’s depravity.
“I know how it must appear,” he interposed before she said anything. “But believe me, I had mitigating circumstances.”
“I’m sure you did.” She breathed deep and, despite herself, took a step back. Had she made a mistake in lowering her guard? Was he nothing more than a ruthless killer after all?
He shrugged, not the action of a dangerous beast about to pounce. Her fear abated somewhat.
“The Comte du Vallon never paid his wife any attention, so it is hardly surprising that she would find men who did,” he started to explain. “I would never have dreamed of approaching someone like her, but she pursued me relentlessly. She was a beautiful woman, determined to have me. Though I have since become more adept at resisting temptation, she was the first woman to behave thus toward me. I confess I was overwhelmed.” A pause. “So I gave her what she wanted.”
“You dishonored your overlord?” She was not surprised to hear that he attracted women like flowers attract butterflies, but she did not want to dwell on the flutter of unease the idea had provoked inside her.
“I did what any young man of seventeen would have done in my place.”
“Seventeen… My God, you killed a man aged seventeen?” She felt her blood turn cold in her veins. Just how many men had he killed? “How monstrous.”
“Says the woman who came to my bed armed with a dagger.”
His temper had quickly returned but Rowena refused to be intimidated. “That is not the same and you know it. I never owed you my respect. I did not humiliate you beforehand by bedding your spouse.”
William uncrossed his arms and gripped her shoulders once more. “Enough. If you want to judge me, you should at least know all the facts.”
“I do not—”
“But I will tell you all the same, and you will listen.”
She flinched. He had never spoken to her so harshly. It seemed she would have no choice but to listen to his story.
“One day the comtesse insisted I should make love to her in her own bed. Foolishly, I agreed. The comte walked in on us in a, shall we say, compromising position. He flew into a rage.”
“It’s difficult to blame him,” Rowena exclaimed, trying to move away. He did not let her go. “He was the injured party, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, he was.”
The flat tone made it clear he agreed with her to prevent an unnecessary argument, not because he thought she was right. This lack of empathy with a man he had wronged—and subsequently killed—chilled her to the bone. She had hoped to see at least a sign of regret. But evidently William de la Falaise could kill a man and think nothing of it.
She shivered. How had she ever thought herself safe with him?
“He threw me out. I barely had time to pick up my clothes. He never said anything to me, he simply threw me out. I wanted to stay and face my responsibilities, but there was no chance to do so.”
The ominous voice was less than reassuring. “And?”
“After I had left the room I heard a scream, a scream like I had never heard before.” William looked into the distance. The same gleam as before passed in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice had lost its usual warm quality. It was ghostlike. “I rushed back inside the room. My esteemed overlord, the injured party, the man it would be hard to blame, was beating his wife with the obvious intention of killing her. She was curled up on the floor, naked, and he kicked her as viciously as he would have kicked at an animal he meant to torment. She was with child at the time.”
Rowena gave a whimper of horror. The hands at her shoulder tightened their grip even further but she barely felt it. William planted his gaze into hers. Unable to sustain the intensity of the moment she lowered her head to the floor.
“You seem so sure of what’s right and wrong so tell me, should I have walked away? Should I have let the man kill his wife?”
“No, of course not,” she whispered.
He nodded, as if satisfied with her reaction. “I stepped between them, and in the fight that ensued, I sent him reeling backward. His head hit the table behind him, and he fell to the floor, unconscious. He died the next day, never having regained consciousness. I cannot be sure I would have killed him if he had not fallen first, but I might have been forced to.” William sounded grim. “He would certainly not have stopped until he had killed me, for he wanted to kill his wife, and I was the one obstacle preventing him from doing so.”
“But… How on earth were you accused of murdering him then? As you said, you were only defending the comtesse, and you did not mean to kill him.”
“Nobody believed my version of events when confronted with another.”
“How was there another version?” Rowena frowned. He’d just said the man had died without having regained consciousness. “There was no one else in the room with you.”
“There was one other person,” he answered levelly.
“Yes, the comtesse but…” She stopped as the reality of what he was saying dawned on her. In a calm voice, he confirmed her suspicions.
“She accused me of killing her husband, making it imperative for me to flee the country.”
“But you had just saved her life!” Rowena cried, stirred into anger by the unfairness of the accusation. “It was not as if you had killed her husband in cold blood, and anyway, his death was clearly an accident.”
“I am gratified to see you have come to consider my situation more sympathetically.” His fingers relaxed their grip on her shoulders. “The comtesse had planned the whole thing. Her husband walking in us was no accident. She had arranged it that way. We had never met in her room, but she had hinted that she wanted to many times. One day I relented, fool that I was.”
“But she put herself into incredible danger in doing so.”
“Yes, that was her mistake. She miscalculated her husband’s reaction. She thought he would lunge at me in anger, a reasonable assumption to make. Of course, I would have defended myself, and as I was younger, fitter, it was not difficult to guess I could have injured or killed him. Instead, he let me go and took out his anger on her. If I had not come back, I have no doubt that she would have been killed.”
“I cannot believe anyone would do something like this,” she murmured.
“I told you she had pursued me relentlessly. Now you know why. As I said, I gave her exactly what she wanted. Her freedom. She never really wanted me, what she wanted was someone to kill her husband. She must have thought I would be capable of doing it, even though he was my overlord. She must have seen I would be unable to resist my urges if she came to me, and she was right. I could not see past my desire for a beautiful woman, and the respect I owed my overlord did not stop me.”
William ran a hand through his hair. He seemed disappointed with himself.
“What about the child?”
“The child died. The comtesse lost it the same evening, no doubt due to the beating she received,” he answered in a clipped voice.
“I’m sorry.”
He regarded her curiously, as if he had not expected her to feel sorry for him. Then he gave a sigh.
“The babe wasn’t mine. She told me so after her husband had died. She had another lover, one she planned to marry after her mourning period. The babe was his. Once I had done what I had been selected for, namely killing the comte, I was to be disposed of. I managed to flee to the coast before I was arrested. My brother Stéphane had followed Duke Guillaume to England ten years previously, urging me many times to come and make the most of the opportunity for myself.”
“So your official story is partially true.” Rowena managed a wan smile.
“Yes. I had never thought to set a foot on your island before, but suddenly the prospect was not without its merits,” William said wryly, continuing to gaze at her. “So you see, I was not lying when I told you I believe women can be as ruthless as men, just as vindictive, clever, and manipulative. I learned it the hard way.”
“Yes.” Women like her, he meant, determined to kill him.
“I’m not taking any chances with you. I found you in my bed, dagger in hand, or near enough. I would be a fool not to take that threat seriously.”
She did not contradict him. “What happened to the Comtesse du Vallon and her lover?” she asked instead.
“I do not know, nor do I care.” His jaw clenched. “What do you think then? Next time someone asks me why I am here in England, shall I tell them the truth?”
“No,” she answered without hesitation. “You had better stick to your version of being a man in search of an opportunity.”
“Yes,” he said with a faint smile. “I think I will.”
*
From his observation point on the palisade William saw a woman dressed in green cross over the bridge. He stiffened, his attention immediately caught. The graceful figure could only belong to one person. The Saxon girl had claimed to have no secret assignments, no master, yet here she was again, sneaking away for the second time in two days.
Before he could think about his actions, he set out after her.
She headed straight for the forest, which he had not expected. This was an unlikely place for a meeting, be it with a lover or a fellow conspirator. Was she telling the truth after all?
He was surprised to see her stop by the river next, even more to see her sit on the ground and start removing her shoes and stockings. Her small, white feet offered a pleasant contrast against the green blades of grass, whilst her emerald gown blended into the meadow, making the fire in her hair stand out like a beacon.
Gingerly, she went into the water, lifting her hem as she went, before tucking it into her girdle to keep it dry. The sight of her legs so daringly exposed could have been provoking, but it was instead strangely moving. Because she thought herself alone, she behaved in an artless way that made her even more irresistible. When she reached a spot of sunshine, she lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes in a gesture that had become familiar to him.
After a while she opened her eyes and looked at her left hand, making her fingers waggle. The metal caught a sunray and caused the ring to wink at him. Maybe she had told the truth about having found it in the river, after all she was not a woman prone to lying. She had never pretended she didn’t want to kill him. And if she indeed had a lover, as he had accused her of having, he was sure she’d have flaunted his existence in his face and warned him to let her go before the man came to find her.
With effortless grace, she walked back to the riverbank. The icy water must have numbed her legs, for she sat down and rubbed them energetically. William afforded a smile when he remembered how cold her feet always were in bed. By rights tonight they would be freezing.
When she was satisfied, she lay back on the grass and gazed at the sky for a while, shielding her eyes with her hand. Then, incredibly, as if lulled by the peaceful atmosphere, the girl turned to her side and settled for a sleep without even checking her surroundings. She was alone, unarmed, and utterly unafraid.
Was she so tired she needed to sleep during the day? For the first time he wondered whether she didn’t stay awake in bed next to him at night, in fear of what he might do, then he shook his head. No. Every morning when he woke, she was asleep, as abandoned as a child. She might have preferred to have a room of her own, but she was not afraid of him.
When it became obvious she had indeed fallen asleep, William wondered what to do next. He had followed her to ascertain her destination, and he had done that. Now that he had established she was not plotting with anyone, he should go.
A branch snapped in the distance, and all thoughts of leaving were forgotten. Someone was coming. Had he been right to be suspicious? Had she come here to meet with someone?
He took a few steps toward the sleeping girl, careful to remain hidden from view.
Two young men emerged into the clearing and stopped in their tracks when they saw her lying on the ground. They looked at each other in alarm, perhaps fearing she was dead. Then they smiled at each other when they realized she was only asleep. The smallest one took a few silent steps toward her and winked at his friend.
William stayed crouched low, invisible behind the trees. He could read the man’s unguarded face like a book. The scoundrel’s gaze roved all over the girl’s body, a hungry expression coloring his features. The corners of his mouth lifted in a sinister grin. He said something to his friend, then, hand on his hose, he stepped forward.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” William growled, emerging from his hiding place. “Not if you want to have children one day.”
The youth gave a startled cry and retreated hastily. It occurred to him that he probably didn’t understand his language, but it mattered not. William’s stern tone would have made his meaning clear, as would the hand on the hilt of his sword. He was not to touch the girl.
He leaned back against the tree to indicate he would not pursue the men any further if they made the right decision and left her alone.