Free To Tempt a Knight by Gerri Russell Page A

something new.”
    Her smile broadened. “Is that what I’m feeling in the pit of my stomach?”
    Her face was alight with laughter, and he found himself caught and held by the sight. He wanted to reach out and touch her cheek, to share that joy, to immerse himself in it.
    To do so would be playing with fire. He needed to keep his distance, to stay objective. His life had one purpose now, and that had nothing to do with personal ful-fillment. He couldn’t take the loss of one more person he cared about. He’d had more than enough loss in his life already. Anything more would devour him whole.
    He wouldn’t dwell on that. He couldn’t. He clenched his fist and turned away without touching her face. “Come. Brother Kenneth will be in the refectory about now. He’ll have the answers we need.”

Chapter Seven
    At the door of the refectory, Siobhan paused, forcing William to do the same. “What if Brother Kenneth cannot decipher the code?” Siobhan asked, suddenly filled with doubts.
    William’s face was pale, but determination shone in his eyes. “Let the man attempt to read the symbols before you start worrying about the future.” He opened the door, then stood back for her to enter.
    Siobhan frowned into the semidarkness. He was right. She need not borrow trouble. They already had enough with de la Roche and his troops at their heels.
    With a nod, she stepped into the chamber. The savory scents of roasted mutton and onions filled her senses. A bright, cheerful fire illuminated the room, revealing several long tables with benches neatly tucked beneath them. Clean, fresh rushes covered the floor. At the far end of the chamber, Brother Kenneth sat with another man dressed in a monk’s robes. The two were bent over a sheaf of papers. At their approach, both men straightened. Brother Kenneth shuffled the papers to the side, then pressed them into the younger monk’s hands. With a quick bow to Kenneth and to Simon, who was on the opposite side of the room, the monk excused himself and brushed past them without a word in his haste for the door.
    William tensed beside her as he watched the manleave. Brother Kenneth’s voice boomed. “Good evening, milady.” The older monk turned to William with a frown. “Are you well enough to be walking about?”
    “I’m quite recovered.” After another swift glance at the door, William guided Siobhan to sit beside Brother Kenneth.
    At his touch, her stomach tensed. She found a place on the bench and clutched the tartan-covered scroll in her lap in an effort to settle whatever suddenly ailed her. William sat across the table from her.
    Simon came to join them. “You look improved,” he said, seating himself next to Siobhan.
    “Brother Kenneth, we need your help,” William said.
    The old monk studied the three of them, his face unreadable. “If it takes three of you to ask me, then it must be serious.”
    “Deadly serious.” William cast a glance about the room, as though ensuring that only the four of them remained. He nodded to Siobhan. She placed the tartan cloth upon the wooden table, then unwrapped the leather casing. An unnatural stillness fell between them as she removed the scroll and spread it upon the table.
    Brother Kenneth sat back, his gaze moving between the scroll and William. “What are you all involved in?” He shook his head. “This is Brother John’s handwriting, his code…”
    His words trailed off as his gaze came to rest on Siobhan. He searched her face, his expression dark. “You are his daughter.”
    A chill chased up her arms at the mention of her father as Brother John. “I am.”
    He drew a sharp breath. “De la Roche is after the scroll. That’s why he attacked you, Brother William and Lady Siobhan.”
    William nodded. “De la Roche is after all the Templarswho hide in this country.” William paused before continuing, his expression grave. “He also wants the Holy Lance.”
    Brother Kenneth paled. He leaned closer to the scroll. His