Robert nodded. “He says he is holding him at Terrington and has requested my immediate presence.”
“Where did he find him? Did he say who your enemy is?”
“He says naught other than that his men found a wounded man nigh Fosterly’s border who claims I was the one who ran him through.”
Beth groaned and threw up her hands. “Well, didn’t he think you’d be curious? The suspense is going to kill me!” Suddenly, she perked up, her face brightening in a way that warned Robert he would not like the next words that emerged from her lips. “I’m going with you.”
“Nay, Beth,” he countered, hoping to head off the determination he could see raising her chin and straightening her shoulders. “You will remain here.”
“No way.” Turning, she started to hurry away.
“Beth—” He broke off when she spun around and returned to his side.
Leaning up onto her toes, she grasped his shoulders, tugged him down until her lips could reach his ear, and whispered, “Does Marcus know about the secret passage?”
“Aye.” Dillon, Alyssa, Michael, Marcus, Adam and Stephen—all of those he trusted absolutely—knew.
Her heels hit the floor. “Good. Don’t leave until I get back.”
While Robert frowned and a bemused Marcus watched, she raced for the secret passage, opened it, and disappeared into the darkness.
Robert looked at Marcus. “Think you I can don my armor and leave ere Lady Bethany comes charging back in here, intent on accompanying me?”
“Nay.”
“Nor do I. But let us try.”
Beth catapulted herself back into the solar via the passage just as Robert was buckling on his sword belt. “Okay. I’m ready,” she announced, breathless. She had managed to don another of Alyssa’s gowns in record time. The kirtle was olive green and laced up the sides. The linen undertunic was bright white. Both were just short enough on her to leave the toes of her boots exposed.
“Beth,” Robert began with a forbidding expression, “you will not accompany me.”
“Aye, I will,” she insisted, fastening the end of her long braid with her elastic tie. “I don’t know how the justice system works here, but if you’re heading over there to kick your enemy’s arse, I’m damned well going to be there to cheer you on.”
Marcus stifled a laugh.
Robert, however, looked less than amused. He crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. “I know you better than that, love. You say you want to watch me punish the blackguard who has been attacking my people, but, in truth, what you wish to do is guard my back.”
Beth opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. Bringing her own arms up and crossing them under her breasts, she mirrored his stance. “So? A man can’t have too many friends at his back. Isn’t that right, Marcus?”
Marcus eyed Robert warily before answering. “Though my lord’s glare advises me to say otherwise, my lady, I must agree with you. Why do I not go in your stead? Then I can ensure Lord Robert’s safety as well as your own.”
Robert threw his arms up in apparent frustration. “Saints! Have you both forgotten that I am fully capable of fighting my own battles? Has my inability to apprehend my enemy myself so eroded your faith in me?”
“Nay!” Marcus hastened to deny.
“No!” Beth practically shouted at the same time. She did not want Robert to think they doubted him and proceeded to praise his skills as a warrior as effusively as she could.
Marcus did the same, each of them talking over the other.
“Enough!” Robert barked.
Silence settled upon them.
“Maybe,” Beth suggested tentatively, “we could all go. Then I could meet your neighbor.”
“Beth, you will remain here at Fosterly. With Marcus,” he added, glaring at his squire. “Michael, Stephen, and Adam will accompany me. We will be in no danger.”
“You don’t know that,” she persisted. Damn it. She had to go with him.
“I am not riding into battle, sweetling,” he said with exaggerated patience. “The man has already been taken. Lord Edward has no doubt confined him to his dungeon.”
“Well, how do you know this isn’t a trap?” Beth countered, the anxiety that had crept up on her as she had dressed increasing, every instinct telling her she needed to remain by Robert’s side. “Maybe there are two of them. Or more.” When her hands began to shake, she drew her damp palms down the sides of her skirt. Her heart began to beat more quickly. Her body began to tremble.
She felt panicky all of a sudden as memories converged on her and fear for Robert’s safety grew.
Unable to stand still, she began to pace. “Maybe there are others out there, lying in wait for you somewhere along the way. I mean, maybe the man Lord Edward found isn’t even your enemy. Maybe he’s just posing as your enemy while your real enemy actually waits to ambush you on the road. It’s possible, Robert. You can’t deny it’s possible.”
“Beth.” His voice turned soft, coaxing. “You admitted yourself that you are unfamiliar with our methods of fighting, so you will have to trust me when I say that even were I ambushed and outnumbered four to one, I would emerge the victor.” Snagging her hand, he halted her nervous movements. “I say this not as a boast, but to ease your mind. ’Tis a simple errand I am about. Verily, you need not worry.”
She stared up at him, the backs of her eyes beginning to burn. “Josh and I were on a simple errand. Look what happened to him.”
A simple errand. A long shot. So long a long shot that Josh had felt secure in bringing her for backup in place of Grant.
Beth had actually been excited, full of adrenaline.
Then the first shots had rung out and she had forgotten everything he had taught her.
But she knew better now. She could protect Robert. She would protect Robert. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. She wouldn’t lose him the way she had lost Josh.
“You never told me what happened to you and your brother that day,” he broached. “Not really.”
And she would rather not do so now, but… “It was my fault,” she said, a kind of weary hopelessness suffusing her. “I should never have hung back when he told me to. I just stood there and let him go on alone. And then the shooting started and…” Beth shook her head, grief and guilt a constant, heavy weight in her chest. “I should have been with him. If I had been with Josh when he entered the clearing, it might have all ended differently. Kingsley and Vergoma might not have caught him off guard. Or maybe they wouldn’t have fought being taken into custody if they knew he wasn’t alone. Maybe they would have just cut their losses and surrendered themselves. Or slunk away. Then they wouldn’t have shot him or shot me and we wouldn’t have both fallen in that damned clearing and I never would have—” A sob checked her words.
Blinking back the moisture that blurred her vision, she saw Robert’s jaw tighten.
“You never would have come here,” he finished for her.
His words struck her like a punch to the chest. “What?” she whispered.
“Was that not what you were going to say?” he asked, his eyes reflecting the hurt he wouldn’t allow his face to show. “You never would have come here. You never would have met me or—”
“Robert, no,” she interrupted, forcing the words past her tight throat. “I was going to say I never would have failed Josh so miserably.”
Robert’s Adams apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard.
Marcus quietly left the chamber, closing the door behind him.
“You believe me, don’t you?” she pressed, holding Robert’s gaze.
“Beth, after everything you have told me of your world—”
“You can’t think I regret coming here. That I regret what we’ve shared. The time we’ve
had together.” Never had she intended to even imply such a thing. “You can’t think that, Robert. Because I don’t. Not one minute of it. Not one second. I promise.” And did not want him to feel the pain that would crush her if he were to say he regretted it.
“Come here, love,” Robert said, his stony face softening. Sliding his arms around her, he drew her into a loose embrace. “’Twas not my wish to distress you further.”
Beth buried her face in his chest and squeezed him closer for a moment, then tilted her head back so she could meet his tender gaze. “I love you, Robert. You know that, right?” And how wonderful it felt to say it.
He pressed his lips to hers. “I do. And I love you, Beth. Forgive me for dismissing your concerns for my safety. I knew not that you were thinking of your brother.”
Warmed by his words, she rested her face upon his chest. “I wasn’t at first. Not consciously anyway. It just sort of crept up on me while I was rushing to get dressed.”
Robert lifted her into his arms. How effortless he made it seem.
Crossing to the hearth, he seated himself in one of the chairs before it and settled her comfortably in his lap. “Tell me again what happened that day.”
Smoothing her hand across his tunic, Beth leaned into him. “You don’t have time for this, Robert. You need to go to Terrington.”
“As I said, my enemy—if the man Lord Edward has captured is indeed the man for whom I have been searching—is being held at Terrington. He will keep.”
“But—”
“You are more important to me, Beth. Please, tell me what happened that day.”
Her stomach churned. “I screwed up,” she told him, almost sick with shame as she admitted both to Robert and to herself what pained her most when she thought of it. That Josh was most likely dead because of her.
Tears clogged her throat, making it impossible to speak for a moment.
Robert waited patiently, caressing her back in long soothing strokes.
“We were looking for two men accused of murder who had skipped bail. Or escaped,” she added for clarification purposes.
She told him everything then, recounting as best she could the events that had transpired. Admittedly, some of it was fuzzy. And despite her resolve not to, she ended up breaking down and crying, her tears soaking the front of Robert’s tunic. The guilt of failing Josh crushed her. The pain of not knowing if her brother had survived or died, of suspecting the latter and believing her actions had contributed, was like a virus that ate away at her and wore her down no matter how busy she kept herself or how hard she tried not to think about it.
“In truth, Beth, you did what any of us would have done,” Robert said when she finished. “You knew your brother was in trouble, and you acted.”
“But don’t you see?” She swiped impatiently at her tears. “I didn’t think. I just charged into the clearing, right into the line of fire.”
“I have done the same myself on numerous occasions,” he pointed out.
“But I was useless! I was just a distraction!”
“You were another weapon at Josh’s disposal.”
“I should’ve circled the clearing instead of just racing in there. I could have worked my way around and come up behind Kingsley and—”
“Did you not tell me that drought afflicted the forest that surrounded you?”
She frowned. “Yes, but—”
“Even the most cautious individual cannot avoid making a sound when stepping upon brittle leaves and grasses. Had you attempted to sneak up behind them, they would have heard you coming.”
“Even if they had, it might’ve worked in our favor, because Josh could’ve gotten the drop on them when they turned their attention on me.”
“Would he not have been more likely to do something rash to draw their attention back to himself and protect you?”
Yes, damn it. That was exactly what Josh would have done. “I could’ve called 911 before I ran to the clearing.”
“Do you mean call for help? On your cell phone?”
She had tried to explain how her cell phone worked, but had received an I-trust-you-so-I’ll-take-your-word-for-it-but-it-seems-unbelievable look. “Aye,” she answered.
“Was your cell phone not in your backpack?”
“Aye,” she said again, aware of how long it would have taken her to dig it out.
“Help would not have arrived in time, and your brother would have been left to face them alone, without the additional weapon you threw to him.”
Beth stared at him helplessly. “So, you’re saying it was a lose-lose situation. That no matter what path I chose, I was screwed. We both were.”
Robert smoothed her hair back from her face with a gentle hand. “You speak as though your brother was dead when last you saw him, Beth. Did you not tell me he still breathed when darkness claimed you?”
Sorrow stabbed her as she thought of her last impression of him. Lying so close to her. Blood staining his clothing. Chest rising and falling with short, pained breaths. “Yes. I wanted to go to him, but I couldn’t. The pain was…” She shuddered, remembering.
Robert tightened his hold on her and pressed his lips to her temple, lending comfort.
“I managed to reach out and touch his hair.” More tears welled. It had been soft and dusty. “He was alive, Robert. I know he was, even though the bullets passed through his vest the way they did mine. But I don’t know how long he could’ve lasted, especially if one of them hit an artery.”
“You remember naught after that?” he asked softly.
She struggled to dispel the shadows that shielded those final moments. “Sometimes when I first wake up in the morning, I remember a man looming over me.” She frowned. “Not Kingsley or Vergoma. Someone else.”
“A third criminal?”
“I don’t know. We were only looking for the two, but they could’ve had help. There could have been others with them.” She shook her head. “To be honest, I’m not sure it really happened. The third man leaning over me, I mean. I think maybe my memory is playing tricks on me or I was hallucinating from the pain or blood loss or something.”
“Why?”
“Because the man was wearing a long black robe. The kind of robe a monk might wear.” And he had smelled of exotic spices. “All he needed was a scythe and he would’ve been the stereotypical personification of Death.”
When Robert didn’t offer a response, she leaned back and studied him.
His face went blank, which she knew meant something troubled him and he was trying to hide it.
“What is it?” she asked, stomach sinking.
“The man wore a dark robe?”
She nodded. “It had a hood and—as I said—reminded me of something a monk might wear. Although I don’t think a monk would have that much hair.”
“What do you mean?”
“He had this amazing, long hair that fell all the way down to his waist.”
“What color was it?”
“Black.”
The most peculiar expression blanketed his features then. One she couldn’t decipher.
Did he think it sounded as crazy as she did? A man with hair down to his waist garbed in a monk’s robe in the forest outside of Houston, Texas?
Yeah, right.
“I know it sounds weird,” she offered hesitantly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
Relaxing, he drew her in and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. “Nay, sweetling. I want you to share your troubles with me. Never hesitate to do so.”
Relieved, Beth squeezed him back. “Thank you. For listening. I think it helped to talk about it.” Though the guilt remained, her spirit did feel a bit lighter.
“Good.” Kissing the top of her head, he carefully eased her
off his lap and stood. “Have you any weapons you wish to fetch? ’Tis time we were on our way.”
Excitement rose as Beth looked up at him. “I can go with you?”
“Aye.”
“And I can bring my weapons?”
“Only the smaller ones that can be hidden beneath your skirts.”
Woohoo! Throwing her arms around his neck, she pressed a hasty kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Robert! It’ll just take me a minute.” She would bring her Glock and the .22. And maybe her hunting knife. Could she fit the Ruger beneath her skirts, too?
“I shall go down now and ensure that Marcus has saddled Berserker.”
Which reminded Beth of the secret she had been keeping, hoping to surprise him. “I can ride now,” she boasted.
His eyebrows rose. “Your own mount?”
“Aye. Adam has been giving me lessons between bouts of cleaning.” Much of Fosterly was spic-and-span now.
Robert smiled. “Adam has, you say?”
“Aye.”
“And did he perchance speak during these lessons?”
Beth laughed. “Not much. Mostly he kept me from falling off the horse while Michael or Stephen or whoever else happened by shouted advice from the sidelines.”
Robert chuckled. “Then you shall have your own mount, if you feel confident enough. I will gauge how much you have learned while we ride and take command of your lessons myself.”
“Good.” Leaning up onto her toes, Beth kissed him and said with a wink, “You’ve taught me so much already.”
He groaned. “Temptress.” Turning her around, he gave her bottom a playful swat. “Fetch your weapons before I toss you back in bed and join you there.”
Grinning, Beth hurried through the passage.
As soon as Beth disappeared into the secret passage, Robert sank down into the chair behind him. Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands.
Disbelief gave way to panic, then fury, then dread.
A gifted one had been present when Beth had nigh been slain.
Rendezvous With Yesterday Page 27