Read Online To Tempt a Knight by Gerri Russell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gerri Russell
Tags: Fiction
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when William had returned their bodies for burial. That fact had made the pain of his failureto keep his brothers safe that much worse. Not one soul would have missed him, yet he’d survived.
For what purpose?
He opened his eyes and sought out the crucifix that hung suspended above the altar. “Why?” he whispered. “And why tempt me now with desires I know are at odds with the vows I’ve given you? My vows are all I have left to cling to. My service to you is all I have left.”
He let his words die away into silence, and he prayed once again for that peace to fill him. The only thoughts that filled his mind were of Siobhan, the woman who needed his protection.
A calm came over him. Was that why he’d been saved? Had he been spared—not just from the battle at Teba, but from his uncle’s slaughter as well—for some greater purpose?
William paused, let the thought circle inside him. No great awareness came over him, no dawning moment. He frowned. Why did holy guidance have to be so obscure? At this moment he would prefer booming voices or raining fire—even a burning bush.
With a sigh, he staggered to his feet. He’d have to trust that God would show him the way.
After a final prayer for insight, William turned and left the chapel. He found himself drifting down the corridor of the monk’s dormitory to the room where light spilled from the doorway. Brother Kenneth had given Siobhan William’s old chamber. Leaning against the stone wall for support, he stood in the doorway.
Siobhan sat atop the bed, an oil lamp burning brightly at her side. Deep in thought, she stared down at her father’s scroll. Emotion stirred inside him at the sight of the scroll and—if he was honest with himself—the woman who held it.
Lost to her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed him. Hestudied her, curious about the woman who had so easily changed her father’s dreams. Her father had abandoned everything he’d worked so hard to achieve once he’d learned his daughter was headed for the orphan home. Was there something special about this particular girl?
William pressed his lips together. Was she different from other women? The lamplight turned her red hair a burnished gold as it cascaded over her shoulders. Something inside him stirred to life. He tamped the emotion down with an acknowledgment that her pale skin, red-gold hair and delicate frame gave her an ethereal presence.
And regardless of her slight stature, she had challenged him with the swing of a branch. The corner of his mouth rose in a half smile. Perhaps she was a bit unusual, he’d give her that, but unusual enough to change the course of one’s life purpose? He doubted it.
The room itself brought back dark memories of his past. As a young boy, he’d once had a warm and loving home with his mother and father at Stonehyve Castle. Then his uncle Alasdair had murdered his parents in their bed. William had only escaped with the help of his aging nurse, who’d smuggled him out of the keep and into the courtyard and had hidden him in a pile of hay.
Too terrified to fight his uncle’s warriors, he’d stayed huddled inside the dank and musty hay as the sounds of battle raged around him. Men and women of his clan had lain dead, warriors undone by deceit, women who had tried to defend their homes, their families, slain by another bearing the same clan name. When William had climbed free of his prison of hay, even his nurse lay dead for trying to keep him safe.
William shivered, remembering the metallic scent of blood, the spatters of flesh, of bone, of sweat that had covered the ground. He had crept out of hiding, almostpraying for a blade to strike him down so that he could join his clansmen in the afterlife instead of slinking away to carry on without them.
On unsteady legs, he had stumbled to the gate and slipped into the night. Every breath had set his lungs afire as his world collapsed in upon itself. He would die apart from his people.
He didn’t know how
For what purpose?
He opened his eyes and sought out the crucifix that hung suspended above the altar. “Why?” he whispered. “And why tempt me now with desires I know are at odds with the vows I’ve given you? My vows are all I have left to cling to. My service to you is all I have left.”
He let his words die away into silence, and he prayed once again for that peace to fill him. The only thoughts that filled his mind were of Siobhan, the woman who needed his protection.
A calm came over him. Was that why he’d been saved? Had he been spared—not just from the battle at Teba, but from his uncle’s slaughter as well—for some greater purpose?
William paused, let the thought circle inside him. No great awareness came over him, no dawning moment. He frowned. Why did holy guidance have to be so obscure? At this moment he would prefer booming voices or raining fire—even a burning bush.
With a sigh, he staggered to his feet. He’d have to trust that God would show him the way.
After a final prayer for insight, William turned and left the chapel. He found himself drifting down the corridor of the monk’s dormitory to the room where light spilled from the doorway. Brother Kenneth had given Siobhan William’s old chamber. Leaning against the stone wall for support, he stood in the doorway.
Siobhan sat atop the bed, an oil lamp burning brightly at her side. Deep in thought, she stared down at her father’s scroll. Emotion stirred inside him at the sight of the scroll and—if he was honest with himself—the woman who held it.
Lost to her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed him. Hestudied her, curious about the woman who had so easily changed her father’s dreams. Her father had abandoned everything he’d worked so hard to achieve once he’d learned his daughter was headed for the orphan home. Was there something special about this particular girl?
William pressed his lips together. Was she different from other women? The lamplight turned her red hair a burnished gold as it cascaded over her shoulders. Something inside him stirred to life. He tamped the emotion down with an acknowledgment that her pale skin, red-gold hair and delicate frame gave her an ethereal presence.
And regardless of her slight stature, she had challenged him with the swing of a branch. The corner of his mouth rose in a half smile. Perhaps she was a bit unusual, he’d give her that, but unusual enough to change the course of one’s life purpose? He doubted it.
The room itself brought back dark memories of his past. As a young boy, he’d once had a warm and loving home with his mother and father at Stonehyve Castle. Then his uncle Alasdair had murdered his parents in their bed. William had only escaped with the help of his aging nurse, who’d smuggled him out of the keep and into the courtyard and had hidden him in a pile of hay.
Too terrified to fight his uncle’s warriors, he’d stayed huddled inside the dank and musty hay as the sounds of battle raged around him. Men and women of his clan had lain dead, warriors undone by deceit, women who had tried to defend their homes, their families, slain by another bearing the same clan name. When William had climbed free of his prison of hay, even his nurse lay dead for trying to keep him safe.
William shivered, remembering the metallic scent of blood, the spatters of flesh, of bone, of sweat that had covered the ground. He had crept out of hiding, almostpraying for a blade to strike him down so that he could join his clansmen in the afterlife instead of slinking away to carry on without them.
On unsteady legs, he had stumbled to the gate and slipped into the night. Every breath had set his lungs afire as his world collapsed in upon itself. He would die apart from his people.
He didn’t know how
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