Lion Heart

by A. C. Gaughen

  Like I would ever need such a reminder.

  I nodded to him, and I caught Isabel’s thoughtful, frowning gaze as she watched us. He straightened and offered her his arm, and her ladies closed behind them as they turned to walk along the river.

  “Must be my turn,” Winchester said, coming up beside me and catching my hand. He tucked it into his arm. “Your Grace.”

  “Your Grace,” I returned with a sigh.

  “Is she all right?” he murmured to me, his eyes drifting after Margaret.

  I smiled, watching her walk. “Yes. She’s made of strong stuff,” I told him.

  He straightened a little. “I know,” he said. He sighed. His eyes darted away and back. “And here we go.”

  “Your Grace,” someone said, and we turned to an older man. “Who is this beauty on your arm? You haven’t gone and gotten married, have you?”

  “Suffolk, I haven’t ever enjoyed the kind of luck I would have needed to snare her,” Winchester said. “Roger Bigod, Earl of Suffolk, may I introduce Marian Locksley, Lady of Huntingdon. Marian, you’ll remember his son was one of the lords to answer Eleanor’s call for knights.”

  He bowed over my hand with a cry of surprise. “Huntingdon, really? That’s been created again?”

  Winchester nodded solemn. “One of the final acts before Richard was captured.”

  Suffolk’s stare became piercing, calculating. “You must be very important to him, my lady.”

  “She is,” Winchester said, raising his eyebrows.

  “Come, Winchester, you must be sporting and tell what you know,” Suffolk said.

  Winchester glanced toward me, and back at Suffolk. “Far be it for me to say such, my lord, but King Richard feels quite . . . paternal about her.”

  The man’s eyes widened, and he turned to stare at me, taking in my face, looking me up and down, like there were pieces of the king hiding in my face, like King Richard would jump out of my skirts at any moment.

  And then he smiled at me. “Hm,” he said.

  “I was most grateful to see Hugh in the north assisting the queen,” Winchester said.

  Suffolk turned from me and beamed. “Yes, he’s a good son. Now if I can just get him married—you’d set an excellent example in that regard, Winchester.”

  Winchester’s jaw tightened.

  “But Locksley, eh?” Suffolk asked, turning back to me. “That was the old earl, of course. Excellent man. Clearly you’re not his daughter.”

  I opened my mouth, but Winchester smiled instead. “Daughter by law,” Winchester said. “You’ll be interested to know Robin Locksley, her husband, is returned to court.”

  “Really?” asked Suffolk. “We have all heard such tales of his bravery. It is a credit to the peerage to have him back amidst our ranks.”

  “His valor and honor are barely done justice by tales and songs,” I told him, able to speak at last. “It would be a happy task to introduce you to him.”

  Winchester beamed at me, nodding slight.

  “When did this marriage happen?” Suffolk asked. “I find myself amazed that I have not heard of it.”

  “Just shy of a fortnight past,” Winchester said. “A beautiful, joyous affair. I believe the queen mother had all of her minstrels attend to tell Richard of it upon his return.”

  His eyebrows shot up, like this were information of particular value. “Ah, a new bride then. We must find a way to properly fete you,” he told me. “And your happiness.”

  A celebration—when England were on the brink of tearing itself apart. “Your Grace, your notice and happy wishes are certainly celebration enough. I confess I couldn’t find greater happiness.” Except if your prince stopped killing people I love, of course.

  “Your Grace, you must excuse us; a new commodity at court must be widely introduced,” Winchester said, like this were a roguish joke.

  Suffolk chuckled. “Of course. Your Grace, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Suffolk said. He dropped his head to me, and I bobbed a curtsy.

  Winchester led me away. “You did very well,” he told me, patting my hand in his arm. “He is the only earl to outrank you, and his approval will sway many others.”

  “Does that mean I can quit with the curtsies and silly garden walks yet?” I asked.

  “Not nearly,” he told me.

  “Christ,” I muttered.

  “He’s here too,” he said, pointing to an abbot’s hat. “The Abbot of Westminster. The abbey is not far from the palace.”

  “You’re very sacrilegious,” I told him.

  He shrugged. “Ask him. I’m fairly sure he believes it.”

  Drawing a breath, I started toward him. Winchester lifted an eyebrow at me. “I don’t know many things, Winchester, but if we’re robbing the English Crown, we need Christ on our side.”

  He laughed.

  CHAPTER

  By noon, I’d met at least thirty members of the nobility—the women in clusters, eager to fawn over Winchester and Rob, and the men ambling singly around for the most part.

  Then the sun rose high and the men grouped, arguing about whether to shoot or hunt as servants brought out tables, piling them with food.

  Lady Suffolk, the earl’s elegant old wife, protested that they had to shoot so that the ladies could be within an appropriate distance to admire them.

  Rob came to me and kissed me light. “I wonder if it’s better to win or lose to someone important,” Rob murmured with a grin.

  I pushed him, grinning back. “Win, or I won’t know who you are when you return,” I told him with a laugh.

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” he told me, giddy like a child as his hand slid on my neck, bringing me to him for a dizzy kiss.

  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 de
fiance 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?”

  I shut my eyes too. “All the more reason to do this now,” I told him.

  He nodded against me. “All right. Go. Be back as soon as you can.”

  I let go of him, digging through his things and finding a black tunic and pants, tugging on my leather boots and a heavy cloak. When I opened my door, Allan were smiling and David were slapping his hand away.

  “My lady,” David said, bowing to me.

  “My lady,” Allan said, mocking a curtsy.

  “Let’s go see Kate,” I told them.

  “No,” Kate said, striding down the dock and away from us. “Absolutely not.”

  “Kate!” Allan protested.

  She stopped, spinning on her heel to push her finger at his chest. “Are you mad?” she demanded. “Steal from the royal treasury? Steal from the king’s ransom?”

  “Not steal it as such,” I said, peering round Allan on the narrow dock. “More like hold it until he shows his true colors.”

  “Until Prince John, the man who cut off the fingers of his own niece shortly before trying to murder her, figures it out, you mean?” She shook her head and stomped up the gangplank of the ship. There were children on board her boat, some older, most younger.

  I started up the plank, but Allan put his arm out across my chest to stop me.

  David pushed him off. “Don’t touch her, Allan,” he snapped.

  “It’s very bad form to board a ship without permission, lady thief,” Allan told me.

  Kate stood on the deck of her ship, her arms crossed. “Permission not granted,” she told me. “You want all of us to risk our lives? You’d kill us all.”

  “You’re awful cavalier with their lives already, doing what you do,” I told her. “Don’t pretend you lot shrink from danger.”

  She scowled. “I don’t make decisions for them. We’ll discuss it, and I’ll let you know.”

  “We don’t have long.”

  “There is always enough time to let people make their own choice,” she said. “Or we’re not doing it.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Fine. Let me know as soon as you can.” I looked to Allan, and he nodded once. “Allan will come back for your decision.”

  She nodded, and didn’t move from her ship as we left, darkness falling on our heels.

  CHAPTER

  The next morning, Rob and I were bare dressed when Margaret sent us word that her father were meant to arrive within the hour. We went to her chambers together, and found Winchester stalking the halls before her room like a lion.

  “Quincy,” Rob said.

  Winchester stopped. He looked like he hadn’t slept.

  “What are you doing?” Rob asked.

  “Her father will arrive soon,” Winchester said. “I’m just . . . thinking. What to say. How to convince him. What Prince John could have possibly offered him.”

  “Winchester,” I said. “You must offer him a show of strength. He won’t respond to your feelings for her—you know that. Or he would never have agreed to such a match in the first place.”

  Winchester drew a breath, his whole chest heaving up.

  Rob glanced at me and stepped closer to Winchester, talking to him quiet with his hand on his shoulder, and I knocked at Margaret’s door. A servant answered, but Margaret emerged a moment later.

  She saw Winchester, and Rob stepped aside as she walked toward him. He bent to her, kissing her.

  I heard the servant make a noise of surprise, but I glared at her and she ducked back into the room.

  Rob took my hand as Margaret let go of Winchester, and he wiped a tear off her cheek, staring at her. “I won’t let this happen,” he murmured to her.

  She nodded, kissing him quick once more. “You shouldn’t be here when he arrives.”

  “I don’t care. I will be anyway,” he told her.

  She smiled at him.

  “As will we,” Rob told her.

  She looked at us like she hadn’t noticed us before, and she nodded. “He’ll be here any moment,” she said.

  I nodded, and Winchester offered her his arm.

  We were all quiet as we walked through the palace to the courtyard where we had been received. To my surprise, Isabel were there, standing tall with her flock behind her as the gates opened and riders came through.

  The Earl of Leicester rode up to us, taking a moment to look over the assembled people before dismounting. He weren’t caked with dust from the road, so I rather thought he cleaned himself—or changed his clothes—before entering the palace.

  He gave his horse to one of the servants that ran up to help him, and turned his eyes to Isabel. He gave her a deep bow.

  “My lady Princess,” he greeted.

  She bobbed her head. “Your Grace,” she said. />
  Margaret stepped forward and he embraced her, kissing her cheek. “Margaret, you look well,” he told her.

  “Thank you, Father,” she said soft.

  She stayed to the side of him, and he looked at Rob, but his gaze settled on Winchester. Leicester bowed his head, but didn’t bow, and Winchester did the same. “My lord Leicester,” he said.

  “Winchester. Surprised to see you out here.”

  “I escorted your daughter from the queen mother’s side to London,” he said. “A happy task.”

  Leicester’s eyes settled on Rob, and then on me. He looked at my scar, and I saw his eyes run down my arm to where my hand were hidden in my skirts. “You must be the Earl and Lady of Huntingdon,” he said, his voice careful and even.

  I curtsied to him, and Rob bowed. “My lord,” Rob greeted.

  He glanced about, though we were in a very open space and were the only ones there. “Where is young de Clare? He did not come to greet me?”

  “Lord de Clare has little in the way of graces to recommend him,” Isabel said.

  Margaret looked down, and the earl took this in as well. “Hm,” he said.

  “My lord, my servants will lead you to a room to refresh yourself,” Isabel said. “Or, if you would prefer, we would be honored for you to join us in the gardens. My ladies and I were just going for a walk.”

  “I would prefer to walk,” he said, patting his legs. “Far too long in the saddle.” He turned to Margaret. “But I will need a few moments alone with my daughter,” he said.

  Isabel gave a gracious nod and swept off toward the gardens. Her ladies followed behind her, and Isabel shot a glare over her shoulder at me.

  “Come along, Quincy,” Rob said. “We can’t wait here for her.”

  Winchester’s eyes were hard, watching Leicester. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, this cannot go on a moment longer.”

  Rob reached for his arm, but Winchester shook him off, striding forward. “My lord, before you speak with your daughter, I must insist on a private audience with you.”

  Leicester looked at Winchester and paused a long moment. “Margaret, go with Huntingdon. I will meet you in the gardens.”