“Andressa?” he asked, sounding worried. “Are you well? Did he hurt you?”
She opened her mouth to answer but no sound would come forth. That blackness that had been threatening since the Scotsman had wrapped his hands around her throat finally claimed her and she pitched forward, right onto Maxton.
In the darkness, there was finally peace.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The night wasdeep and still outside of Farringdon House. But inside, it was full of men who were concerned with the turn of events. The latest drama had been the escaped spy trying to strangle the pledge within shouting distance of Farringdon House, and once the unconscious woman had been brought back to the house and put to bed, Christopher had summoned the remaining men in their tight little circle. Much had happened, and much needed to be discussed, and they had little time in which to do it.
Events were happening too quickly.
Gathered in William’s great solar, it was the same group who had been there at daybreak– Gart, the de Lohr brothers, both de Lara brothers, Cullen, Kress, Achilles, Alexander, and Maxton. Bric MacRohan and Dashiell du Reims, who had still been in London, arrived within an hour of the attempted strangling to round out the group.
There was a sense of expectation now, knowing that the situation was quite fluid. Christopher filled Bric and Dashiell in on the information from Andressa’s first visit to tell Maxton of the nuns’ intentions, which was shocking in and of itself.That made her second appearance at Farringdon House rather worrisome for all concerned. The first time she’d come, it had been with a great revelation to aid their cause, so this second visit had them somewhat anxious.
Why had she been traveling the streets in darkness?
Was there more evil on the horizon?
It was the exact questions lingering in Maxton’s mind as he stood by the hearth, gazing into the yellow flames. He was reliving Douglas’ death over and over, feeling great satisfaction in the man’s ghastly demise. In truth, there had never been any possibility of a different outcome once Maxton saw the man with his hands wrapped around Andressa’s throat. Although Maxton had been killing men in unsavory ways for a very long time, this specific death had been particularly brutal.
There had been something more behind it than simple duty or simple anger.
As Maxton stood there and stewed, the last person to enter the solar made an appearance. William had just come from an unrelated discussion with his advisors, the retinue of men that formed his inner circle. Oddly enough, they were not involved in these proceedings, mostly because William only wanted to deal with a hand-selected group of men and not a gang of followers. He needed knights for this task, not politicians, which most of his inner circle was.
For this, he needed killers.
“Maxton,” he said as he entered the chamber. “I am informed that our guest has returned again.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Where is she now?”
“In bed. After we saved her life, she fainted.”
“And she said nothing to you before she collapsed? No hint of why she has come again?”
Maxton shook his head. “She said nothing,” he said. “By the time we got to her, Douglas had thrashed her fairly well. She was quite shaken.”
“Did you have my physic look at her?”
“He said she is only sleeping now,” Maxton said. “She suffered no lasting damage in the attack.”
William seemed to look at him rather strangely. Then, he chuckled, though it was an ironic sound. “If she did not, the Scotsman certainly did,” he said. “I saw your handiwork, Maxton. Very brutal. You sliced the man from his throat to his groin, then you dismembered him out on the street for all to see. For the first time, I am starting to see why you are called the Executioner Knight. That was an impressive execution.”
Maxton wasn’t thinking of it in those terms. He simply did what he had to do. In truth, he was still angry, still filled with rage at what he’d seen. What he did to Douglas wasn’t half of what he wanted to do, and he’d only stopped because Alexander had prevented him from doing anything more. Alexander had merely slit the man’s throat; Maxton had chopped him into mincemeat, and quite happily so.
He was unapologetic.
“I sent the pieces back to St. Blitha,” he growled. “Kress and Achilles dumped them right on the street outside of the abbey. Mayhap they will think again before they send spies out into the world.”
“You mean after the girl.”
“Take it as you will.”
William could hear the unrepentant tone. “I would be willing to agree with that,” he said. “But the truth is that until we talk to the pledge, we do not even know if they sent him after her in the first place.”
“Of course they sent him after her,” Maxton said, irritated. “There is little doubt that when Douglas escaped fromFarringdon House, he went straight to the sisters at St. Blitha and told them that we are aware of their plans. Where else would the man go?”
