Chapter One #2
Christin didn’t want to agree or disagree.
These men were the greatest minds in the land, just like her father, and she wasn’t so arrogant as to believe she could match wits or opinions with them.
So, she simply smiled, without humor, the flash of a smile that was noncommittal because, truly, she had no business giving Alexander her opinion.
But as she stared at the man and he stared back, she realized one thing –
His eyes were hypnotic.
She was looking into greatness. She knew that.
Alexander de Sherrington was a name she’d heard for the past year, solidly, to the point where even Peter had built Alexander up into something legendary.
She didn’t know what to expect when she finally met him, perhaps a marble god from the top of the Parthenon, but she’d never expected the man to be such a handsome beast. It had been difficult for her to take her eyes from him since the moment she met him.
Something about him was dark, delicious, and enticing.
But he was far beyond her reach. She knew that. Men like Alexander de Sherrington didn’t attach themselves to women in any way because their vocation was their wife and mistress. They were men of warfare and death, and what was she?
Absolutely nothing.
In fact, Christin knew that she’d probably said too much already in this meeting even though The Marshal had been kind about it.
Still… throughout this entire gathering, she had the distinct feeling that she’d made a mistake when she killed the French agent.
Perhaps a more experienced agent would not have, realizing the French agent would have been a valuable prisoner.
It was a mistake that was starting to haunt her.
As she sat there and pondered the greater implications of her actions, The Marshal suddenly barked.
“Bric,” he said sharply.
Bric stepped out of the shadows. “My lord?”
William turned to look at him. “You are heading back to Narborough, are you not?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Then you will ride with Peter and Lady Christin back to Norwich first,” he said.
“I want you to inform Old Daveigh de Winter of what we have discovered so he knows what is happening. The king will be under the man’s roof and he should know if we suspect turmoil.
Then you will continue on to Narborough and tell his nephew, Young Daveigh, what is happening.
When John’s feast occurs, I expect you and your liege to be there. ”
Bric nodded shortly. “Aye, my lord.”
With that directive given, William turned to speak to the last knight in the room. “De Lara?”
Kevin de Lara stepped forward, almost hidden back in the recesses where he’d been waiting.
He wasn’t as tall as some of the men around him, making it easier to overlook him, but that was a mistake.
He had the strength of Samson. There wasn’t a man in that room who would voluntarily tangle with him, trained assassins included.
Kevin wasn’t an assassin or a dirty dealer like Alexander or Maxton; quite the contrary.
He was a knight to the bone, pious and noble.
Kevin was the group’s white knight.
“My lord?” he answered.
William’s gaze lingered on the powerful knight. “You will be going with them, as well,” he said. “Along with Sherry and Peter and Bric, I will need your eyes and ears on what is going on at Norwich. This means you may be forced to interact with your brother. Can you do this?”
Kevin’s expression didn’t change, but those who knew what William meant were all thinking the same thing – beneath Kevin’s professional facade was the fact that his older brother, Sean de Lara, had defected into the service of King John had built himself a frightening and brutal reputation as a knight known as Lord of the Shadows.
At least, that was what everyone thought. But those in The Marshal’s inner circle, including Kevin, knew the truth.
Sean was The Marshal’s greatest weapon.
It was no secret that Kevin was greatly disappointed in the path his talented brother had taken, choosing to damage the family’s reputation by taking on such a brutal task.
It was something Kevin disagreed with wholeheartedly but, professional as he was, he never spoke a word of it.
He would die before revealing what he knew about his brother, so the secret was safe.
But the pain of the estrangement was real.
Therefore, no one really spoke of Sean de Lara to Kevin, so for William to bring it up openly was something that simply wasn’t done. Alexander, in particular, was close to Sean, though not unsympathetic with Kevin, and he watched the knight’s reaction as William brought up the forbidden subject.
“I will, and can, do all that is required of me, my lord,” Kevin said easily.
Not that there had been any doubt, but William still wanted to hear it from Kevin. “Very well,” he said. “You will go with them to Norwich. Stay sharp. In fact, all of you stay sharp. If there is a threat under our noses, we must discover what it is.”
Those heading to Norwich nodded, but it was Alexander who spoke for the group. “Aye, my lord.”
“Leave us now,” William said, waving his hand at them. “I will be following shortly to Norwich, but do not wait for me. I will see you there. Sherry, this is your mission. You are in command.”
As Alexander nodded and headed out with the others, William turned his attention to Maxton and Kress.
“Now,” he said. “Pull up a chair and let us discuss what to do with Prescombe.”
With that, his attention was diverted and those heading to Norwich quit the chamber.
Alexander, Peter, Kevin, Bric, and Christin headed down the mural stairs to the lower level of the great townhouse, which was a fortress unto itself.
It was big and square, with the lower levels being the kitchens and a dormitory for visiting knights and soldiers, and the upper floors being where The Marshal and his family lived.
“I will take my sister to The Duck and Dribble over on Lombard Street,” Peter said. “I’ve already sent our baggage on ahead, so you can find us there in the morning.”
Alexander was right behind him. “Very well,” he said. “We’ll head down to The Pox on Ropery Street. That will give us a bit of entertainment before we have to head north into the wilds of Norfolk.”