‘I will bid you good day and leave you to return to your bride.’
Rowenna began to walk away, head high and shoulders set back, leaving Robbie weaker than a day in the melee could have left him and with a mind in turmoil.
He stood rooted to the spot, watching her walk out of his life and realising he had made the biggest mistake possible. She had only reached the corner before he began to run after her.
Chapter Fourteen
Rowenna kept her tears under control by sheer willpower, channelling her sorrow into anger. Robbie was a fool. She was a fool for loving him.
He cared for her. Her spirits soared.
He knew Mary didn’t love him but he was going to marry her anyway. Her spirits plummeted again.
She would marry Geoff or Cecil. It scarcely mattered who.
She scooped up Simon and buried her head in his soft fur, stumbling away from the town house. She could not return home in such a state or questions would be asked.
Before she had reached the end of her street Robbie had caught up with her. He tugged her sleeve.
‘Let me go!’ she snarled. A couple of women walking on the other side of the road stopped and looked over, concern on their faces in case she was being assaulted.
‘S-stop. I have to—I need to—’
Robbie’s forehead creased with the effort of trying to force out his words. He looked more distraught than she had ever seen him and her fury melted away. Her body tingled with the impulse to throw herself into his arms, but that was not her right.
‘I’m all right,’ she called to the women. They shot Robbie an evil look, but carried on walking.
Robbie released her sleeve, still looking uncertain that she would not run. He was out of breath, though he had hardly run any distance and his tangle of curls flopped across his face. Rowenna controlled the urge to reach out and push them back out of his eyes.
‘What now? Haven’t you said enough to wound me? Have you come to lecture me further about whom I should fall in love with? Show me the man you approve of. Tell me who you will allow to love me,’ Rowenna said, her voice rising. Her face grew hot.
‘I do not need your approval, Robbie Danby. Of my behaviour or my position or myself! I’m not the one who promises marriage to one woman while kissing another. To do that, then to have the impudence to pretend you care for me!’
‘You are right,’ Robbie muttered. ‘I have no right to control you or command you. But never believe I don’t care, or that it did not kill me to watch you flit between Cecil and Geoffrey and me at the banquet.’
‘Is that how you see me?’ Rowenna felt as if she had been stabbed through the chest. She leaned against the wall. ‘You think I am so flighty I could be happy with any man who crosses my path?’
‘Am I wrong?’ Robbie was very still and his voice was so quiet she could barely hear it. He lifted his head and gave her a look that reached inside her, stroking her belly and rousing the flames that danced within.
‘I did not flit! I danced with different partners and so did you. Should I accuse you of trifling with the matron you danced with?’
She was so furious her hand trembled as she pointed at him.
‘Show me how can I distinguish between your kisses with Wat Corridge or your fancy for Cecil, and our kiss,’ Robbie said scornfully.
If he only knew what those words did to her, how they sent a tingle through every limb, he would surely not speak so cruelly. She blinked away her tears and dipped her head, fearful that he would see the effect on her written on her face.
‘Do not demand I justify myself to you,’ she snapped. ‘Oh, a man can speak words of love to one woman and marry another without consequence, but for a woman to even spend time with more than one man sees her branded as a harlot. What else can I do? I need a husband, but must wait to be asked and hope a man sees beyond my shameful connections to want me.’
She put Simon down and stepped closer to Robbie, lifting her chin and piercing him with her gaze. He began to speak, but she cut him off abruptly with an angry exhalation.
‘You dare question my character when you are going to marry Mary. You know she doesn’t care for you and you don’t care for her.’
Robbie dropped his hands. He began pacing back and forth, body held rigid. The tendons in his neck were iron hard.
‘I told you, my lord demands it. My situation makes me despair, yet I cannot see my way clear to freeing myself without bringing dishonour on myself or shaming Mary.’
‘So what if Sir John wishes you to marry her? He does not own you body and soul. You will be knighted within a week and your own man. Your father is a baron, not a mere knight, and you will be Lord Danby one day.’
Robbie paled before her eyes. His shoulders tensed and he looked away.
‘I cannot shame Mary when I have led her to believe I would marry her.’
‘You led her to believe no such thing!’ Rowenna cried in exasperation. ‘She knows it, too. Simply tell her you do not wish to marry her.’
‘Roger said the same thing,’ Robbie said. His lip jerked down to one side. ‘I told him that I am honour-bound to marry her unless she releases me.’
‘And of course, you will do anything other than listen to your father,’ Rowenna snapped. ‘An honourable man would tell her the truth. That you don’t love her.’
Robbie tensed. He lifted his head slowly. His eyes bored into Rowenna. ‘That I love you.’
‘Don’t say that!’ Rowenna’s heart seized.
‘I do.’ He held his hands out. Rowenna folded her arms.
‘Really? Yesterday you loved Mary! How do I know you mean it? Who will you throw your heart to tomorrow?’
‘No one but you.’
Wretchedness washed over her. She had longed to hear these words for so long, but not under these circumstances, when it was like a toy dandled to tease a cat, enticing but out of reach for ever. She covered her face with her hands and turned away. Robbie’s hands slid round her and he leaned against her, his broad chest pressing against her back, warm and sturdy.
‘Your love is more changeable than mine, Robbie. At least, I never professed to love the men I kissed. I don’t want to hear such words from you, now or ever.’
Robbie rested his head on her shoulder, his lips close to her ear. The soft whisper of his breath against her neck was a torment.
‘If I had believed then I might one day win your heart, I would never have accepted Mary,’ Robbie said.
Their odd conversation flashed through her mind from the night before and she groaned. Robbie had been trying to discover if she cared and she had been so intent on not revealing her feelings she had even made him believe he was interchangeable with Geoffrey. She remembered his words at the banquet and how he had disliked Cecil paying her attention. At the time she had attributed it to his concern for their family’s name, but now she was uncertain. What point was there in hurting him by admitting her love for him now when it was too late for either of them?
‘But you did,’ she said quietly. Her cheeks were damp and she wiped at them savagely with her sleeve. ‘You were the one who told me to mask my feelings.’
‘I was wrong to say that.’
Robbie stepped forward and in one fluid movement put his hands to her cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. He bent his head to hers, foreheads touching.
‘When I kissed you...’ he murmured, burying his face against her neck.
The scratch of his beard against her skin sent shivers over her. She moaned with desire. It must have triggered something inside Robbie because his arms snaked around her body, pulling her even closer, one reaching up to rest between her shoulder blades, the other around her waist.
‘I meant the words for you, Ro,’ he murmured, his lips close so that the warmth of his breath caressed her cheek. ‘I didn’t realise at the time, but I couldn’t
have spoken so easily if it wasn’t the truth. I was blind not to see it before.’
Her memory flowed back to when they had play-acted in the herb garden. She pressed against his chest, feeling the strength in him. She should reject such intimacy with a man who was betrothed, but his touch weakened her resistance and she could do nothing but yield and try not to explode with the desire she felt. She could have stayed lost in his caress for a lifetime, but almost before they had begun, Robbie’s hands moved from her waist to her arms and he firmly, yet gently, held her at arm’s length. As always, he had more control and wisdom than she did.
‘We mustn’t! I am no longer a free man.’
‘Dependable and sensible. And correct. How I hate you for being so,’ Rowenna said, trying to keep the sorrow from her voice.
Robbie shook his head, dragging the hair back from his cheeks. His face was contorted in a reflection of the misery she felt.
‘Do you hate me?’
Rowenna looked into the eyes of her friend and saw the boy who had stood by her side through childhood in the man who had crossed crowds to rescue her and had kissed her with such fire. Her anger fled, leaving only sadness for them both. If he broke his engagement he would no longer be that man. So, though her heart was breaking, she smiled.
‘No. I never could. You are a good man, Robbie Danby. The very best.’ She touched his cheek, unable to ignore the way his skin tightened beneath her fingers. The tremor ran down her arm and through her until every nerve in her body was alight with longing. ‘I shall say farewell now, because being in your presence can do neither of us any good.’
‘You w-won’t attend m-my d-dubbing ceremony?’ His voice began to break. He looked dismayed and she recalled the promise she had made to be there as his encouragement.
‘I will,’ she agreed. ‘But we should not meet again after that.’
Knowing it would be the last time she could, she stood on tiptoe and left a kiss on his lips, committing the feel and taste of him to memory. She tugged Simon’s leash and walked swiftly away and did not look back again as she returned home. Her own folly had led to this. If she had not been determined to show how little Robbie’s attention affected her, she could have shown him how deeply she truly cared while there was a chance for her. Now it was too late and there was nothing to do about the situation unless Mary decided to break the engagement herself.
She smoothed her hair and steadied her nerve to speak to her parents. She would beg them to let her join Sir John’s household. Given time, she might marry Cecil, whether he loved her or not.
What did it matter who she married when her heart belonged to someone she could not have?
* * *
Four days passed. Robbie did not see Rowenna again. His only contact with Hal’s household was a scribbled note confirming attendance at the ceremony in St Peter’s Church. Rowenna was not mentioned by name and Robbie was uncertain whether she would keep her word and attend.
He practised his vows repeatedly, but was unable to refrain from stumbling over the words. His voice was locked behind his teeth and would not break free, however much he tried. He performed his duties for Sir John with his usual efficiency, but took no joy in them.
Mary clamed much of his free time, inviting him to sit with her as she attended Lady Isobel or walk with him through the city. She gave every outward sign of being devoted to him, but her attentions left Robbie unmoved. He tried to summon the rapture that even the slightest glance had once raised but could not. He listened to her talk of what she would wear in church, of the feast they would share afterwards and of a date they would be able to be wed.
* * *
Finally unable to keep silent, he sought her out on the morning before his ceremony was due to take place. She was sewing alone in the antechamber and gave him a warm smile when he approached.
‘Your final day as a squire, Master Danby.’
‘I must speak. I d-d-do not believe w-we should m-m-m—’ he said.
He watched, noticing how she was unable to hide the irritation that filled her eyes when he stumbled over words. She might not even be trying. She returned to her embroidery as if he had not spoken.
‘I am bound by conscience to tell you I do not love you.’
‘Nor I you,’ she replied, setting down her frame and finally giving him her full attention. ‘That is of no consequence. You are handsome and I know you find me attractive. I believe we will grow fond of each other over time, otherwise I would not have agreed to the marriage.’
She sounded so cold. They might have been discussing the purchase of a horse.
‘We cannot be happy. I love someone else,’ Robbie said. ‘I’m sorry.’
Fury flashed over Mary’s beautiful face and she jabbed the needle through the cloth viciously. Her expression recovered so quickly Robbie half believed he had imagined it.
‘Your clumsy dark-haired cousin? I suspected as much when I saw you together.’ Mary folded her hands. ‘Be sensible, Master Danby. She is the daughter of a bastard. No right-thinking person would willingly enter into an alliance with someone of such low birth.’
Robbie flushed. Rowenna had said the same. If Mary knew the truth about his own birth, she would scorn him as equally as she scorned Rowenna. He stood.
‘Then you should not be so willing to marry me. Release me from our engagement.’
‘There is no need. The connection is not so close as to matter,’ Mary said. She held her hand for Robbie to help her rise. He kissed it dutifully and sat back on the settle, deep in thought after she had left.
A notion started to grow that would not be suppressed, but it filled Robbie with dread. With her spiteful comment about Rowenna, Mary had inadvertently shown him a path to his release. It would come at a great cost and he wondered if he were strong enough to bear it.
He begged an hour’s leave and walked through the city, mind in turmoil, before he finally made his way to Hal’s house. It might have been his mood, but the atmosphere on the streets seemed threatening once more. The riots had been quelled, but for how long?
He could hear Rowenna humming tunelessly to herself through the open door to the storeroom. Robbie’s body jerked towards the sound, but she stopped as Robbie spoke to Hal. He hoped she would come out to greet him, but instead she pulled the door and resumed her song. Conscious of Hal’s eyes narrowing, he dragged his attention away and requested an audience with Roger and Lucy.
‘The workroom is empty,’ Hal said.
Robbie led the way, palms growing damp from nerves.
‘What’s wrong?’ Roger asked. ‘I’ve heard rumours that Gisbourne is massing a mob in the countryside. Lucky we delayed returning home or we’d have run straight into them.’
‘That’s not why I’m here.’ Before his parents could start questioning him he took a deep breath and spoke slowly. ‘I cannot continue my engagement, but Mary will not release me.’
His mother hugged him. He patted her hand. In a few moments she would doubtless be furious with him.
‘You told me to think of a way to make her break from me and I have.’ He looked at Roger. The older man stared back at him, eyes watchful. If the truth had been known all along, the matter would never have arisen.
‘Mary is proud. She would not marry a bastard. I plan to tell her the truth about my birth.’
The reaction was what he had predicted.
‘What do you have to gain by admitting this now?’ Lucy asked.
Roger’s face was thunderous. ‘Are you feeble-minded? Do you expect to be knighted as planned if this deception is revealed?’
‘I understand the consequences.’ Robbie folded his arms, swallowing down the fear.
Hearing the words spoken aloud was chilling. The deeds he had done during the riots should still be enough to see him knighted on his own merit, but the circumstances of his birth might outweigh them. At
the very least there would be questions to answer and even a bastard of noble birth would risk being outcast.
‘I’ll gain my freedom from a match I cannot bear to take part in. If I lose my chance of knighthood, that is the price I must pay.’
‘I would gladly see you end this reckless betrothal, but not at such a cost,’ Lucy said. ‘You’ve wanted this for so long.’
‘There’s something I want more.’ Robbie couldn’t stop himself from glancing upward.
‘Rowenna?’ Roger asked, rolling his eyes and following Robbie’s look. ‘Do you hope to win her?’
Had Rowenna heard them shouting? Robbie had burned for so long to share his burden with her, but would she have him once she knew the truth? Robbie lifted his chin and looked his stepfather in the eye. ‘I have to try.’
‘You are a romantic fool,’ Roger said. There was a touch of humour in his voice and a hint of approval that gave Robbie the strength he needed to defy him.
‘You do not need to reveal the truth,’ Lucy said. ‘We’ll find another way to untangle you.’
The ire that Robbie had bottled for so many years burst free. ‘What way? There is none and I have lived too long under a name I have no right to. It burns me to know the deception I commit every day. Whether or not I am engaged to Mary, I cannot live with this any longer.’
‘I do not permit this. I won’t let you ruin your life,’ Roger said firmly. Robbie rounded on him.
‘Permit? The choice should be mine to make, not yours! I’m done with following your orders.’
‘You don’t need to ruin your future by admitting to this,’ Lucy said.
She rushed to Robbie and took him by the shoulders, trying to pull him to her breast as if he was still a child. Robbie recoiled and she dropped her hands. Her expression was of complete misery.
‘Who is my father?’ he asked. ‘Why won’t you tell me? Was it some tavern boy you took a fancy to?’
A backhanded blow to the face knocked him sideways. He snapped his head up, glaring at Roger whose face was furious.
A Midsummer Knight's Kiss (HQR Historical) Page 21
