A Midsummer Knight's Kiss (HQR Historical)

by Elisabeth Hobbes

  ‘You will not speak to my wife in such a way if you want to ever set foot in my house again,’ he growled.

  ‘Why w-would I w-want to stay in a house full of deceptions?’ Robbie yelled.

  The two men squared their shoulders. Robbie’s fists clenched and he snarled. Roger’s eyes became slits.

  ‘Is this what you want to do, lad?’ Roger growled.

  Roger was broader, but older. Robbie wasn’t certain he could best the man opposite him, even with youth on his side, but he jerked forward, determined that if he was to receive a beating he would go down fighting to the last. Lucy stepped between them, thrusting her hands against each man’s chest.

  ‘No! I will not have fighting between the two men I love most dearly.’

  Her voice was sharp and reached into the part of Robbie’s brain that had obeyed her since childhood. He dropped his fists and head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Roger had done likewise. There was grey in his stepfather’s black curls. Curls that were so like Robbie’s own that they could have been kin. No wonder the deception had been so easy to carry out.

  ‘If you won’t think of yourself, think of your mother’s shame,’ Roger growled. ‘Her reputation is at stake.’

  Her reputation. Robbie drew a sharp breath. He had assumed Roger was concerned with his own reputation and not considered the effect the revelation would have on his mother.

  Lucy shot her husband an angry look. ‘I put my shame in the grave long ago and you know it.’

  She put her hands on Robbie’s shoulders. ‘Your father was a man of noble birth, greater and wealthier than the Danbys, but he refused to acknowledge you. If I hadn’t met Roger you’d have grown up in Tom’s inn outside Mattonfield, scorned and poor. Is that what you want? The risk is too great.’

  ‘Compared to the certainty of saying nothing? I know well how much my fortunes are at the whim of fate. What if Anne and Lisbet had been boys?’ he asked. ‘What if you’d birthed a son on the day I left instead of Joan? I’d have been disinherited while your legitimate son followed you as baron? What would you have done with me? Sent me to serve with Uncle Tom at the inn back in Cheshire or apprenticed me to Uncle Hal to learn a trade? Or should I have become my brother’s squire and served him?’

  ‘None of those things,’ Lucy cried. Her eyes filled with tears that made Robbie’s conscience cry out in anguish. ‘We would have made a settlement for you. You are a Danby, and once you become a knight you will earn honour and titles of your own.’

  ‘Then I shall do so under my own name, whatever that may be.’

  ‘You could lose everything,’ Roger warned. ‘Think carefully about the consequences.’

  Robbie ran his hands through his hair. The sacrifice of wealth and rank, of Sir John’s patronage and of the name he had made were nothing compared to a life with Mary and without Rowenna.

  ‘I will live with whatever the consequences are. If you do not forgive me, I shall bear that, too.’

  He made a curt bow and left, but had taken no more than a dozen steps when Rowenna called his name from the upstairs window. He winced, closing his eyes and intending to carry on, but he could not deny her call any more than he could stop the sun circling the earth.

  ‘I heard shouting. Robbie—what’s wrong?’ She was leaning out of the open window, shutter thrown wide. Her face was contorted with worry.

  He lifted a hand up, as if hoping to touch her from where he stood, and she stretched down.

  ‘Wait for me. I’ll come down.’

  The gulf between them was wider than worlds and filled with the secrets he’d kept. He longed to spill the truth out, but curbed his tongue. She would know soon enough and he had to hope she would not turn from him. Even if he had wanted to speak, the words filled his throat, threatening to choke him. If she came to him, he would not be able to resist embracing her or stealing one last kiss before he left.

  ‘Don’t. I have to go.’

  Her eyes hardened with determination and her head vanished. The day was growing late and he had to prepare for his vigil, but he waited, knowing she would ignore his orders and appear. As he had predicted, the door opened and she slipped out.

  ‘Why are you angry at Roger?’ she demanded as she strode towards him. ‘You were so close when you lived in Wharram as a child. What changed when you left?’

  ‘Would you turn against me if you knew?’ Robbie murmured, more to himself than Rowenna. His belly rolled with anxiety. Their friendship already seemed broken beyond repair.

  ‘I would never turn against you! You can tell me anything and I would stand by your side.’

  He took her hand and brought it briefly to his lips before lowering it. He could not ignore the way her skin fluttered at his kiss. If he were not bound by his engagement, he would have taken her in his arms and kissed her with the full force of all the pent-up longing that coursed through him, until she had no doubt how much he felt for her.

  ‘I would not keep anything from you, my dear friend, if it were my choice, but there are promises I have sworn and there are some matters that cannot be shared, however much I wish I could.’ His smile was sad. ‘You will not resent me if I keep my word, will you? For the time being, at least.’

  ‘Of course not!’ Rowenna said. Her face contorted into a mask of misery. ‘If you have given your word, I would not expect you to break it on my account, however strong our friendship was.’

  Bile filled Robbie’s stomach. Was, not is.

  ‘The greatest tragedy is that I have lost my friend,’ he said.

  To his dismay, she burst into tears. Angry, gulping sobs racked her frame.

  ‘Forgive me,’ Robbie said. He tried to take her in his arms, but she wriggled free, glaring at him.

  ‘Leave me alone. I hate that I cry so easily. I hate that you think it’s anything you’ve done. That you think there is anything you can do to make me weep.’ She wiped her eyes and swallowed. ‘There’s something you should know. My father has agreed I may speak to Lady Isobel. After your ceremony tomorrow I shall ask to become part of her household.’

  ‘Don’t do that,’ Robbie said. Visions racked him of watching her grow close to Cecil and being hurt or ruined by his sweet words.

  ‘Why not?’ she asked, wiping away the tears. ‘There is nothing for me here or at home.’

  ‘Cecil will break your heart.’

  ‘You assume it is intact!’ Rowenna raised her voice, pain cracking it.

  Robbie set his shoulders and turned away without answering. He returned to the inn and gathered what he needed before saying farewell to Sir John and his friends for what could be the last time. If he revealed the truth, he could no longer expect their friendship. He unlocked the small chest he kept beneath his bed and took out his money pouch and his eye fell on Rowenna’s ribbon.

  He made his preparations in a trance, bathing and dressing in his white vesture and red robe. No one would suspect that beneath his clothing and tied around his arm was a faded and bloodstained piece of ribbon. He knelt before the altar, hands clasped in silent prayer, but could not force his mind where it should be. He should be contemplating his future role with all the solemnity it demanded, but he could think of nothing beyond the turmoil in his heart and the decision he had to make. As he had jokingly predicted, he spent the night contemplating the loss of Rowenna and dreaming of a future together. How could he profess to purity when such profane thoughts ran through his mind?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ten hours of stillness and fasting had left Robbie aching and weary. He would argue that any man who could endure such a feat uncomplaining deserved his adoubement, but Robbie felt no such right for himself. He had spent the night kneeling before the altar, but had seen no holy visions, nor felt the touch of the divine that a man worthy of knighthood would surely experience. He felt light-headed and sick, but knew in his heart that th
e cause was a lack of food and sleep.

  As the congregation filed in for Mass, he searched for faces he knew and loved. His mother and Roger were sitting together with the girls. Roger was whispering to Joan to keep still. Hal and Joanna sat with the other guildsmen. Robbie’s nerve strengthened at the sight of his uncle dressed in gold chains and velvet. If one bastard could rise high through effort and skill, why not another? After the ceremony he would be a knight, and before too long he would have a wife and the secured patronage of Sir John. A wife.

  A wife he did not want. Even without the chance of Rowenna’s love, he could not bear to spend his life with Mary.

  Moving on, he spotted Sir John’s retinue. Mary was sitting beside Lady Isobel, a serene smile on her face. Robbie felt none of the fire of adoration he once had, only a cold lump where his heart should be. Cecil was sitting a few seats along from Mary and beside him sat Rowenna. Their heads were bowed together and Cecil was whispering something in her ear that caused her to grin. As the lump in Robbie’s heart exploded, she looked up and met his eye. Her smile became fixed and solemn as she held his gaze and Robbie’s stomach plunged. He felt certain he had lost her friendship for ever. Then she gave him a slight smile that was lacking her customary merriness and mouthed something to him that might have been ‘good luck’. Robbie dipped his head in acknowledgement, but try as he might, he could not force himself to return her smile when she was sitting so close to Cecil.

  He faced the altar and sleepwalked through Mass until the lengthy service ended. Sir John, acting as Robbie’s sponsor, joined him at the altar. He gave Robbie a solemn look, which Robbie returned. His master could not suspect the upheaval Robbie was about to unleash.

  He spoke his vows clearly, with less hesitation than he had feared, his eyes fixed on Rowenna. Imagine you are talking to me alone, she had said. Her smile was a beacon in the crowd.

  The time had come for his dubbing and he had made his decision. As Sir John took possession of the sword and shield, Robbie faced the congregation and prepared to destroy his future.

  ‘Robert Danby, kneel.’

  Robbie remained standing. He held his head high and spoke.

  ‘I cannot claim this honour. I stand before you with no right to the name I bear.’

  A ripple of astonishment passed through the church. Roger had leapt from his seat and was glaring at Robbie. Lucy shook her head. Robbie dared not look at Rowenna or Mary.

  Sir John’s face was white and he looked baffled. ‘Is this an ill-thought-out jest?’

  ‘I am afraid not, my lord. I do not know what name I can lay claim to, but I am not the son of Roger Danby and I cannot be knighted under this name.’

  Uproar followed. The ripple became a rumble of voices echoing to the arched ceiling. Voices called out for Robbie’s arrest for so grave a deception, others in his defence. A cloak of serenity seemed to fall over his shoulders, replacing the heaviness that he had carried for so long. He walked away from the altar. Roger blocked his way.

  ‘You’ve made your choice, now you’ll have to live with the consequences. I hope you think it was worth it.’

  Robbie returned his gaze, unblinking. ‘So do I.’

  Roger held a hand out. After a moment of hesitation, Robbie shook it. Rowenna was standing at the end of a row of pews. As Robbie approached her, Cecil stalked towards him, but Robbie held a hand out and he fell back. Tears fell freely from Rowenna’s eyes. She dragged a hand violently across her eyes to clear them and glared.

  ‘Have you lost your mind?’

  Behind the tears there was cold fury. Before Robbie could find his voice she bolted, running from the church with her head down. Robbie could have withstood anything else, but the rejection he had feared came close to unmanning him.

  He walked slowly through the nave and stopped before Mary. She eyed him coldly and he wondered why he had ever thought her beautiful.

  ‘Forgive me. I should have told you before.’

  She raised her hand and delivered a ringing slap to his cheek.

  ‘You vile, deceiving—’

  She curled her lip with a cry of disgust and threw herself into Amy’s arms.

  Robbie walked on, relishing the pain in his jaw. It signified freedom.

  Rowenna was not in the square outside the church when he emerged into the harsh sunlight and he had to trust that she had made her way home safely.

  ‘Rob. Wait, Danby.’

  Robbie stopped at the sound of Cecil’s voice.

  ‘Didn’t you hear me? Not Danby,’ he growled. ‘Did you see where Rowenna went?’

  ‘Home, surely. Was that true? You kept a secret like that?’ Cecil shook his head incredulously. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘Why?’ Robbie asked suspiciously. There had been enough competitiveness between the two men over the years.

  Cecil laughed, but there was kindness in his eyes. ‘Because I’ve never witnessed a man throw his entire world away in such dramatic a fashion. Besides, once you are gone, I can try taking your place. I’ll be Sir John’s favoured squire. I might even try for Mary’s hand.’

  Robbie looked him in the eye. ‘You are welcome to.’

  Cecil looked dumbfounded. ‘What are you going to do now?’

  Robbie straightened up. He could not return to the inn and, though he wished more than anything to see Rowenna, could not face the angry response he would doubtless receive at Hal’s house. It would be best to wait until the following day to beg an audience with his relatives.

  ‘I plan firstly to get drunk. After that I’ll consider my future.’

  ‘You don’t get drunk,’ Cecil said.

  ‘I intend to today.’ He put a hand on Cecil’s shoulder. ‘There’s a tavern near the Bootham Gate. Will you bring my belongings from the inn? I’ll be there at dusk.’

  ‘Willingly,’ Cecil said.

  He walked into the city, not caring where his feet took him.

  There were signs that the anger that had been simmering under the surface was about to boil over. Shopfronts were being shuttered and already men were squaring their shoulders as they passed watchmen.

  When he tired of walking and being jostled, Robbie found the tavern and bought a bottle of wine. He stared at it as he waited for Cecil to arrive, wondering what future there might be for a nameless, masterless squire. He was clearly free of Mary, but he feared that he had lost Rowenna, too.

  * * *

  A dozen emotions rolled inside Rowenna’s belly as she ran for home. Guilt was foremost. Robbie’s revelation had hit her like a hammer on an anvil, and instead of offering her support she had run from him. She was the first to arrive and flung herself on to her bed, burying her face in the coverlet and sobbing. He had deceived her and the cold rage that had flooded her veins turned her limbs to water, but he was still the same Robbie she had loved for as long as she could remember.

  Presently, the door slammed. Rowenna bolted downstairs. The four older Danbys had entered together, Joanna with her arm around a red-eyed Lucy.

  ‘Where’s Robbie?’ Rowenna demanded.

  Roger threw his arms wide. ‘You expect us to know? The reckless fool ran off after you and hasn’t been seen since.’

  ‘Is it true?’ she asked.

  Their looks confirmed her question.

  ‘How could you hide that from me? How could Robbie? Why would he reveal it at such an important moment?’

  ‘You don’t know?’ her mother asked.

  Rowenna shook her head. Roger unbuckled his cloak and hung it on the peg. He looked older and weary.

  ‘Aren’t you going out to search for him?’ Rowenna exclaimed.

  ‘Not today,’ Roger said. ‘I’ve spent all afternoon speaking with Sir John and trying to explain what I did.’

  His face was pale and all his vitality seemed to have left him. Rowenna could scarcely believe
they weren’t father and son. If Robbie could see the love and pain in Roger’s eyes, he would never have rejected the family who loved him so greatly.

  ‘Robbie needs to decide what he wants to do. We’ll be here when he wants to see us.’ Lucy added. ‘This has been a long time building.’

  ‘Does he know that?’

  Lucy’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘He will not welcome my interference today,’ Roger said, holding her tightly.

  Rowenna froze. What if Robbie did not come? What if he did not want to see them? Did not want to see her? She folded her arms, glaring at them all.

  ‘If you won’t search for him, I will.’

  Dodging her mother’s attempts to seize her by the arm, Rowenna ducked past the adults and through the open door. She ran, ducking down an alley, and waited with a thumping heart in case they came after her. Hiding gave her time to clear her head. She had burst out of the house with no cloak, no money and no idea where to begin searching for Robbie. The city was huge and sprawling, but she had to begin somewhere. She passed the garden where they had sat together and headed back towards St Peter’s Church.

  Things were very wrong. In the distance she could hear angry shouting coming from outside the walls. Members of the city watch were moving swiftly towards the city gates at Bootham Bar and, to Rowenna’s alarm, there were gangs of roughly dressed men roaming the streets. She bunched her fists and realised her hands were clammy with nerves. She pressed herself against a wall as a pair of men holding staves ran past and began to think sensibly. She would never find Robbie by chance while walking about the city, so decided instead to go to the inn where Sir John was staying. Halfway there she encountered Cecil walking in the opposite direction.

  She gave him no time to speak, but asked if he knew where Robbie was. In answer he held up a bulging leather bag and a case for a bow.

  ‘I know where he will be soon. There’s a tavern. I said I would take his belongings.’

  ‘Can I come with you?’ she asked.

  Cecil grinned. ‘If you prefer, you could deliver them. I don’t want to spend the evening acting as a courier while there is fighting to be done.’