Lion Heart

by A. C. Gaughen

  He looked ahead. “In some ways,” he told me. “Yet I think if she found a way to break free of court, she’d be rather similar to you indeed.”

  This thought startled me, but I thought it better not to say anything to that.

  We reached the castle and the knights set running about, and before we reached the upper bailey, David were there with Allan behind him, and Rob were striding across the courtyard.

  “My lady!” David cried when we were closer. He dropped to one knee. “I didn’t think—I should have thought to protect you, my lady. I cannot ask for your forgiveness.”

  “Forgiveness isn’t needed, David. Please stand up.”

  “What happened?” Rob asked, shouldering past David. “They said you were hurt.”

  I turned my face to him. “A few bruises and scrapes, Rob, nothing serious.” His hand slid into my unbandaged one, unthinking, like it belonged there.

  “A man, either one of the Nottingham knights or dressed to look like him, drew her outside of the city and tried to kill her,” Essex explained, his face ever stern. He were watching me, and watching Rob, and looking at our hands.

  Rob’s hand tightened on mine. “He’s dead?” Rob said, looking at me.

  I nodded. “He had me,” I admitted. “I wasn’t expecting it, and he nearly got me. Essex stopped him,” I said, looking to the earl.

  “How were you there?” Rob asked him.

  “I saw them going out. The knight refused my escort of the lady, and the more I thought about that, there was no good reason he would do such a thing. So I followed you,” he told me.

  Rob’s frown turned grim and dark. “Prince John tried to assassinate you.”

  “Again, it would seem,” I told him. “Who else was with these knights and wants me dead?”

  “I should have been there,” David said.

  “Yes,” Rob said. “You should have.”

  I pulled my hand away from Rob’s. “Rob!” I snapped.

  “And I should have been there,” Rob snapped back, turning away from me with a curse. “If he can get to you here, Scarlet, you will never be safe.”

  “Oh, stop, the lot of you,” I said, glaring at each in turn. “I’m not safe. I was never safe. Of course he wants to kill me. He also seems to want his brother dead, and I will not let that happen.” My eyes rested on Rob. “If you want me to be safe, we need to pay the tax, protect the money, and bring Richard home.”

  Rob sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “How about we start with cleaning you up, and then we’ll save the kingdom.”

  I crossed my arms, then winced when it made me feel a bruise on my side. “Fine.”

  Essex bowed to me. “My lady, I should go speak with Winchester, but we should speak tomorrow. I have a matter I’d like to discuss with you.”

  I nodded. “Very well. Thank you for your valor today, my lord.”

  He straightened, and nodded once.

  Rob brought me inside, fixing me up, cleaning the scratches on my face. Nothing needed stitching, and he didn’t speak to me until he were finished.

  “Tomorrow,” he said. “Will you hunt with me?”

  I looked at his face, his handsome face, and nodded. “Yes.”

  That night I slept in the hayloft, half hoping Rob would go there looking for a place to sleep, but he didn’t. I slept alone, cold and wary as the night crept on.

  I woke in the early morning, and before I found Rob, I found Essex in the Great Hall, eating bread. He saw me and stopped, coming from the table to me.

  “My lord,” I said to him, inclining my head.

  “My lady,” he said, bowing. “Do you have a moment for us to speak?”

  I nodded, glancing at Rob as he entered the hall. “Yes. Why don’t we walk down to the tournament grounds?” I suggested. It were the only part that were close to the castle and still far enough to allow us privacy.

  He nodded once, and offered me his arm. I hesitated for a moment, but I took it.

  Once we were away from the noise of the others, he glanced at me. “I’ve been frank with you thus far, my lady. I’m hoping that’s a trait you appreciate.”

  My eyebrows pulled together. “Yes. Quite so.”

  “I support your efforts to curb the power of the prince,” he told me. “And I believe that I can help you win Isabel’s favor. But as yesterday clearly demonstrated, you are vulnerable.”

  “I will always be vulnerable,” I admitted.

  He looked at me. “Not necessarily. You command a tremendous amount of land and wealth now; if you were to ally with another earl, your power would be greater than that of the prince.”

  I stopped. “Ally.”

  He drew a breath. “Before I left her, the queen mother asked me to consider whether you would be a suitable wife for me.” I stepped back. “I told her no. Yet over the past days, you have impressed me, and that is not easily done.”

  “My lord, I—”

  “You care for the sheriff,” he said low. “And you have already guessed my affections lie elsewhere. But both of those are people we cannot have, Lady Marian. And I do believe we could be friends, which is more than I’ve hoped for in a match. More importantly, it would protect us both against Prince John. And your grandmother would be very pleased.”

  “Stop, please,” I said.

  He looked at me, with his same stern expression. “Consider it.”

  I shook my head slow. “No, my lord. Thank you—you’re right that it would be a wise decision. We’d be powerful beyond measure, and maybe that would stop Prince John. Or perhaps it would make him more angry, and more desperate. But I won’t let Prince John steal my choices or force my hand. Especially not concerning this.”

  His mouth opened, but I shook my head.

  “You cannot marry Isabel because she’s already married, but I can marry Rob. I will marry Rob.”

  He nodded once. “Does he want to marry you, Marian?” he asked me. “He cares for you, that much is clear. But he’s an honorable man—and though he was born a noble, he’s not one now. He knows better than most what a marriage could purchase you. Will he marry you, knowing what he will be keeping you from?”

  I stared at him, horrified that I didn’t have a sure answer for that.

  “As I said, Marian, this would be a match of friendship and gain; if he will have you, I wish you the best.” He stepped closer to me, catching my full hand and bringing it to his mouth. “I must go attend to the queen. I’ll leave in the afternoon, but should you find yourself in need of a husband, my offer will stand.”

  He kissed my hand, and let it go.

  CHAPTER

  I were quiet and stunned as I returned to the Great Hall. Rob were there, ordering people into groups to hunt. He led us into Sherwood, glancing at me but not saying anything. Allan had declined to come, so I were with Rob and David and Godfrey, and we walked into the forest, toward a clearing in the woods where we’d always had good luck with hunting before. In the undisturbed deep of the forest the animals were out roaming, young ones hobbling along beside them, frighting as we came through but sure to return as soon as we were still.

  “Scar, you and I will go up,” Rob said, pointing to a good tree with a wide, stable heart where we could sit for a long while. “David, Godfrey, lie in the brush.”

  David looked to me and I nodded, and he and Godfrey went off to obey. I swallowed as I looked at the tree. “Rob,” I said soft.

  His eyes met mine.

  I turned my hands over, touching the stumps of my fingers. “I don’t know if I can climb anymore.”

  He looked me over, looked at my hands. “We’ll see.”

  “Rob—” I started, but he went toward the tree.

  My face flushed. I didn’t want to fall down the damn thing in front of him. I didn’t want to be this girl, who didn’t know much of what she were good at anymore. I crossed my bow over my shoulders and followed him with a sigh.

  He stood next to the tree. The first branch were just above h
is head, and before it wouldn’t have been a thought to jump and grab it, curl my legs up into the tree, gaining one branch and then the next, climbing fast.

  He stepped aside and I jumped for it. One hand held fast and the other slid right off, leaving me to swing, my shoulder burning with the effort. I grunted, letting go and frowning at him.

  His eyes met mine. “Again,” he said, nodding at it.

  “Rob—” I started.

  “Again,” he said gentle.

  I shook my head, but I did as he asked, and as my first hand fell he grabbed my knees. I looked down at him, and he nodded up again. He pushed up, and I could change my hold on the branch, with my palm on top to get a better grip.

  My arms were weaker than they’d been before, but I pulled myself up with a huff. Rob came up right behind me.

  “It doesn’t count as climbing if you’re doing half the work,” I told him.

  He shrugged, standing on the branch and pulling me up with him. There were more branches now, like stairs in the tree. “Then what does it count as?” he asked.

  I frowned, unsure.

  “Come on,” he said. “I’ll go up first. And if you need help, I’ll help.”

  Simple. But not simple at all.

  He started up the tree, and it were easy to follow him. My feet could do most of the work with my hands only guides and balances, and I tried to go faster, to keep pace with him.

  He made the heart of the tree before me, and he turned back and held out his arm. I grabbed it above the wrist and he pulled me up, close to him. “You beat me,” I told him.

  His head tilted. “Were we racing?”

  “No,” I said. I were the only one racing, it seemed.

  “Where should we set up?” he asked, looking about.

  “There,” I said, pointing to a wide branch with sturdy branches below it. I went to it and crouched, letting my legs hang off either side and catch the lower branches for stability. Rob sat a bit behind me, and we both took out our bows and arrows.

  Nervous, I started to test mine. I tried holding the bow in my whole hand and the string in my half, then reversed it. Then reversed it again.

  I felt Rob’s eyes on me, and turned to look at him. He looked up at my face. He’d been watching my hand.

  I turned away from him, feeling my stomach twist, feeling ugly and scarred and weak.

  “Can you use a knife with that hand?” he asked.

  I pulled one from my belt, showing him.

  He tested the grip, his fingers molding over mine and pushing, and nodded. “Impressive.”

  I looked at it. “I practiced with a rock. It’s not as strong as the other hand.”

  “Of course it isn’t, Scar. You lost two of your fingers. But the fact that you can hold a knife at all is incredible.”

  My eyes dropped to the bow, miserable. “I can’t do this, Rob.”

  He slid closer behind me, kissing my cheek quick before drawing his arms round me. He pressed my whole hand against the shaft of the bow, and slid my other hand on the string. He took an arrow, wedging it careful between my two remaining fingers, and I shifted my thumb to hold it against the string.

  He let go, and the arrow dropped, clattering slow through the tree. Birds flew off at the noise. “Dammit!” I snapped, trying to pull out of his arms.

  But we were on a tree branch, and he were blocking me, and I couldn’t get free without knocking him off. And considering the path the arrow took, I weren’t keen to do it just yet.

  “Hush,” he said against my ear. “Try again.”

  I twisted hard to glare at him. “What, Rob? You want to hear me say I’m some strange crippled girl and I’ll never shoot the bow again? That—that—without being able to hold these weapons I’m not sure of anything? What do you want?”

  His mouth hooked up. “I want you to try again,” he told me.

  He didn’t guide my hands as I clutched the arrow, trying to draw it on the string. I could hold all the parts, but I couldn’t aim it—I couldn’t even hold the damn thing straight, and my hand were cramping.

  I unstrung the arrow, shaking my hand out. “Hurts?” he asked.

  “Yes. Is that what you want to hear?” I grumped.

  He took the hand, rubbing the muscles.

  I pulled away. “I can’t do this, Rob.”

  His shoulders lifted. “Very well.”

  I frowned.

  He nodded into the clearing. “There’s a deer. Someone should probably shoot it.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He leaned back, crossing his arms and watching me. “Don’t feel like it.”

  “Don’t feel like it? Robin!”

  He lifted his shoulders again.

  “You’d really starve your people to prove a point?” I snapped.

  “Would you?” he returned.

  “Fine!” I snapped. I strung an arrow and aimed it. I let it fly, and it went so wild the deer didn’t even spook. “Fantastic,” I told him. “I hope I didn’t kill Godfrey. If they’re not laughing themselves to death down there.”

  His arms were around me again, guiding my hands. “Like this,” he said, shifting my fingers a bit. “Listen to your bow. Mind your breath. Find the moment, Scar. You can do this,” he whispered in my ear.

  I drew in a deep breath. My hand hurt holding the arrow, and I knew it were sweating I were holding it so tight. I let the breath out, waiting for the lull between heartbeats, and I let it go.

  “Hey!” Rob yelled, pointing as the arrow landed in the rump of the deer. It started, frightened and hurt, and it were disoriented enough that Godfrey could leap over and cut its throat.

  “I hit the ass,” I grunted.

  “Well, you’re acting like an ass, so that’s perfectly fine,” he told me.

  “I’m acting like—” I started to yell at him, but he ducked closer, tilting my chin to kiss him, feeling like maybe, hidden in a tree and acting like our old selves, the rules of the world didn’t apply. I only let it go a few moments too long, before pulling away with a frown.

  “You hit the deer,” he said soft. “You did it.”

  I glanced out. Godfrey and David were trussing the deer so they could move it from the clearing. “I hit the deer,” I allowed.

  He rubbed my cheek and turned my face back to his, waiting, and with a sigh I kissed him, twisting on the tree to have an easier time of it. He rubbed along my legs as we kissed, drawing one up and hooking it round his waist to pull me closer. I drew a breath through my nose, not breaking the kiss—with both of us in pants, it felt close. Very close. Bending my knee pushed him harder against me, and our lips broke as we both drew a ragged breath.

  “I love you, Scarlet,” he told me, his eyes dark and shimmery blue in the green shade of the trees.

  “I love you too,” I told him, not looking at him. He reached to kiss me again, and I leaned back. “We never finished that talk ’bout whether or not you want to marry me,” I told him, not looking up.

  He drew a breath, leaning back too. “I want to,” he said.

  I looked up at him, but he were looking out over the forest. “Talk or marry me?”

  His mouth twisted up. “Marry you, Scar.”

  “But.”

  He looked at me. “But you’re a noblewoman. I can’t forget that.”

  “I’m a bastard with royal blood and royal favor,” I told him. “You were the one born a noble.”

  “You can protect Nottinghamshire if you marry, Scar. You must realize that.”

  I crossed my arms. “I do. Essex just offered for my hand this morning, in fact.”

  “He what?”

  “Yes. Said that would be the best way to protect me, and protect Nottinghamshire.”

  Color crept up Rob’s face. “Essex? Winchester says he’s Isabel’s lackey. You’d marry him?”

  “Who else did you have in mind? Winchester’s not married. Should I wed him? How about de Clare—he’s not an earl, but he’ll inherit an earldom,” I taunted. “If
I don’t mind a cruel, twisted man for a husband, of course.”

  “Scarlet!” he growled at me.

  “What?” I demanded. “You want to toss me to another man like I’m some thing that can be traded for power and wealth? You think that will protect Nottingham? You think that will stop Prince John?”

  “You need to think!” he snapped.

  “No!” I snapped back. “You need to think. Like a thief—like a girl. Like all the people that get their power and their choices taken away from them. I won’t be one of them. I will hold the earldom as my own if I have to.”

  “And I have no doubt you can. But it will be easier—”

  “With a man I don’t love and don’t want and don’t care about, touching me, making me have his children, silencing me? That won’t be easier.”

  “And you think I’m such a prize?” he shouted at me. “You’d take me over an earl? You think I’ll make it easier, with my nightmares, with my scars?”

  I pushed forward, taking his face in my hands. “I have scars, Rob. I’m not frightened of your dreams. I love you, and you make me stronger. You make me stronger than wealth or power. And together, if you just choose to be together, we can save Nottingham.”

  He were breathing hard with anger, staring at my eyes, his chest rising and bringing him close to me. With a grunted noise he pushed forward against my hands, our mouths meeting. I thought it would be some frantic thing to match the anger in his body, but it were deep, and slow, and full like everything he felt were unspoken on his tongue.

  I heard a rustle and turned my head, looking out in the clearing as his mouth shifted with me, moving under my ear. He swept my hair back, tasting my skin. “Rob,” I whispered. “Stag.”

  He nodded, and I grabbed his bow, putting it in one hand and an arrow in the other. He kept kissing my neck, and I felt him fumbling with the weapons behind me.

  “Rob, I should—” I started.

  “Stay still,” he murmured, straightening to look at my eyes. He glanced once—once—over my shoulder into the glen. “Kiss me,” he said.