Christin could hear the sorrow in his voice as he spoke of his brothers more in detail. The man had a tortured past that she could not have imagined.
“That was many years ago,” she said. “Does your father know you survived?”
Alexander nodded. “He knows,” he said. “I sent him word in the same missive I told him of Adam and Andrew’s deaths. That’s when… that’s when I ended up serving Richard directly. If there was a dirty mission to be carried out, an assassination to accomplish, I was his man. Me and Maxton and Kress and Achilles, among others. Maxton and Kress and Achilles traveled in a trio, but me… I preferred to work alone. It is better that way.”
Christin wasn’t appalled by the talk. She’d heard it from her father, too, as he had been in The Levant. Unsavory things happened during war and she understood that. But in Alexander’s case, she could see the agony behind his actions.
He had a deeper reason.
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked softly. “None of it matters to me.”
“So you know the kind of man I am.”
“I know the kind of man you are. My father and my brother would not respect you so if you were not a man of character.”
He looked at her as if she’d just said something outlandish. Then, he shook his head. “Sometimes, I wonder if that is true,” he said. “I am a man with a stained past.”
“Are you trying to scare me away? It will not work, you know. I am not easily frightened.”
One moment, Alexander was looking into her lovely face. In the next, she was in his arms. He didn’t know how it happened, only that it had. She was warm and soft in his embrace, something he hadn’t experienced in years, and certainly not like this. Never with someone he was coming to care about. It had been an impulsive move on his part, but not a surprising one. He looked at her, into those big, gray eyes, and knew there was nothing on this earth that could ever force him to let her go.
Ever.
“Cissy,” he said softly, “look at me. Really look at me. You must decide if I am what you truly want, for I will not accept a whim. Mayhap you are infatuated with the rumors you have heard and not the man I truly am. Only you can decide. But if you decide I am the man you want, nothing will stand in my way to make you mine. Not even your father. Will you go against him if he does not approve?”
She was torn between the thrill of being held by him and the truth of his words. “Of course he will approve,” she said. “He has no reason not to.”
“You did not answer my question.”
Her free hand was on his shoulder, moving to his neck. Her fingers brushed against his warm flesh. “Aye,” she murmured. “You are the man I want. I do not make decisions based on whims. I cannot explain it, Sherry… from the moment we met, I felt something for you. Awe, respect, interest… all of those things. And you are devilishly handsome. When you look at me, I feel bolts of lightning course through my veins. But I never imagined you would feel the same way about me.”
With a grin, his lips slanted over hers, kissing her as strongly and deeply as he had ever kissed a woman in his life. As he’d told her, his life had been one of cold duty, so to feel something warm and emotional had him reeling. His hands were in her hair, holding her mouth to his as he feasted on her. He was kissing her so passionately that he heard her gasp, as if he’d been smothering her, so he quickly pulled away, concerned he’d overwhelmed her with what he was feeling.
He was feeling everything.
“You have me,” he whispered, his hands still in her glorious hair. “All of me. But at the moment, we must move you someplace safe until the king leaves Norwich. If he moves against you now… I cannot guarantee that I would not take my own advice.”
She was licking her lips, dazed by the force of his kiss. “What do you mean?”
“I would kill him.”
Christin believed him and it terrified her, perhaps more than the king actually making a move on her. She couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to him because of her. Hand on his face, she kissed his bearded cheek.
“I know,” she said softly. “I have heard there is a nice inn near the cathedral. I shall go there until this is over with.”
He took her satchel from her and grasped her hand. “Come along, then,” he said. “We must hurry.”
He was starting to head out through the main gate and she dug her heels in. “Nay,” she said. “Not that way. There is a gate that leads to the farmlands below. It will be easier to leave through the gate down there and we will not be seen by so many of John’s soldiers.”
Alexander shifted direction. He began to walk, still holding Christin’s hand, passing into the small garden behind the keep. No sooner had he stepped foot into the garden than a massive shadow appeared in his way.
Sean de Lara emerged from the shadows.
Alexander came to a halt and dropped Christin’s hand, facing off against a man that served William Marshal in the capacity of the king’s bodyguard. But it was more than that; if the king ordered Sean to bring him a woman, Sean would do it without question. If the king ordered him to kill a rival, Sean would snap the man’s neck and toss him in the nearest river. Much as Alexander had a terrible reputation for brutality, Sean’s could match it and then some. Alexander’s reputation wasn’t out in the open as much as Sean’s was. Everyone in England feared the man known as Lord of the Shadows.
And here he was.
“Sean,” Alexander greeted steadily. “What finds you out here? Isn’t the king still inside?”
Sean nodded. “He is,” he said, his gaze moving between Alexander and Christin. “Where are you taking the lady?”
Alexander quickly sized up the situation. Sean was a couple of inches taller than he was and built like a bull, but Alexander had the advantage of enormous strength and a sword hand that was better than most. Even though he and Sean were technically on the same side, Alexander was prepared to fight the man in order to remove Christin.
He was prepared to do what was necessary.
“I am taking her away until the king leaves,” he said. “You were in the chamber when the king demanded to dine with her, Sean. Did you really think we would allow it?”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“Me,” Christin stepped forward. She didn’t really know Sean well but she knew his mission. She knew he had to provide the illusion of being loyal to the king above all else. “I will not sup with the king because if he tries to molest me or, God forbid, succeeds, it will bring my father’s wrath. Dealing with the French will be the least of your worries if my father declares war on the crown.”
Sean’s gaze settled on her for a moment before nodding. “I know,” he said simply. “I have told the king the same thing but to no avail. But you should know that this runs deeper than his usual interest in a woman. I am afraid I may not have the opportunity to tell The Marshal when he arrives, so I must tell you, Sherry. All of this runs deeper than you think.”
Alexander wasn’t sure if he was still going to have to fight Sean off, but it didn’t sound like it. At least, not at the moment. He cocked his head curiously.
“Deeper?” he repeated. “Sean, you should know that we had an incident at Ramsbury Castle a few days ago. Has anyone told you about it yet?”