Lion Heart (19 page)

He shook his head, frowning at me. “Really, Scar? Of
course he didn't want to. When will you believe that he loves you?”

“I believe it,” I said, touching the bed again. “I just don't know what it means. I think him loving me will always make Prince John hate us both. I think it's hard to act for love when you know there can be consequences.”

He shook his head again. “Consequences,” he scoffed. “Our overlord just ordered our city burned, and we have to pay a tax so high to bring our king home that we can't eat. And without our king, that overlord will probably manage to be the new one, and then what? What is ever without consequences, Scar?”

I looked at him, helpless.

“Nothing,” he answered. “So don't be a fool and cast stones into a path that isn't meant to have them. Love Rob. Be with Rob. Keep each other safe, and keep each other happy.”

I looked at him. “Is that what you're doing with Bess?”

He looked so sad as soon as I said it. “Yes, but I'm the stupid one there. She loves John—she always will. And I love her. And unfortunately, the best I can do is protect her and raise John's baby and make sure no harm ever comes to them. That's the only way I can love her.”

Reaching out, I took his hand in my wrapped-up
paw. “You're kind of hard not to love, Much. You'll win her yet.”

“Maybe,” he said, but I could tell he didn't believe it. “But you need to see to Rob, Scar. He's the sheriff of a city that just got slaughtered. And more than that, for once, and I thank God for this, he didn't run into the fray like he always has. He didn't put his life at risk. He put the people first, before his sometimes misguided sense of heroism, before his need to defeat an enemy. And while it was the right thing to do, I can't imagine that was easy for him. And losing you—Christ, Scar, that has not been easy on him.”

I shuddered.

He rubbed my arm. “And I'm sure it hasn't been easy for you either. So why don't you take the tiny amount of solace that God offers you and stop being stupid and just be in love with him?”

I nodded. He were right about that, at least. “You're always the best of us, Much.”

“Now that I'm not the only cripple, I might start to believe you when you say things like that,” he said, holding up my half hand in his.

“Come on,” I told him. “People need to eat. Let's raid the kitchens.”

He stood and pulled me up by my hand, and I smiled.

“Turning into quite the gentleman, Much.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I do my best, m'lady.”

I opened my mouth, ready to tell him—him, if anyone—about my title, about being Lady Huntingdon, but I stopped. I just wanted to be Scarlet a while longer.

“What?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Come on.”

We brought food, and several women went back into the castle to cook more food. I tried cutting salted pork, but it were clumsy and awful with my hands wrapped up. Hissing in frustration, I froze when familiar arms came around me and covered my hands. “Want me to do that?”

I shut my eyes, leaning my head against his for a breath.

Rob's head leaned against mine. “We need to talk, Scarlet.”

With a sigh, I nodded. “I know.”

“Let me,” he said, nudging me aside.

I moved, leaning my hip on the table to look at him still. I crossed my arms. “I bare know where to start, Rob.”

“Start where you left,” he said, lifting his eyes to mine. “When I saw you last.”

I drew a breath. “Prince John sent my carriage away from the others. He hid me, imprisoning me in castle dungeons. I never knew where I was.” I stopped, the word feeling strange on my tongue, here with Rob, where I thought my hen-picked way of talking were the real part of me.

His eyebrows lifted. “You're talking different.”

I tightened my arms round myself. “It wasn't like I didn't know how to talk before. Eleanor made me practice—but that's a later part.”

He nodded, waiting for me to continue.

“He moved me round, and then one night he told my guards to kill me. One tried, and David killed him to save me.”

“David was one of your captors,” he said dark.

I nodded. “But before he tried to kill me, Prince John said Richard wasn't coming back.”

“Which is the only way he'd try such a thing,” Rob said, cutting the pork hard. “Coward.”

“I had to tell Eleanor,” I told him. He nodded. “It took a few days to send word to her, but she met me at Winchester—”

“Winchester?” he asked. “You were with de Quincy?”

I nodded. “He did me a great service, sheltering me until the queen came.”

He frowned. “Go on.”

My eyes dropped. “From there, I went to Bristol,” I said soft.

“Bristol?”

I nodded.

“What was in Bristol?”

I looked up at him, swallowing hard. “A ship. Bound for Ireland.”

He stopped cutting, looking at the food.

My mouth were dry. “I thought—I thought maybe running from Prince John would keep you safe. Would keep me safe,” I said, and he looked at me, his eyes hot and full of things I didn't know to name. “I thought I could leave, Rob, I thought I could forget you, and forget the person I've become because of you. I thought—I thought so many things.”

His throat worked.

There were water filling in my eyes. “I couldn't,” I told him. “I heard Eleanor were in trouble—
was
in trouble—and I knew I couldn't leave. Leaving doesn't keep you safe. Leaving doesn't do anything but keep us apart,” I told him. “I know that—” I kept on, but he stopped me, tugging me into his arms. Slow and careful, he pushed the hair off my face and tipped my mouth up to kiss him.

I closed my eyes and the water fell, but it didn't matter, not when I were hidden in Rob's love.

“My lord Sheriff, step away,” I heard, and Rob's mouth
left mine so that we could both turn and see David, his sword half-drawn.

Rob glared at him. “Sir?” he asked.

“David, what are you doing?” I demanded.

“My lady, I cannot allow him to dishonor you in such a way! The queen mother—the
king!—
would demand my life for less.”

There were giggles around us, but David were fair serious.

“He may already demand your life for keeping his daughter captive,” Rob snapped.

David's face went pale, but he didn't move or relent.

“She is—” he started, and my eyes went wide. “A lady of the court,” he finished, nodding a touch to me. “The daughter of a king. You will not put your hands on her in such a manner.”

Rob let me go, but he were still glaring at David. “She's my betrothed, sir.”

“I am?” I asked.

“Then you should be more mindful of her reputation.”

Rob crossed his arms.

“Oh, for Heaven's sake, what reputation do I have left?” I asked them. “I fell to my knees in the house of God covered with the blood of several men, and yet I'm not meant to kiss the man I have always loved?” I demanded.

Rob looked at me. “When did that happen?” he asked, turning to me—but still keeping his big, strong arms that I very much liked crossed round
me
crossed over his chest.

David sheathed his sword in full. “When the queen mother was attacked,” he said. “My lady defended her valiantly.”

And then I found I were Lady Huntingdon
, I tried in my head. It were the most important thing to tell him.

“Was that part of Prince John's plot against Richard—to steal the ransom money? I can't believe he'd attack his own mother—though I suppose that would put suspicion off him.”

I shook my head. “No—they were vagabonds seizing an opportunity. Well, I believe so, at least. I believe Prince John will steal the money, but he'll wait until it has all been gathered. He can't do much without a very expensive army.”

Rob glanced at me. “And the nobles. His only power is that which they grant him.”

My mouth opened to tell him I were one of those nobles, more than he knew, but I said, “And then we made our way up here. And he—he found me in Oxford,” I told him soft, looking round to make sure there weren't others listening to me.

“Prince John?” he asked, leaning to me.

I nodded.

His hand gripped the cutting knife. “What did he do?”

I shook my head, putting my hand on his. “Nothing, Rob.”

Rob looked at David. “He wanted to hurt her,” David said grave. “But no one would watch him do it. And she herself turned him away.”

The tears were in my eyes again. “Which is why he came here,” I whispered. “He must have left me and come straight to do this. To kill you. To kill our people.”

He looked full at me. “He didn't get me, Scarlet. And this wasn't something he did because of you. He did it because he's a vindictive, evil man. It wasn't something you could have stopped, my love. Not ever.”

My shoulders raised up. “Your turn,” I told him. “Tell me what's happened here since I left.”

He nodded, but looked at the food. “Come,” he said. “Let's get everyone fed, and maybe we can steal a moment to speak.” He glanced at David. “Alone.”

David frowned.

CHAPTER

Rob and I worked with the rest of the people of Nottinghamshire until well after dark. Within a few hours we weren't finding any more bodies, which were a relief.

Rob opened the castle to anyone without a home to return to, and we brought as many blankets and pallets as could be found and stuffed to the Great Hall, feeding everyone what we could. It were strange listening to Rob give orders. He'd grown comfortable as the sheriff. He were born to it.

And I didn't tell him that those orders were now mine to give. I liked listening to him do it, confident in himself and his role.

I were sitting with Bess and some girl she knew, playing with the other woman's daughter, a sure-footed tot named Molly. The girl stomped around us with glee,
reveling in her newfound ability to walk, and Bess tensed, hissing breath out over her teeth.

“Bess?” I asked, lurching forward.

The pain passed, and she laughed. “Just a rather hard kick,” she said. “I swear, he's stronger than his father.”

“He?” I asked.

Her shoulders lifted. “I don't really know. Some days all I wish for is a little boy, with John's eyes and shoulders, and every day he grows, it will be a little less like John died,” she said, her voice hushing on the last word. “Then other days, that sounds like torture. And I hope for a girl.”

Her friend squeezed her hand.

“Much wants a girl,” she said, sniffing. “He'll be thrilled, either way, but he wants a girl. Some days—I know he looks at you lot, and wonders how he can be a good enough man if he's not like John, or Robin Hood. And that's not fair,” she said, wiping a sudden tear from her eye. “It's not. He's a wonderful man all on his own.”