Lion Heart
Page 68
There were sighs behind us, and Rob broke off with a laugh as he saw the ladies clumped behind us. “Ladies, you must forgive my ardor. We’ve only just been married,” he said.
There were murmurs and simpers of sighs and forgiveness, and he bowed to me and then to them as he went to join the men. I turned to them all, sitting on benches that had appeared under an awning that servants were affixing even as they sat, and for a moment I froze. There were no places left to sit.
Isabel met my gaze and lifted her eyebrows.
“Lady Huntingdon,” said the woman beside Isabel, standing. “Please, you must have my seat.”
Isabel frowned, but the young, tall girl stood, curtsying to me. “Thank you. What is your name?” I asked her.
“Lady Maud,” she said. “My father is the Earl of Pembroke.”
I pressed her hand. “Thank you. Your kindness is most appreciated.”
She nodded, blushing, and went to a farther row where other young girls squished in tighter to make room for her.
“Lady Huntingdon,” Isabel greeted, terse and tight.
“My lady Princess.”
“Your husband is charming,” she told me. “But don’t think I will soon forget your rough manners and your cold, cruel heart. No matter your title.”
“Cruel heart?” I asked her, surprised. “How can you—” I stopped, my voice fading.
How had I forgotten? She loved Gisbourne. It had been clear as day.
“You blame me,” I murmured. “For his death.”
She turned to me, glaring fierce but her eyes shining wet. “Who else is there to blame? If you could have loved him, cared for him at all—he would have been Earl of Huntingdon, and my husband wouldn’t have punished him. He would have succeeded.” She shook her head. “He didn’t deserve what you did to him.”
“Punished him,” I repeated, looking at my hand. “How did he punish him?”
“You know already,” she said bitter. “You know he—killed him.” Her voice failed her on that awful word. “He made me watch. He put the rope round his neck and told him to say good-bye to me.”
A tear skipped out of her eye, and she didn’t wipe it off. She squared her shoulders, and I wondered if this were the only way she could ever mourn him, in public, with only the defiance of not wiping off a tear.
“Isabel,” I whispered.
She shook her head. “Your fault. And you didn’t even wait until his body was cold to marry him—the incarnation of everything Guy couldn’t ever be,” she said, nodding to Rob on the field. “I won’t let people love him when they wouldn’t love Guy.”
My stomach sank, but worse, I didn’t blame her. We all had our own rebellion, and this were the only one a girl like Isabel, beautiful and trapped, could claim.
When the shooting broke, the ladies all stood to take some of the lavish food the servants had provided, and I caught Maud looking at my hand, not fully hidden in my skirts.
“What happened?” she asked, her hand on her chest. As if I didn’t know what she were talking about, she said, “To your hand.”
I glanced at Isabel, and she were watching me. “I was punished,” I told Maud.
“For what?” another woman asked.
Drawing a slow breath, I turned from Isabel’s gaze. “Displeasing the prince,” I said.
Lady Suffolk shook her head slow. “A woman should never face such treatment,” she said.
“A noblewoman at that,” another said.
“A favorite of the queen mother,” another said.
The women began to whisper and talk.
Isabel’s face folded down.
I went back to the benches.
We returned to our chambers to dress for dinner, and Rob smiled, coming to me. “We did well today,” he told me, putting his arms round my waist and kissing my neck.
I smiled, twisting to meet his lips instead. He kissed me full, catching my back with his full strength and pulling me off the ground. I broke the kiss, then thought better of it, kissing the corner of his mouth. “We did,” I agreed. “But I think you should go to dinner alone.”
He put me down. “And where exactly will you be?”
“London,” I told him. “Allan has a friend there—she helped us once. She’ll have access to a ship, and she’ll know people we can trust to steal the ransom for us.”
He sighed. “I don’t know about this plan, Scarlet.”
My shoulders lifted. “We have to get the money away from him. If Prince John controls the ransom, my father will never return, Prince John will be unstoppable, and you and I won’t survive. Nottingham won’t survive. All this courting favor and being a good little noble—it won’t matter. If we can’t get the money away from him, we don’t have a chance.”
He nodded. “I know. I just cannot believe we are planning to steal from our country. And that somehow, that may make us patriots instead of traitors.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t know if you should go to London alone.”
“Allan and David will come with me,” I told him. “You have to stay here and make excuses.”
His throat bobbed, and he looked at me, still holding me close. “Scar . . . you have to be careful, all right?” he murmured to me.
My eyebrows pulled together, but I nodded.
“I’ve only just married you,” he said. “I can’t lose you now.” His eyes shut, and his forehead pressed to mine. “You know there’s a chance you’re already with child, don’t you? So just . . . just think about that before you run into danger, yes?”
There were murmurs and simpers of sighs and forgiveness, and he bowed to me and then to them as he went to join the men. I turned to them all, sitting on benches that had appeared under an awning that servants were affixing even as they sat, and for a moment I froze. There were no places left to sit.
Isabel met my gaze and lifted her eyebrows.
“Lady Huntingdon,” said the woman beside Isabel, standing. “Please, you must have my seat.”
Isabel frowned, but the young, tall girl stood, curtsying to me. “Thank you. What is your name?” I asked her.
“Lady Maud,” she said. “My father is the Earl of Pembroke.”
I pressed her hand. “Thank you. Your kindness is most appreciated.”
She nodded, blushing, and went to a farther row where other young girls squished in tighter to make room for her.
“Lady Huntingdon,” Isabel greeted, terse and tight.
“My lady Princess.”
“Your husband is charming,” she told me. “But don’t think I will soon forget your rough manners and your cold, cruel heart. No matter your title.”
“Cruel heart?” I asked her, surprised. “How can you—” I stopped, my voice fading.
How had I forgotten? She loved Gisbourne. It had been clear as day.
“You blame me,” I murmured. “For his death.”
She turned to me, glaring fierce but her eyes shining wet. “Who else is there to blame? If you could have loved him, cared for him at all—he would have been Earl of Huntingdon, and my husband wouldn’t have punished him. He would have succeeded.” She shook her head. “He didn’t deserve what you did to him.”
“Punished him,” I repeated, looking at my hand. “How did he punish him?”
“You know already,” she said bitter. “You know he—killed him.” Her voice failed her on that awful word. “He made me watch. He put the rope round his neck and told him to say good-bye to me.”
A tear skipped out of her eye, and she didn’t wipe it off. She squared her shoulders, and I wondered if this were the only way she could ever mourn him, in public, with only the defiance of not wiping off a tear.
“Isabel,” I whispered.
She shook her head. “Your fault. And you didn’t even wait until his body was cold to marry him—the incarnation of everything Guy couldn’t ever be,” she said, nodding to Rob on the field. “I won’t let people love him when they wouldn’t love Guy.”
My stomach sank, but worse, I didn’t blame her. We all had our own rebellion, and this were the only one a girl like Isabel, beautiful and trapped, could claim.
When the shooting broke, the ladies all stood to take some of the lavish food the servants had provided, and I caught Maud looking at my hand, not fully hidden in my skirts.
“What happened?” she asked, her hand on her chest. As if I didn’t know what she were talking about, she said, “To your hand.”
I glanced at Isabel, and she were watching me. “I was punished,” I told Maud.
“For what?” another woman asked.
Drawing a slow breath, I turned from Isabel’s gaze. “Displeasing the prince,” I said.
Lady Suffolk shook her head slow. “A woman should never face such treatment,” she said.
“A noblewoman at that,” another said.
“A favorite of the queen mother,” another said.
The women began to whisper and talk.
Isabel’s face folded down.
I went back to the benches.
We returned to our chambers to dress for dinner, and Rob smiled, coming to me. “We did well today,” he told me, putting his arms round my waist and kissing my neck.
I smiled, twisting to meet his lips instead. He kissed me full, catching my back with his full strength and pulling me off the ground. I broke the kiss, then thought better of it, kissing the corner of his mouth. “We did,” I agreed. “But I think you should go to dinner alone.”
He put me down. “And where exactly will you be?”
“London,” I told him. “Allan has a friend there—she helped us once. She’ll have access to a ship, and she’ll know people we can trust to steal the ransom for us.”
He sighed. “I don’t know about this plan, Scarlet.”
My shoulders lifted. “We have to get the money away from him. If Prince John controls the ransom, my father will never return, Prince John will be unstoppable, and you and I won’t survive. Nottingham won’t survive. All this courting favor and being a good little noble—it won’t matter. If we can’t get the money away from him, we don’t have a chance.”
He nodded. “I know. I just cannot believe we are planning to steal from our country. And that somehow, that may make us patriots instead of traitors.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t know if you should go to London alone.”
“Allan and David will come with me,” I told him. “You have to stay here and make excuses.”
His throat bobbed, and he looked at me, still holding me close. “Scar . . . you have to be careful, all right?” he murmured to me.
My eyebrows pulled together, but I nodded.
“I’ve only just married you,” he said. “I can’t lose you now.” His eyes shut, and his forehead pressed to mine. “You know there’s a chance you’re already with child, don’t you? So just . . . just think about that before you run into danger, yes?”
