But hard on the heels of that came the realization that indeed he had. He could only speculate on the humiliation she felt and that he could certainly take credit for. That surely wasn’t the worst. The saints only knew what kind of damage he had done to her by crushing her as he had.
Well, better crushed than dead. He met those damning looks with a glare of his own, then strode over and stopped in front of Anne.
“Anne—”
“Move,” she said in a raspy whisper.
Robin’s mail voiced a loud protest as he bent, took her by the arms, and lifted her to her feet. She swayed drunkenly and he clasped her to him. His hoped his mail would not pinch her—though he doubted it could be any more painful than what he’d already done to her.
“Release me,” she said, trying to push away.
That was the last thing he would do. He could not stomach the sight of her on her hands and knees again. He put one arm under her knees, one arm behind her back, and swept her up.
“Put me down, you blighted bugger,” she gasped.
Robin ignored her slander, knowing that he had been the one to teach her to curse in her youth.
He also ignored the flat of her hand across his face. He supposed he deserved it. He had humiliated her, but damnation, what did she expect? Was he to let her be killed without any effort made to stop it?
He continued to ignore her steady stream of curses as he carried her back to the hall. Had he ever thought of Anne as shy and retiring? Why, the woman could make a hardened warrior blush with her foulness.
“Anne, please,” Robin said, exasperated. “I believe I’ve been left with little doubt about what you think of me.”
Her curses gave way to tears. Robin felt his own eyes begin to sting. That he had been the one to wring such weeping from her was almost his undoing. He gritted his teeth and climbed the steps to the hall door. Damnation, what else was he to have done?
The great hall was empty save Amanda sitting by the fire. Robin paused, then scowled. His sister was staring off into nothingness as if she had naught but maidenly dreams as her most pressing occupation. He glared at her as he passed and was faintly gratified to find she had obviously felt the like, for she looked up in surprise.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” Robin said shortly. “Fetch Nicholas to Father’s bedchamber and don’t eat or drink anything until we’ve had a chance to talk.”
She blinked, then looked at Anne in his arms. “What is he babbling about, Anne?”
“By all the bloody saints, Amanda, will you for once just obey me?” he demanded. “Fetch Nick and do it now!”
His sister rose with a sigh he was certain she had intended should blow him over, but at least she was on her feet.
Robin paused, then another thought occurred to him. “After you’ve sent Nick, fetch Miles, the twins, and Isabelle as well,” he called after her. “Bring them upstairs.”
Amanda waved him away and left the great hall. Robin continued on his way up the stairs and down the passageway to his parents’ bedchamber. No sense in not appropriating the finest for his lady while he was lord of Artane. He kicked open the door and then set Anne down on her feet in the passageway.
“Stay here,” he commanded, taking a torch off the wall. He drew his sword and entered the chamber, pushing the firelight into each corner and checking under the bed. By the saints, a body wasn’t even safe in his own home anymore.
He returned to find Anne leaning heavily against the doorframe. He put his arm around her shoulders, led her into the chamber, and placed her in a chair near the hearth. He built up the fire, taking more time than he needed to, but he knew he had things to say to his lady and he wasn’t all that certain how to begin. It was time enough to gather at least a few of his thoughts. Once he was finished with his task, he remained on his knees and turned to look at her.
Her cheeks were smudged with dirt. Except, of course, for those trails of cleanliness her tears had left in their wake. Robin couldn’t bear to see what might be revealed in her eyes, so he turned back to the fire. He took a deep breath for enough courage to put to her the questions he had to.
“You didn’t fall down the stairs, did you?” he asked quietly.
She was silent for a moment or two. “Nay.”
He dragged his hand through his hair and looked up at the ceiling as he let his breath out slowly. So it was as he feared. But who could possibly want to hurt her?
“Merciful saints above, Anne,” he said with a sigh. “Who have you irritated lately besides me?”
He looked at her. She was looking at him, but her expression was not what he had expected. The hatred in her glance chilled him to the bone. He had been accustomed to looks of ill-disguised affection and undisguised annoyance, but hatred?
“Anne . . .” he began slowly.
She turned her face away and remained silent.
Robin would have cheerfully handed over all his teeth to have possessed a bit of Nicholas’s glibness at that moment. The only looks of hatred he was accustomed to receiving were from those he prepared to put to the sword. He’d never had such a chilling glance from a woman.
Then again, he’d never left a woman trampled in the dirt before, either.
Perhaps Anne was angry with him over that. She had reason to be, he supposed. Perhaps she did but need a few moments to regain her composure and realize he hadn’t done it out of malice. Perhaps if he turned her mind to other things, such as their current problem, she might forget that he had been the one to crush her. He cleared his throat purposefully.
“I could have believed you were clumsy enough to fall down the stairs,” he began.
Anne didn’t move.
Robin frowned at her lack of response, but continued on. “I also could have believed that Stephen had eaten something that made him feel poorly,” he continued, “but Nick was up all night retching and mace heads do not simply fly off without some kind of aid. There is more to this than simple coincidence.”
Still she made no move, gave no indication that she had heard him. Robin sighed heavily and rose.
“Very well,” he said. “Perhaps rest is what you need. Let’s have your boots off, then I’ll carry you to bed. You’ll be perfectly safe here for the present.”
“Do not touch me.”
Robin stopped before he did just that. “’Tis nothing I wouldn’t do for Amanda,” he said stiffly, “though with likely less care than I’ll use now.”
“Go away, Robin.”
Robin stared down at her, his anger warring with his concern. Her pale hair was coming loose from her braid and strands of it fell around her face. She breathed poorly, as if it pained her to do so. He paused. Had he broken anything, falling on her as he had? He reached out and touched her hair as gently as he could.
“Anne, do you have pain anywhere?”
She ignored him. He watched as she slowly and with a good deal of effort turned herself away from him.
Robin sighed and stepped back. Well, ’twas obvious he would have none of her thoughts at present. Perhaps later, when her temper had cooled.
He was momentarily tempted to ask Nicholas to pry the tale from her, then he thought better of it. The last thing he wanted was Nicholas and Anne alone in the same chamber together. Nicholas would be charming and gallant and say just the right things. Robin would return to find Anne having swooned directly into his brother’s arms. Nay, far better that she be forced to talk to him.
He would, however, reserve the right to talk to his brother himself. Despite Nicholas’s flaws, which were indeed many and mainly sprang from his great love of the fairer species, he had a head for strategy. Robin had benefitted more than once from discussing tactics with his brother.
“I’ll return as soon as I may,” Robin said.
Anne said nothing. Indeed, she made no move to even indicate that she had heard him.
Robin was unsurprised, and in spite of everything, that almost cheere
d him. He’d known she wouldn’t speak to him. At least he was learning to predict her reactions.
He left the bedchamber and closed the door behind him. The passageway was well lit, but even so there were patches of gloom along the corridor. Robin peered into them, but saw nothing amiss. He decided then that a guard would have to be posted outside the door. More than one set, likely. Indeed, the best thing to do was likely to have someone inside with Anne to protect her.
He paused.
Who better than he to be that guard?
He turned the thought over in his head until he saw his brother coming down the passageway. It was a thought worth pursuing, but later, when he had determined just how dire circumstances were. Perhaps Nicholas would be more able than he to judge if events were accidental, or if Robin had discovered something more sinister.
For once, Robin hoped his imagination had overpowered his good sense.
Nicholas came down the passageway, then stopped across the passageway from Robin. Robin looked at his brother and was momentarily chilled by the thought of how close he had come to losing not only Anne, but Nicholas too. Irritating though he might have been, Nicholas was his brother, after all, and Robin loved him dearly. It had been a passing unpleasant night, what with Nicholas being violently ill for the whole of it. He didn’t look much better now.
“What?” Nicholas rasped. He swayed, then leaned heavily against the wall. “I’ve no stomach for riddles today.”
“A mace head flew off a weapon today,” Robin said.
“And?”
“If I hadn’t thrown Anne to the ground, it would have struck her in the face.”
Nicholas’s jaw slipped down. “Nay.”
“Am I imagining things,” Robin asked, “or does there seem to be a pattern here?”
“No one else nearby? No other possible targets?”
Robin shook his head. “I was walking toward her, but it wasn’t aimed at me.”
Nicholas looked even paler, if that was possible. “It would seem,” he said weakly, “there is something foul afoot.”
“I thought so as well.”
“Could we sit to discuss it?” Nicholas asked. “I vow I’ll fall to my knees if I must stand any longer.”
Robin moved to aid his brother only to find Amanda already there. She moved silently enough, when she wasn’t screeching her complaints at him. She put Nicholas’s arm over her shoulders and helped him into the bedchamber. Robin waited for the rest of his siblings, who were coming down the passageway. And as he watched the souls he loved coming toward him, he realized that perhaps keeping them all protected was a more serious concern for him than he had realized before. Though these attacks seemed to be directed at Anne, who knew who the true target was?
Robin herded his family into the bedchamber, then shut the door and bolted it. He watched them take places near the fire. Nicholas sat near Anne, but even Robin had to concede that he looked too ill to take advantage of his position. Amanda first fussed over Anne, then drew up a stool at Nicholas’s feet and sat. Montgomery and John sat on the floor flanking her. They leaned against her on either side and wrapped their arms about her as if she’d been a kind of bolster put there especially for their comfort. Isabelle and Miles fought over the remaining chair. Perhaps Miles’s chivalry was in full bloom that day, for he conceded the battle quickly and sat at her feet.
“Rub my shoulders, will you, Iz?” he asked.
Robin watched the normal goings-on in his family and wished heartily that he could do naught but enjoy them. But he was responsible for his kin. Not only was he answerable for his own actions, and theirs as well, he was answerable for their safety. He was beginning to wonder if his sire had made a mistake in entrusting him with these souls.
He shook aside his thoughts. The responsibility was his and he would not shrink from it. He had no choice but to bring something very foul into their midst, so best be about it while he could. But once he found the culprit, this loss of their innocence was something else he would make the fiend pay for.
He took a deep breath. He could keep them alive and unharmed. After all, warring was what he did best. Perhaps his sire hadn’t chosen amiss. He stood behind Anne’s chair and prepared to give them the tidings.
“Would someone care to enlighten us as to why we’ve been dragged here?” Amanda asked tartly.
Robin pursed his lips. Not even a chance to start before she was at him. Perhaps Amanda could be left to the wolves whilst he concentrated on the rest of his family. At least then he might have a bit of peace.
“We are here,” he said briskly, “because there is something afoot in the keep and ’tis my task to see it discovered and rooted out.”
“And you know this because . . .” Amanda asked slowly.
“Because Anne has almost lost her life three times in the past fortnight,” Robin said. “I cannot credit it to coincidence.”
“Perhaps the fiend was targeting you,” Amanda said, “and missed.”
Miles laughed, but quickly covered it up with a cough. “Sorry, Rob,” he said. “I know this is no matter for jesting.”
“Aye, how do you know ’twas for Anne?” John asked.
“Aye, maybe ’twas a garrison knight Rob wore down to his bones,” Montgomery offered enthusiastically. “’Tis a surety there would be several of those.”
And then they were off, those souls Robin had just recently vowed to protect, apparently having no lack of names to suggest as to who might be such a likely lad. Robin listened to them list his victims and was torn between a bit of pride that the list was so long and annoyance that his siblings seemed not to realize their peril.
All except Nicholas who sat behind Amanda, sprawled wearily in his chair, drumming his fingers on the arm as if he hadn’t a care in that empty head of his. But at least the dolt wasn’t smiling. He was too sick for it and Robin couldn’t help but find a bit of comfort in that.
And then there was Anne. Robin moved slightly so he could see her face—then he wished he hadn’t. He’d never seen her look more weary or grieved. And when he caught her gaze, she favored him with a look of such ill-disguised ill-will that he flinched. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but she looked away so purposefully that he shut his mouth with a snap. It would do him no good to plead his case now, not with all the rampant speculation that was going on about him.
Amanda rose suddenly and held down her hands for Anne. “Come, sister,” she said quietly. “Let me put you to bed. You look as if you need rest.”
Miles was instantly on his feet to aid them. Robin moved to help, but Anne pushed his hand away. His first instinct was to blister her with a caustic remark, then he bit his tongue. In truth, he couldn’t blame her for her actions. She was likely afeared for her life, bruised mightily from his protection, and angry that he hadn’t helped her up in the first place. Perhaps sleep was what she needed to restore her to her good sense.
He watched Miles and Amanda care for her, and as he did so, his earlier thought came back to him.
He could sequester his siblings in the lads’ bedchamber. Nicholas could keep watch over them. And when Nick had to be about some other business, Miles could take over the duty. The girls and the twins would be perfectly safe. Nicholas was infinitely capable of seeing to them. Miles was hard on his brother’s heels when it came to swordplay and he was devious enough to anticipate any foul intent from a murderer.
But even Nicholas would have to admit that such an arrangement left mistress Anne to be watched over.
And who better to do that than him?
Alone. Where she could not escape him. And then perhaps for once in their sorry lives, they might have speech together that did not involve insults and shouting, and then Robin might discover the lay of her heart once and for all.
He was, after all, the best warrior in the keep. ’Twas only fitting that he be the one to guard her. She was Fenwyck’s heir. She needed to be protected at all costs.
“Well,” he announced, ??
?that’s enough discussion. I’ll look into the matter. Until it’s solved, everyone will hie themselves to the lads’ chamber. Lads, leave only in pairs. Girls, don’t go out without either Nick or Miles.”
Nicholas frowned at him. “I think it best we remain all in the same chamber, brother. If we have a war within our own keep, far better that we remain in a single body.”
As if Robin would allow his brother and Anne to be in a chamber together! Nicholas had already fair draped himself over Anne for the past fortnight. Best get him as far away from her as possible. Robin turned to Amanda and gave her the sternest look he could muster.
“Take the little ones to my chamber.”
Amanda pursed her lips, but nodded readily enough.
“But,” Nicholas spluttered, “you can’t mean—”
Robin turned to Miles.
“Nick and I have aught to discuss. ’Tis your task to protect the family until we’ve arranged our strategy.”
Miles rose without comment or question. It was, though, a goodly while before he managed to get everyone out the door. Robin listened to his siblings suppose and surmise until he was near to screaming at them to get themselves gone. They had no useful suggestions and if he had to listen to the little lads discuss once again what kind of poison could be put in wine to kill so quickly, he would have silenced them himself.
But Miles was successful in the end and Robin couldn’t help but feel faintly satisfied about it. At least there was someone in the keep who would obey him.
Once the door was closed, Robin looked over at the bed. There was no movement there. It was possible Anne was asleep, and Robin prayed the like was true. At least she wouldn’t have to hear the argument that was to come. Nicholas was still lazing in his chair, but Robin knew that such a display of tranquillity couldn’t last for long.
He put his shoulders back, took a deep breath, and prepared for battle. He would have loosened his sword in its sheath, but that might have alerted his brother to what he was about. Besides, a sword fight would awaken Anne and that was something Robin wanted to avoid. His plan would be put into action before she awoke and could add her voice to Nicholas’s.