A Knight's Vow Part 26

"An honest man-a soldier-who has done no harm to anyone," she said, knowing as she did that she was destroying herself and quite possibly her father. But she could not let Robin be killed for her own careless actions.

"Your father told me you were a virgin, a woman above reproach," Kellum said with disgust. "And I find you rolling in the gra.s.s with a... commoner." He had put his dirk in its sheath, but his hand was still on its hilt, and she could see he was barely controlling his rage. She had not yet accepted him, and still he was acting the betrayed husband. His brown eyes were dark with fury, his lips bent with contempt.

She had no excuses to make. Her gown was half off, her hair laced with leaves, and she knew her lips were swollen. Any excuse she might attempt would place blame on Robin and most certainly bring about his death.

"There is no blame but my own," she said as she stood, positioning herself over the unconscious minstrel.

His eyes bore into her. "I will leave in the morrow," he said. "My offer, of course, no longer stands. Even your marriage portion could not... make marriage palatable with a..."

He stopped himself with obvious effort, but he did not have to finish. Five men, including one of her other suitors, stood watching with varying expressions on their faces.

Lord Manfield stepped up, his eyes sympathetic. He was, she knew, the one her sister wanted. And if his eyes were any test of the soul, he wanted her sister too. He knelt next to Robin. "Not a fatal blow," he said.

"He must be the trespa.s.ser we've been seeking," Kellum said. "A poacher, most likely. We will take him back to Clenden. Her father can decide his fate."

Lynet looked down at her minstrel. The bleeding had stopped, but he had not moved. Her father would be furious, but he was a fair man. He would not seek the man's death for her own indiscretion. It meant, though, that her father would send her to a convent. He would have no choice. She'd disgraced the family name.

The thought of never seeing Robin again was devastating. She'd hoped she could avoid a loveless marriage. She'd preferred a tranquil life either at home or in a convent. But that was before she'd known the joy-the exquisite pleasure-of being with Robin. Before irresistible urges had occurred inside her body. The sensations lingered. New and intoxicating and wonderful.

But dangerous. Very dangerous feelings for someone like her. And Robin.

"Let him go," she said.

"Nay, my lady. I think not. Your father should be made aware of your... conduct. And this... knave's. I believe Lord Clenden would want to know this man has been skulking around, seducing his daughter."

She stood tall. Her eyes met his. "The man is twice the man you are, Robert. He did not avoid the king's service."

The slur appeared not to bother him. "It depends which king you are talking about, my lady. Is he York?

Or Lancaster?"

A trap. She knew it instantly. He could use her answer against her. And her father.

Manfield faced Kellum. "Enough," he said. "This man needs care. And I do not care for your att.i.tude toward Lady Lynet. She has not accepted you. She owes you nothing."

Grat.i.tude surged through her. Her sister was fortunate.

"Thank you," she said.

His face softened. "One cannot choose whom they love," he said, his glance going to Kellum, then

returning to the man still lying on the ground. "And often for good reason. But I do think it wise to take

this man to Clenden. He needs attention."

Kellum granted with disgust. He kicked away the lute on the ground, and Lynet reached down to rescue it. It was obviously Robin's only possession of any value.

Robin moved slightly and groaned.

Kellum signaled for the accompanying men in arms to take him, but Manfield pushed them aside and

stooped down again. He shook the minstrel once, then twice. Another slight groan but his eyes did not open. He turned to Lynet. "What is his name?"

"Robin."

Kellum's eyes narrowed. "Robin what?"

Lynet could not answer, and the silence was d.a.m.ning. Not only was she cavorting with a commoner, she

did not even know his full name.

"Mayhap our host can solve this mystery at Clenden," Kellum said. "I for one do not intend to waste

more time there. Do as you wish." He strode away toward the trees and then and only then, did Lynet see the horses there. How could they both have missed the approaching horses and men?

Then she remembered that magical moment when nothing existed in the world but Robin and herself, and

the feelings flooding them. How could that have happened?

She heard Kellum riding away, two men with him. Waiting with her was Manfield, the Clenden huntsman

and one of Clenden's retainers. Both were looking at her with concern. Both were friends. But even through the concern, she couldn't help see their shock.

Her conduct had been outrageous.

But mayhap she could convince them to take them into the village.

Manfield seemed to read her mind. "Kellum will be telling his version, my lady. You should be there to

tell your father your own."

Lynet's fingers touched Robin's face, then his thick hair. What would be best? All she wanted was to

make him safe. To protect him. It was a strange feeling and one she doubted he would appreciate. There had been such a.s.suredness to him. Confidence. Even an odd grace that seemed to belie what he was.

Would he be better in the village? But there was no physician, certainly none as competent as her own

two hands. Why did he not wake? Or his eyes open? If they took him to the village, he may or may not receive the care he needed. And her father would still find him. "We will take him to Clenden," she said.

It took two men to put him on a horse. She took his lute and mounted her own mare as he was secured to the heavy saddle.

They turned toward Clenden. Her heart pounded as she realized what she would face. And Robin. But nothing mattered if he lived. And her own memories would sustain her. They would have to.

Duncan woke in a dark, damp place. His head seemed to explode. His eyes could barely make out the ridges of the stone walls through a small piece of light filtering in through a window.

As he moved, pain rolled over him like thunder during a storm. He tried to stand but his legs would not hold him. He touched his cheek and felt the stiffness of new bristle and the sticky moisture of seeping blood.

He tried to remember the last hours. Then panic seized him. And fear.

He didn't know where he was.

More importantly, he could not remember how he got here.

Lynet had never seen such disappointment, such grief touch her father's face. Even worse was thebewilderment. How could his daughter do something like this?

Her mother's countenance was, as always, cold. But Lynet saw the glitter of rage there.

"You will go to Holy Cross Convent at Wyckford tomorrow," she said. "You have ruined this family.

You have destroyed your sisters' futures. You may even have sentenced your father to death. He needed the good favor of the Lancasters. Now we have no hope of it."

Lynet ignored her mother. She couldn't remember the last time her mother had touched her or sung a lullaby to her or showed any interest other than disdain. Lynet had always felt she was a threat to her mother's beauty, to her eternal quest for youth. And she knew her mother had wanted sons, not daughters. The three of them represented failure.

"I want to know that he will be tended, then set free with his belongings," she said."He seduced you," her father thundered. "I can have him hanged for poaching, for... touching you.""I am still a virgin, Father. And he did nothing I did not want," Lynet said. "I would tell a court that.""Not if he does not live," her mother said. "No one will blame us if... he dies of his injuries."Lynet knew her father had the power of life and death, and now the anger to use it. She did not recognize the fond, indulgent parent she had loved.

"I will do anything..."

"You can do nothing now, Daughter," her father said. "Kellum and Wickham have left, and no doubt will

spread this tale throughout England. Manfield has not, but he has asked for your sister's hand. Ordinarily

I would refuse until you were wed, but now... I must admire the young man for his offer at this time."

She swallowed hard. She had hurt her sisters' chances at a good marriage. Manfield may have asked for Evelyn's hand.

but would his family countenance it? "Papa, please... take care of him. He did not know who I was, andhe did nothing but ask for my help. He believed I was but a servant and still he was kind. I know I havedisappointed... and dishonored you, but I must be sure that... the stranger is tended and released."

"I cannot promise that," her father said. "He seduced you. He is probably a thief as well."

"He is a musician, and kind," she said. "Please allow me to see him. Then I will do whatever you wish.

And gladly."

He looked at her with sad eyes. "Nay, you will go to Holy Cross tomorrow, and you will stay in your room until you leave." The grief in him was palpable. "Did you not think of your sisters? Your mother?"

She thought she saw a glint of tears in his eyes as he turned away. She was dismissed, and she knew there would be no reprieve. She knew him that well.

She would find a way, though. She had to find a way to see Robin and set him free. Then she could go willingly into a life of prayer.