Page 56 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood
“Yes, I wanted revenge, but that is not why I killed your stepfather,” William contradicted immediately. He could tell his explanation had been a blow to her. She hadn’t liked being told that the reason for his plunging his sword into Godric was purely a thirst for revenge.
“I might have killed him there and then had I witnessed the ambush, but I do not believe in cold-blooded murder.” He gave her a half smile. “I understand that you might not believe me, but it’s true.”
She gave him the same rueful half smile. “Yes. But I do believe you.”
They remained with their eyes locked for a very long time. Then he carried on.
“That day at your house, I found out he had been the one betraying us. I had tried to pin the man responsible for the deed for quite some time, and during our discussion, your stepfather inadvertently revealed something which made me understand the role he had played in the ambush in Winchester.”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “I remember picking up on the change of atmosphere between you two at the time.”
William nodded. From the moment he had understood he was talking to an enemy rather than an ally, he had become distinctively colder. The man’s treachery had been responsible for his brother’s death.
“Godric realized I had seen through him, and he started threatening me. As soon as I walked out of the room he would have sent a message to the Saxons who were now eating out of the palm of his hand, demanding my execution for one reason or other. I could not let that happen. I had intended merely to incapacitate him, but he drew his dagger and left me no choice. He would never have let me out of the room alive, and other lives were at stake. I will own that his death did not overly weigh on my conscience, though I should perhaps not tell you as much,” he added in a bid at honesty.
“No, but…” the girl started in a low voice. “Despite the violent manner of it, I would not have been traumatized by his death if it had not been followed by my mother’s ordeal. What I have really tried to avenge all this time was her dishonor and death, not Godric’s murder. That’s why I was not as determined to kill you as I would have been to kill the two men who had attacked her. I focused on you because you were the only one I could find any trace of, but I would never have thought to pursue you had my mother not given me your name with her dying breath.”
Her eyes flicked to his cheek, where he bore the scar of her attack. He wished she didn’t have to see it and be reminded of what she had done. After having heard her story, he hated that she felt guilty about it, because now he knew what had motivated her action, and he could not blame her.
“I am relieved you did not become a murderer on my account,” he said, brushing his finger along her cheek. The skin was softer than silk. “When did you lose your father?”
“When I was very young. I have few memories with him, but I still feel his loss keenly. My mother married Godric when I was ten years old. They never had any children together. I know he was not a faithful husband, but I never heard word of any by blows. It might be that he was unable to father children, which would explain his attitude toward me. He wanted an heir, and my very existence proved the barrenness of his marriage could not be laid at my mother’s door. I think he always resented me for being the proof of his lack of virility. When I grew up, he started to see me differently and understood that I could be a useful tool in his ambition.”
Yes. It made sense, but what a dispiriting childhood picture she painted… William watched her intently, feeling everything she wasn’t saying.
The sadness, the shame, the despair.
“So no, in answer to your question I was not particularly fond of my stepfather. His death did not affect me as much as it perhaps should have, especially now that I know he brought it on himself by his underhanded actions.”
“Yes. That is one way of seeing it,” William agreed.
The girl gave him a long, thoughtful stare. “Why did you ask if I was close to him before telling me the truth? What difference could it possibly make?”
“Because if you’d told me you loved him as a father, I would not have revealed his true nature. Instead, I would have let you think ill of me for killing him in cold blood. It would have been a small price to pay. You have already lost your father and your mother in the most shocking way. I did not want you to lose the good opinion of a man you had come to love and respect.”
*
The extraordinary answer rendered Rowena speechless. This had to be the most selfless, thoughtful act anyone had ever done for her.
She cleared her throat, moved beyond words. “Well, as I said, I was not particularly fond of my stepfather, and I would rather know the truth.”
I would rather have my good opinion of you confirmed.
For days now, she had fought the realization that William was not, in fact, a ruthless killer. This reversal of opinion had happened gradually but inexorably. It was impossible to live in close proximity to a man like him and carry on hating him. Fair and clever, he was a far cry from the dangerous enemy she had taken him for these last eighteen months.
No one else she knew, Norman or Saxon, wanted the two peoples to cohabit together in harmony. It was a noble pursuit. For that if for nothing else, William did not deserve to die. She looked at him squarely, knowing her life was about to change forever. She would put down the burden she had carried for so long and give herself a second chance at life.
“Now I know you killed Godric only to defend yourself and save the lives of others. Now I know you are not responsible for your men attacking my mother. If I had known that from the beginning, I would have…” Her voice died on her lips.
“What are you saying?” William asked softly, keeping very still as if he didn’t want her to bolt. His eyes were aglow with something akin to compassion, and she found that she could not sustain his gaze. “Are you glad you did not kill me after all?”
“Yes.”
“So am I, though I cannot regret you ever trying. We would never have met otherwise.” He took her wrist in a tender gesture.
“You need not fear me anymore.”
Such a declaration could have made him laugh. Certainly, anyone watching him tower over her with his broadshoulders and powerful hands would have found it improbable that she, frail as she was, could ever pose any threat to him.
