Chapter Ten #2
“I did not want you to do anything dishonorable,” she said softly. “I suppose… I suppose that I simply needed to know that the attraction I felt between us when we first met was not my imagination. I simply wanted to know that it was real.”
“It was real.”
“I have never known that before, you know,” she murmured. “My poems speak of love and attraction, but I have never known it myself. I told you that. Until I met you, it was all mostly theory, but now I have experienced it.”
He looked at her, then. “And how does it feel, knowing we cannot act upon this attraction that comes so easily between us?”
Cadelyn stared him a moment, inspecting his face; his square jaw covered by the blond beard, his straight nose, and big, blue eyes.
Reaching out, she put her palm against his cheek, an impulsive gesture that had him closing his eyes, tightly.
But he didn’t pull away. He kept his eyes closed as she cupped his face, running it gently along his scratchy beard, exploring his face in a gesture that was as tender as it was poignant.
“I want to buy my freedom,” she whispered. “If William Marshal wants ninety marks for this contract, then I shall find a way to give him ninety marks.”
Kress sighed sharply, putting his hand over hers as she gently caressed his cheek. “You cannot do it, my lady. He will not accept it.”
“Then I shall refuse to marry Ellesmere.”
“You cannot.”
“I would rather commit myself to the church than marry him. Is that plain enough for you?”
His eyes opened and he looked at her. “If you commit yourself to the church, then you shall marry no one,” he said. “I would not be able to marry you in that case.”
“I am not asking you to. But I cannot, and will not, marry Ellesmere.”
“Is it not better to be the wife of a great earl than a postulate locked away in a cloister?”
“Nay.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you are not the man to touch me, then no man shall.”
His features, usually so unemotional, flickered with sorrow. “You cannot put that burden upon me,” he said. “It is not fair.”
Cadelyn dropped her hand from his face. “I am not trying to burden you,” she said.
“I am simply stating a fact. Up until a few months ago, my life at Castle Rising was light and carefree for the most part, and all I had to do was worry over was completing my chores and sneaking into town to deliver Yerik my poems. I had always hoped to find a man to marry, a man I could love and who could love me in return, but then I received the news that I was to be married into the House of de Shera. I never asked for it; I did not want it. I had put it out of my mind. Then, I met a handsome knight who looked upon me with eyes that glimmered and told me I was beautiful. He filled my heart with joy, and if that is the only time in my life that I ever feel such a thing, I am content. I was not meant to feel that with anyone else.”
It was such a heartbreaking thing to say, something that broke through any remaining barriers Kress had up.
Those imaginary stones he’d put up between them had just been kicked down in their entirety, and he lifted a hand to gently cup her face, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek with warmth and tenderness and sadness.
It was a beautiful, sweet gesture.
“You may,” he whispered hoarsely, looking her in the eye.
“But I would be lying if I said I hope you do. Selfishly, I hope it is only, and always, with me. But you are to marry a man you may very well find attraction with and if you do, then I hope you will look upon our moment in the sun with fondness and mayhap some sorrow for what could have been.”
Cadelyn was feeling his gentle kiss all the way to her bones. Her heart was racing madly and all she wanted to do was throw her arms around the man and hold him close.
“I cannot feel for anyone else what I feel for you,” she said.
“I swore, even as a child, that I would only give my heart once. Ever since I saw that servant woman and the stable groom kiss in that clandestine meeting, when they parted so painfully. They did not give their hearts easily; I could tell. I swore I never would, either, but it seems I have given it to a man I can never have.”
Kress didn’t know what to say. He simply pursed his lips sadly and dropped his gaze, unable to look her in the eye and see the longing there.
He wanted so badly to respond but if he did, he knew all would be lost. He wouldn’t be strong enough to resist her if he gave in to her feelings and he was very close to doing so.
Dropping his hand from her silken skin, he reached out to take her hand and hold it tightly.
“I wish things were different,” he said huskily. “I wish I could take you away from here.”
“And marry me?”
He smiled faintly; he couldn’t help it. “My lady, you know nothing about me. Don’t you think you should before you believe you want to be my wife?”
She looked at him curiously. “What more do I need to know? You are a strong, noble knight from a good family, and you are kind and compassionate. There is nothing more I need to know.”
He squeezed her hand. “Since we are being honest about things, then I shall be completely honest with you when it comes to my past,” he said.
“You know I went to The Levant, where I served for the duration of King Richard’s campaign.
I was part of a very elite group of knights who acted above and beyond the call of duty.
This meant we carried out missions from the Christian commanders that other knights would not undertake. Missions that were considered… dark.”
She was listening to him intently. “Dark? What do you mean?”
“Assassinations,” he said without hesitation. “If there was a dirty job to do, then my colleagues and I would do it. There were three of us – Achilles, whom you have met, and another knight named Maxton of Loxbeare. In fact, the Muslims had a name for us.”
“What was it?”
“Faris aljalaad.”
“What does that mean?”
“The Executioner Knights.”
She blinked as his words sank in. “Truly?” she said, awed. “I find that fascinating. Did you do terrible, terrible things?”
Kress had hoped to scare her a little, perhaps take the dreamy glow from her eyes as she thought of him as a strong, noble knight, but it didn’t work. She appeared even more interested than she had before.
“Aye,” he said. “Terrible enough.”
“Like what?”
“Those are not things I will discuss with a lady,” he said.
“Suffice it to say that I have committed enough sin that on the day of my death, Lucifer will know me on a first-name basis. The Christians used to call my colleagues and me the Unholy Trinity, in fact, so that should tell you what kind of reputations we earned for ourselves. If there was something terrible that needed to be done, we would do it.”
Cadelyn was fascinated by his past. “That simply means that you are devoted to your duty,” she said. “You did what you were ordered to do. That does not make you wicked.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Nay, it does not, but you should not hold any illusions that I am a fine, pious knight. If William Marshal ordered me to snap a man’s neck, I would do it without hesitation.
Even if that man was a priest. I do what I am told to do and I hold no personal feelings in the matter. ”
“What if he told you to snap my neck?”
He looked at her, a smile spreading across his lips. Reaching up, he put his big hand around her throat, so big that it covered up her neck. He snorted softly.
“It is too pretty a neck,” he said.
Cadelyn was oddly serious. “But if I refuse to go through with this betrothal, he might tell you that. What then?”
Kress dropped his hand, the smile fading from his lips. “I would not worry about that if I were you,” he said, “because you are not going to refuse the betrothal.”
She opened her mouth in protest. “I told you that…”
He held up a hand, cutting her off. “Let me finish,” he said.
“I want you to understand the importance of this mission and of this betrothal before you make your decision. You see, this entire mission was entrusted to me. I was told to take you to your betrothed. That is my personal mission; to ensure you make it. Now, if I fail to do so, that would damage my reputation and everything I have worked so hard for. Men would hear of this, men I respect, and they would doubt my abilities as a knight and as a man of my word. If you refuse this betrothal, my lady, then I have failed. It is as simple as that. It would ruin me.”
Doubt crossed her face as she thought on that. “I would not want to ruin you,” she said. “But I will not marry the earl.”
“If you do not marry him, I will have failed.”
She sat back and folded her arms over her chest, a defiant gesture that didn’t have much power to it. It was symbolic more than anything. She eyed him, brow furrowed, as she thought on the situation as he presented it.
“Well,” she said reluctantly, “if you were considered a failure, what would you do? Where would you go?”
He sat back, realizing his head, which had only been mildly aching until this point, was beginning to throb. He rubbed at his neck as he genuinely considered her question.