Whispers of the Sea (The Compulsion Bride Series) Book II (Unedited)

Chapter Eight

The King of England was an approachable genteel man, whose desire was to see England and the world, if possible at peace. He was never a man to show his rage, unless on a battlefield, against his enemies. When angered a wise man dare not speak unless spoken to or move without being told.

Commander Mcmillian of the Royal Guards regard himself as a wise man as he stood beside the king, his hat held under one arm, one hand rested casually on his hip as he watched a worried King Darton pace the comfort of his study. The noise of his heavy leather boots thud again the cobble carved flooring like hooves in a stampede, one might think that King Darton of England was a madman and not the true ruler of England by the sort of attitude he was showcasing at the moment.

There should not be a delay with these sort of information when a murderer had been identified. They were captured immediately and punished. Scoundrels that deserve to be hung or worst beheaded. An unnecessarily delay was uncalled for!

Commander Mcmillian teeth clenched together with frustration, He yearned to be on a ship chasing Clairwood to finish every one of them that had tried to ruin him and whose existence was preventing him from sleeping peacefully. Such a pathetic King. The urge to shake his head as he gazes upon the foolish King that was turning his country into a jest was so strong a chill ran up his spine, except he dare not move a muscle, as much of a fool he thought the King of England was, He was not a man to be provoked. A simple twitch of a head would be offensive and Commander Mcmilliam values his head at the moment.

"Are you bloody sure about this!" King Darton focus his wrath on the tearful brown-eyed woman that was kneeling before him. She flinched and whimpered at the harsh voice then meekly nodded her head. "Speak up woman!" He paused to address the young maid.

"Y-Yes, your majesty...Oh, it was so horrible to witness such a tragedy and not being able to help. I hope Lord Goodman would forgive me" The maid said in a poignant voice, fat droplets of water stream down her face. She swiped at them with the piece of cloth in her hand. "He was such a kind soul"

The King regarded the young maid with an admonitory stare then returned pacing his study once more. "You do know what would happen to you if you are found lying to the King?"

The young maid's mouth hung opened and Commander Mcmillian tense, aware of the maid's gaze briefly settling on him. "No! Your majesty! I would never lie to you! I saw the Duke of Nottingham that night and the Earl even said his name before his death!" She sobbed.

The King stopped then turned towards the lady, the corner of his mouth moved upwards into a sinister smile. He crunched on his knees, his hands playfully reached out to twirl the young maid's hair. Commander McMillian was astonished that the lady did not even flinched. "I watched many men died because of lies, some were... innocent. One never could fathom where a liar's loyalty was and I hate them," His eyes held hers with challenge and truth. "If I found out that you weren't honest, and trust me I would...I'll kill you myself" The maid gasped as the king rose to his feet.

The King gestured towards one of his guards at the door and few seconds after, the maid was gone. The King had heard enough from this maid. Clairwood a murderer! This could not be true. "This is unacceptable!" The King turned his full gaze on the Commander.

Commander Mcmillian held the green-eyed, furious King for what felt like a lifetime. "The maid, what do you know of her innocence?"

"Young Milly is from a poor family sire, the Earl was very fond of the girl and taught her how to read and write. I don't see why she should lie about such a tragedy" He knew the king was having a difficult time accepting the fact that the young Duke was a murderer. Commander Mcmillian knew the history between them all too well. How William Clairwood had saved his life many years ago as a boy. It must be difficult trying to decide which death would be less painful and more honorable for the son of his dire friend. He clenched his teeth to prevent a smirk from forming.