A Time for Love

  “Very well,” he said wearily.

  Anne pulled back and smiled at him. “You sound tired, my lord.”

  He managed a half smile. “Think you I could do with a rest?”

  “A true rest, Robin,” she said gently. “Put your head in my lap and sleep for a bit. I’ll keep watch.”

  “I’ll not lose you, Anne. I vow I won’t.”

  “Rest, Robin.”

  “For a moment or two,” he conceded.

  He made her comfortable, then stretched out and put his head in her lap. His drawn sword lay by his side under his hand. He closed his eyes and sighed. He wouldn’t sleep, but he would rest. He smiled faintly.

  “A rest will likely serve me,” he said quietly.

  “Will it?”

  “With any luck, my labors during the night will again be very heavy.”

  “Taxing,” she agreed. “Surely.”

  He opened one eye. “Think you?”

  She closed his eye with her hand, but not before he saw her dry smile. “I think a great many things about your labors, my lord, but some of them I’ll save for later. You would not sleep did I tell you of them now.”

  “I pleased you.”

  “Aye, Robin. You did.”

  He took her hand and held it between both his own.

  And he counted the hours until he could again use something besides mere words to tell his lady wife just how deeply he loved her.

  And perhaps whilst he was about his work, he would remind himself just how far he was willing to go to keep her safe.

  He pitied the fool who had raised a sword against them.

  41

  Anne stood with her back to the hearth and forced herself to keep her hands down by her sides. That in itself was something of a battle. There was, of course, the pleasure of actually warming her hands against a blaze that had the might to restore some bit of warmth to her fingers. Though she certainly had not lacked for heat during the nights of the past se’nnight, the days had taken their toll.

  Then there was the matter of the blade strapped to her forearm, under her sleeve where no one would mark it.

  She felt decidedly, and uncomfortably, like a mercenary.

  And a very unskilled one at that.

  There was some comfort, though, in having Robin standing immediately at her left. He had told her repeatedly that he would not leave her side and should they be attacked, he could readily defend them both. She knew she should have taken comfort in that. After all, he was a swordsman without peer.

  But even Robin couldn’t see a crossbow bolt coming at them from across the hall.

  She closed her eyes and prayed briefly for safety. Perhaps St. Christopher had been attending her devotions at his feet all those years and Robin would survive the eve intact. And once everyone retreated to their beds, she and Robin would retreat to the priest’s chamber. The man hadn’t been overly enthusiastic about the idea, but Robin had ignored his hesitancy. Robin had been adamant they would not find themselves trapped inside his sire’s chamber.

  “Anne, you remember Lord MacTavish, do you not?” Robin said pleasantly. “Arrived just this moment from his hall in the north.”

  One of Rhys’s most troublesome neighbors, Anne noted as she smiled and nodded.

  “A pleasure, my lord.”

  MacTavish grunted. “Best get a babe soon,” he said curtly. “Artane’s an old man.”

  And with that, he stomped off, bellowing for drink.

  “Well,” Robin said under his breath, “we can remove him from our list of suspects.”

  “Too obvious?”

  “Too gluttonous. He already had sauce on his shirt. I doubt he’d interrupt his supper long enough for murder.”

  Anne smiled and shifted. As she did so, the weight of the blade against her arm caught her attention and sobered her instantly. By the saints, this was no matter for jesting. She had little doubt that the murderer would come, to prove his prowess if nothing else. How could she possibly expect to protect herself with a knife stuck up her sleeve? She could scarce draw it without trembling. Perhaps Robin had it aright; she likely couldn’t kill. She would hesitate, and then all would be lost.

  As if he knew her thoughts, Robin put his arm around her and gave her a firm squeeze. He looked down at her gravely, but said no word. Anne took a deep breath, put her shoulders back, and nodded.

  She would do what she had to if the time came.

  Robin leaned over and put his mouth next to her ear. “I’ve plans for you.”

  “Do you?” she murmured.

  “Later. We’ll stuff a bit of cloth in the priest’s ears. No sense in upsetting the man.”

  That he believed there would indeed be a later was reassuring. And even though she knew he was making light to ease her, she couldn’t help a pang of sorrow over what she stood to lose.

  To have Robin for so short a time, then have him taken from her?

  And should they survive this, she would never survive it if he went off to war again.

  “Stop thinking,” Robin whispered. “’Tis deafening.”

  “As you will, my lord.”

  “We’ve frillies about, my lady, listening and remembering. There are guards aplenty. Even my grandmother carries a very sharp needle or two and the saints only know what else. All will be well.”

  She looked up at him and tried to smile. “You’ll not leave my side?”

  “Not for a moment,” he promised.

  “I would be hard-pressed to guard your back otherwise.”

  He gave her a half smile, but she saw in his eyes that he was relieved at her words. There was love there too, in his glance, and she promised herself a goodly amount of time to contemplate that mystery once the assassin was caught and dealt with.

  Joanna crossed the floor of the great hall, several of her lads in tow. She kissed Anne, then looked up at Robin.

  “It would seem that all our guests have arrived, grandson. Shall we begin the celebration?”

  “With some bit of talk?” Robin asked grimly.

  “Of course. The lord must welcome his guests.”

  Robin looked as if he’d been commanded to clean the cesspit single-handedly. He sighed deeply, took Anne’s hand, and led her to the lord’s table. Anne forced herself not to look behind them anxiously. Robin’s captain and two other of his guardsmen were there, as well as Jason. Indeed, the entire great hall was ringed by either Robin’s men or Joanna’s, though the latter were certainly more recognizable in their brightly colored clothing.

  “Honored guests,” Robin said loudly, raising his cup in salute, “I bid you welcome to the celebration of my wedding. Eat your fill, drink until you’re sated, and enjoy the fine minstrels who wish nothing more than to please your ears.”

  Anne watched him and realized that he hadn’t tasted his wine. Perhaps others might have believed it, for he brought the cup to his lips, but he did not drink.

  And then Robin began to talk to those around him. Indeed, he talked so much, he had no time to eat. Anne watched him cast a bit of everything placed before them to the dogs. When none fell to the floor in a fit, she reached for some supper.

  Robin caught her hand and held it in both his own, continuing to speak to the lord next to him.

  Perhaps he feared a slow poison.

  She wondered if she would survive the night without something to eat.

  “Bread,” Joanna said from her right. “Perfectly delicious and beneficial.”

  Anne looked at her gratefully. “Nothing added?”

  “None. My cook confirms it.”

  She didn’t need to hear more. It was a poor meal when compared to the feast before them, but at least she wouldn’t die from the enjoyment of it.

  She sincerely hoped she could say the same for the dancing.

  The minstrels performed throughout the meal, but when they truly began to play with enthusiasm, Anne knew the time had come for her and Robin to present themselves to the guests. Joanna had informed them
that ’twas their duty to perform one dance by themselves for the company.

  Men moved to the exits from the hall as Robin led her around the high table. The other tables had been pushed aside to allow room enough for movement. Robin looked at her once as the music began and she knew he shared her thoughts.

  Let this not be our last.

  Robin did not falter in his steps and she admired that absently, storing up the memory to praise him for later. Even with that, she sensed that his mind was elsewhere and she decided that that too should be praised at her earliest opportunity.

  But no one moved.

  No twang of a bowstring was heard above the lute.

  No body launched itself over a table with blade bared.

  Anne almost wondered if perhaps they had made a mistake. Could the missive have been a poor jest? She looked about her. There was no one there from Canfield come to avenge Maude’s death. Not even Baldwin had returned to torment them.

  It was almost unsettling.

  And then the dancing began in earnest.

  Robin remained by her side despite the number of requests for his presence with some other nobleman’s wife or daughter. He demurred, he stalled, and he pointedly refused. Anne hoped he didn’t offend half the countryside, but she wasn’t about to relinquish him so he could flatter someone else.

  The music stopped and she found herself facing her lord. He took her hands and looked down at her solemnly.

  “Safe so far,” he said.

  “Aye,” she agreed. “Perhaps ’twas all a—”

  And at that moment, ’twas as if the gates of Hell themselves had loosed a foul commotion.

  There was a melee at the door to the great hall. Anne lost count of the men who became embroiled in it. All she knew was when the sea of bodies parted, three souls stumbled out into the midst of the great hall and collapsed.

  Nicholas, Amanda, and Miles.

  Robin grasped her hand and pulled. She stumbled several times as she struggled to keep up with his furious strides. He knelt down next to his siblings.

  “What befell you?” he demanded.

  Amanda was crying so desperately, she couldn’t speak. Neither Nicholas nor Miles looked to be capable of answers either. They looked as if they’d just escaped a war. All three were covered with blood and it looked as if a good deal of that blood was their own.

  “Robin,” Anne said, tugging on Robin’s sleeve, “they need care. I’ll take them to Master Erneis.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll send my guard.” He frowned deeply. “I should likely see to the settling of our guests.”

  “Aye,” she said, “you should. Perhaps someone will reveal something in the confusion.”

  He took her hand and kissed it in his usual fashion. “I’ll follow you as quickly as I can.”

  “I will be well. Watch your own back.”

  He nodded, then motioned to his men. Anne soon found herself surrounded again by his fierce lads and she felt a measure of relief in that.

  It took a goodly amount of time to gather up the three wounded ones and herd them out to the healer’s quarters. Anne saw them inside, leaving Robin’s men without. There was no room for them and she suspected they might serve her better if they kept watch outside.

  Nicholas’s wounds were the gravest and Anne winced as she aided in stitching them closed. Amanda’s sobs had subsided to mere trembling and sniffles. She sat at Nicholas’s head, alternately wringing her hands and dragging her sleeve across her face.

  “Just a scratch,” Nicholas croaked.

  Anne looked at Amanda. “What befell you?”

  Amanda shook her head. “I cannot speak of it yet. See to Nicholas and tend him well.”

  Anne looked at Master Erneis and prayed he would manage the feat. She couldn’t deny his skill, but she couldn’t help either wishing for a bit of Berengaria’s special potions that had ever worked so well. But Erneis was clever enough and ’twas a certainty he was used to wounds from a skirmish, so Anne felt somewhat relieved by that.

  Then again, Sir Montgomery had been felled by a lesser wound than any of the ones Nicholas bore.

  Anne pushed that thought aside.

  She looked at Miles, who lay on a pallet, awaiting his turn patiently. Anne began to cut his tunic from him.

  “Can you speak?” she asked.

  “Always,” he said with a weak smile.

  “Then give me the tale. What happened?”

  “Ruffians,” he said with a cough. “They set upon us from the trees.”

  “What possessed you to leave the keep anyway?” Anne asked in surprise. “I thought you’d gone for a lengthy stay. And where were Nicky’s guards?”

  Miles groaned as she pulled cloth from under his back. “We rode ahead, leaving the men behind to bring our gear. And all was because of the missive you sent.”

  “We sent?” Anne asked.

  “We assumed Robin had been in his cups when he wrote it,” Amanda put in hollowly. “The scrawl was almost illegible.”

  “Many words . . . mis . . . spelled,” Miles said, through gritted teeth.

  “We sent no missive,” Anne said in surprise.

  Amanda looked at her and blinked for several moments in silence. “But,” she said finally, “it said you needed us immediately.”

  “It was a lie,” Anne said, feeling a chill go down her spine. “We never . . .”

  She felt a breeze blow over the back of her neck.

  As if someone had entered Master Erneis’s inner chamber.

  Anne jumped to her feet and spun around.

  Edith of Sedgwick stood there, come from nowhere.

  “I thought you would need aid,” Edith said calmly.

  But Anne saw much more than that in the woman’s eyes. Indeed, the coldness there sent shivers through her that she suspected no fire could warm.

  She knew, she knew she was looking in the eyes of death.

  Anne’s mouth was completely dry. She tried to swallow, but ’twas futile.

  “We could have used aid a handful of hours ago,” Amanda said wearily.

  Anne wanted to bid Amanda be silent, but she could form no words. All she could do was stare into Edith’s eyes and see her own life extinguished there.

  “Ruffians abound,” Edith said, in that quiet, composed voice that made Anne want to scream. “Travel is very dangerous.”

  Miles snorted. “Deadly, I’d say.”

  “Deadly, then,” Edith conceded with a shrug.

  And then she slipped her hand inside her cloak. Anne watched in horror and realized that now was the time she should be reaching for her own dagger.

  But she found, to her dismay, that she couldn’t.

  All she could do was stare death in the face and wait, powerless and terrified.

  The door behind Edith opened and slammed shut. Booted feet stomped several times and a rubbing of hands followed.

  “Bloody frigid place,” Robin groused. “Excuse me, Edith. I should see how the little ones have fared.”

  Anne watched Edith remove her hand from under her cloak. Edith looked at Robin and smiled, a friendly smile that anyone would have been happy to receive.

  “Your guards were kind enough to let me pass,” Edith said. “I thought to be of some use, but apparently all is well here.”

  “My thanks,” Robin said, patting her briefly on the shoulder. “You’ll likely want to return to the hall. Take one of my men for your protection.”

  Anne wanted to blurt out that the man would be putting his life in jeopardy, but all she could do was gape at Edith. Speech was beyond her.

  Robin turned away to look over his siblings. Anne found herself facing Edith once more.

  Edith smiled.

  It was the most terrible thing Anne had ever seen.

  “My lady,” Edith whispered, then she turned and left the chamber.

  Anne stood there and shook.

  But once the door was closed, she turned and threw herself at Robin. He stag
gered in surprise, then regained his balance and pulled her close.

  “What?” he asked, looking baffled. “What is it?”

  “It’s her,” Anne hissed. She pointed back at the door. “Her!”

  “Who?” he asked, blinking stupidly.

  “Edith, you fool!”

  He looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “What are you babbling about, Anne?”

  “Edith!” Anne whispered frantically. “She’s the murderer!”

  Robin’s jaw slid down. “Surely you jest.”

  “I do nothing of the sort!”

  “Anne, it’s Edith,” he said, as if her very name guaranteed her purity and goodness.

  “She’s behind it!”

  He groaned and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “Anne, I believe that you believe such a thing,” he said quietly. “I believe you’ve had a hellish fortnight—”

  “Which have no doubt seemed like a hellish pair of years with you as company—” Amanda put in.

  Anne held on to her husband before he could pull away and retaliate.

  “A hellish fortnight,” he stressed, “and perhaps that has you overwrought.”

  “I am not overwrought.”

  He pulled back and looked down at her gravely. “Anne, what has Edith to gain by hurting me?”

  “Maybe she just wants me dead so she can have you,” Anne said, starting to shake.

  “Why she’d want him is a mystery,” Amanda muttered.

  Robin looked heavenward and blew out his breath. And in that small gesture that he had made countless times over the course of his life, Anne found comfort. Robin was obviously digging deep inside himself for the patience to endure his sister’s barbs. At least there was something still the same in a world where everything had just changed. It was almost enough to lead her to believe there might be hope for the righting of their lives. But that wouldn’t come truly until Robin saw the truth she had seen.

  “You’re wrong,” she said bluntly to him.

  He scowled at her. Slowly, though, his scowl turned into a thoughtful frown. “What will you have me do?”

  “Tell your guards not to let her in again.”

  He looked at her for a moment in silence, then nodded. “As you will, my lady. But I still cannot believe such evil of her.”