Wildewood Revenge (22 page)

“No, not worse, just more complicated.” He reached out a hand and let it play down her bare arm, caressing gently. She’d been so convincing, as she played the coquette with Mayflower, it unsettled him. Aware she had secrets, he wasn’t sure whether they should concern him or not. Truth was
,
he’d more than enough to worry about without adding Grace to the list. He watched her eyes widen as he let his fingers stray to the nape of her neck and she inclined her head with a soft sigh. He still didn’t know the full truth about her, wondered whether what she’d told Mayflower was in fact the truth and she was in some way
connected to Hugh. He thought it unlikely, sure he would have known of her, would perhaps have met her in Normandy and he was sure he’d never had that pleasure. He lowered his hand and hooked a finger in the front of her vest.

“Come here.” He pulled her gently and she placed her arms around his waist, her head on his chest. “We just need to be careful,” he whispered hoarsely as he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. Very careful he added silently.

He moved his mouth to her ear, “Tell me Mademoiselle; are you...well this morning?”

Grace smiled. “You mean did I survive that incredible night of wild passion with yours truly?”

“Yes, but more particularly did you enjoy it?”

“Mm I suppose so,” she pondered with deliberate slowness. “I expect I’ll need to repeat it though...just to be sure.” She squeaked as he grabbed her.

“We’ll see what we can do about that later, but first I have things to do.”

“You always have things to do.”

“I need to be ready for Gerard’s next move.”

“No, we need to be ready for his next move,” replied Grace.

Miles sobered, restrained his imagination with difficulty and concentrated on what he needed to do rather than what he wanted to do. She really had no idea, and may well have been brought up in a convent for her alarming lack of common sense.

“Ever killed a man, Grace?”

“Of course not.”

“Do you suppose you could if it were necessary?”

“No I don’t.”

“I think you could,” said Miles. He stroked her cheek gently with his palm.

Grace swatted his hand away. “That’s rubbish. No one is going to get killed, least of all by me. I’m just a girl, not a soldier, I couldn’t kill anyone. And I wouldn’t want to.”

“Not even to save your own life?”

“No,” replied Grace determinedly.

“Not even if it meant saving someone close to you?”

“Absolutely not.”
She pushed at him. “You don’t need me to save you!”

She’d thought of him first as the, someone close to her, he liked that. “You’re correct I can look after myself. I was thinking more of Linus or Edmund; could you kill to save them?”

Grace shrugged. “No - I don’t know. Who would want to kill a babe like Linus?”

Miles sobered instantly. “Hmm, you would be surprised.”

“I wouldn’t know how to,” continued Grace

“You could use the knife you took from Edmund.”

“How did you...?”

Miles shook his head.

“Grace, Grace I know all your little secrets.” He caught the almost smug look that flitted across her face and accepted reluctantly that his statement was probably far from the truth. “What did you plan to do with it?” he asked.

Grace stared at him, guilt colouring her cheeks in an alluring way. He was momentarily distracted by the notion of how interesting it would be to persuade the truth out of her. He cleared his throat and
continued. “The knife, what did you plan to use it for?”

“I don’t know, I just thought it was a good idea at the time,” replied Grace hesitantly.

“You took it because you feared for your life and thought you might need a weapon to protect yourself...yes?”

“I suppose so.”

Miles smiled. “Maybe you had a mind to protect yourself from wayward knight’s...and that’s how I know if you really had to, you could kill. All I need to do is teach you how.”

“Are things really so serious?” Grace asked. “Can’t you just talk to Gerard, explain it’s all a mistake?”

“It’s gone beyond that I’m afraid. I have a score to settle with Gerard. I’ve waited a long time and he knows I must have my revenge. He’ll use any means possible to avoid it, including using you to get to me. If he didn’t believe you to be a spy, then he would manufacture some other reason to involve you. As I’ve said he’s a dangerous man, and now he has some equally dangerous allies.”

“Who,
Philibutt
?”

Miles shook his head.

“Mayflower may have the ear of the church, which carries some element of risk, but the only thing in real danger from him, is his pony which is at risk of being crushed beneath his incredible bulk. No, Gerard has Guy of
Marchant
and his entourage on side, Guy’s men escorted Mayflower this morning and no doubt they are at this very moment discussing their next move.”

“Tell me about Guy?”

“It’s a long story.
I’ll give you the abridged version.”

Miles stepped away from her and leaned casually against the back of
the door.  “Guy is a bully. His family own half of Lincolnshire. I first met him in Palestine, we didn’t get on. We are not cut from the same cloth. There’s something about him, that’s difficult to explain. He’s not quite right; he has a predilection for cruelty particularly where small boys are concerned. We had a difference of opinion over Edmund, and settled our disagreement at the tournament. Guy was well and truly beaten.”

He smiled at the recollection. The picture of Guy
,
unseated from his horse and humiliated, was one to savour. “Did I mention
,
he’s also a poor loser? The king was present at the tournament. Guy was therefore hon
our-
bound to hand the boy over, but he was not enamoured. He festered for over a year until he could stand it no longer. On our return home through Normandy he and his merry band ambushed us. Took everything I’d earned and the few treasures I’d managed to collect.” He recalled the amber necklace; it would have been perfect around her neck. “He thought he’d killed me, would have too, if it weren’t for Hugh. That man always manages to be exactly where he’s needed, thank God.”

“Is that how you got your scar?” Grace asked. Stepping close, she smoothed his shirt away from his warm skin and he felt her fingers gently trail across his puckered flesh.

“Guy’s sword.
T
he cowardly son of a she-devil attacked at night. He didn’t give me the chance to draw a weapon. He w
ould have skewered Edmund also
if the lad hadn’t the presence of mind to hide. Edmund sought help, sent a message to Hugh. Hugh is remarkably skilled in the healing arts.”

Grace paused to consider. “Okay, so on the one hand we’ve got Guy, the child molester who made the mistake of trying to kill you, and on the other Gerard who hates you because...?”

Miles sighed. “Gerard is a complicated person. He doesn’t like to think a bastard could have him hanged. He killed my mother, I saw him do it and I intend to have my revenge.”

“Will you kill him?”

“Eventually.
One way or another he’ll pay for what he’s done. He’s worried now I’ve acquainted myself well with the king, Edward will concur when I proclaim his guilt. He sees the fact the king has given me title of
Wildewood
as a sign of his own disfavour. He’s deranged.” He tapped his head. “A little touched, and by all accounts he hasn’t matured as he’s got older. There are probably a fair few people who would enjoy the sight of him dangling at the end of a rope.”

“Are all the men you know like this?” asked Grace. Despair flitted unchecked across her face.

“You mean, are they all ruthless killers with no moral code?”

“Something
like
that.”

“Most of them are ruthless killers, but the ones I count as trusted friends all know right from wrong. You’d like them if you met them.”

“Is it likely I’ll meet them?”

“I’ve sent a message but can’t be sure they’ll get it, there are complications. I think we should assume we hold
Wildewood
alone.”

“So it is serious.”

“Truthfully, I cannot be certain, but we plan for the worst.”

“Is that the soldier talking?”

“It’s the soldier who came back from the crusades in one piece. I think I know what I’m talking about.”

Chapter Twenty Four

Within the chest, hidden within the folds of linen were the things Grace had brought with her from home. The matches, half a packet of chewing gum, a safety pin, half a packet of sunflower seeds and the remains of a roll of red electricians’ tape, a very ripe apple and Edmund’s knife. She felt Miles’ steady gaze on her back as she pulled out the knife and re-covered the other things. She wondered if he’d discovered her stash, and what he would make of the strange assortment.

“What do I do with this?” she asked as she held it aloft.

“Not holding it by the blade would be a good start,” he replied.

The knife was small and sharp enough to cut food but scarcely sharp enough to break the skin. It did however fit perfectly in her small hand and was light enough for her to carry concealed.

Miles took her hand gently and showed her how to hold the knife. “If you need to use this, you can guarantee it will be against someone taller and stronger.”

“Everyone is taller and stronger than I am, I’m used to it.” She remembered how easily he’d held her down on the bed. She’d not found his strength threatening, far from it, she’d found it arousing. She let her gaze travel the length of him, recalling deliciously. Catching his amused expression, she shook the image from her mind.

“Maybe so, but you have proved to be clever, Mayflower will certainly vouch for that, and clever can outwit strong.”

Grace recalled Martha’s account of Miles and Gerard, how he had outwitted the bully.

“I can do Judo,” she offered.

“Pardon?”

“Judo,
self defence
.”
She’d never got beyond blue belt, but remembered being smaller was an advantage.

He shrugged; by his expression he’d no idea what she was talking about. Grace stepped back and beckoned him with her hands.

“Come towards me,” she said. As he stepped forward on his right foot, she turned beneath his centre of gravity and swiftly rolled him over her shoulder on to his back. Miles hit the floor with a thud.

“I think I like Judo.”

Grace grinned, holding out her hand to pull him up. “I thought you might.”

“Okay,” he began with a smile. “Perhaps you’ll get your man on his back but you need to make sure he doesn’t get you on your back. Whoever it is, will have more weight behind them.

Grace’s grin faded, she may have enjoyed being held down by Miles, but he was the exception.

“Lunge upwards with the knife with as much force as you can. Go for the throat.” He reached for her hand, tightened it around the hilt of the knife and forced her hand upwards till the tip touched his throat. Keep pushing even if your assailant gags and you think you have him. Don’t stop till he drops.”

Grace gazed fascinated at the red mark she’d made on Miles’ skin. If the knife had been sharp he would have bled. He pulled up his shirt, moved her hand and aligned the knife with his abdomen.

“If you go for his gut then push the knife up to the hilt, turn it if you can. It still may not kill him, but he’ll fall.” He released her hand and without his guidance the blade trailed slowly and gently down his belly creating a line which matched the shadow of dark hair starting below his navel and disappearing below the waist of his trousers. His muscles
flinched and Grace watched mesmerized, it took considerable
self control
to prevent her hand from following the knife.

Grace tried for a smile and failed. “I don’t know whether I can do this.”

Miles took the knife from her. “We prepare for the worst remember, you may not need to do anything, but if you do, at least now you’ll know what to do. I’ll make sure the knife is sharp, but you must keep it with you. It’s no good to anyone if it’s left in the chest.”

“Unless it’s in his chest of course,” Grace quipped. She felt a sudden hysteria bubbling inside, like the urge to laugh in church, totally inappropriate but irresistible nevertheless.

Miles grinned. “His chest is good, but you’ve got to get between the ribs, like this.” He poked her in the side and she squealed and tried to pull away, laughing. He pulled her back and held her tight against him. “You’ll be fine I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Despite hugging him back, feeling his strength and inhaling his scent, she didn’t feel fine. She was out of her depth and she knew it.

“Just remember, don’t leave the grounds unless you’re with me.”

“Don’t worry I won’t.”