Kissed by Shadows (23 page)

“You came to me,” he said in barely a whisper. “You came to me, Pippa, and I could only give you what you needed . . . what we both needed.”

She shook her head at him in wordless disgust and pushed herself away from the tree. The recognition of this evil had given her a strength she didn't know she possessed. She brushed past him and with the same steely determination mounted her horse unaided.

“Pippa . . . Pippa . . .” He came up to her, put a hand on her bridle. “There is something else you must hear—”

“Get out of my way!” She slashed at his hand with her whip. “I would not hear another word out of your mouth.” She struck the sorrel's flanks with her whip and the horse leaped forward, crashing down the ride towards the palace.

Lionel watched her go. He was empty, no feeling, no emotion left. He had not told her of Margaret. But now he thought that to use his sister's tragedy as an excuse for his own dreadful violation would be but another violation.

But Pippa
had
to listen to him. He had to save her and her child, and he could not do that without her trust. But how could she ever trust him again?

Eighteen

“Pretty flowers, sir,” Jem observed, regarding his master slyly as he folded shirts and clean linen into the leather traveling bag.

“Aye,” Robin agreed, tying the stems of his carefully selected bouquet with a yellow silk ribbon from his little sister Anna's ribbon box.

“I daresay the lady will be pleased,” Jem observed with the same sly grin.

“Damn your impudence,” Robin said, but without heat.

He surveyed his bouquet with complacency. Lovely late roses, their heads heavy with the night's dew, milky ox-eye daisies, and vivid yellow and orange marigolds. All the very best of the autumn garden at Holborn. Informal, bold, yet graceful and full of sunshine, it was a selection that suited Luisa. Of course, it would be presented to Dona Bernardina, his official hostess of the night before, but Luisa would know she was the intended recipient and the charade would amuse her.

It was still very early, a beautiful crisp autumnal morning. He had had no more than two hours' sleep but he had a lot to accomplish. After his courtesy visit to Luisa and her duenna, designed to enable him to tell Luisa he would be going away for a few days, he would go to Whitehall to talk with Pippa, then return to de Noailles to pick up the ambassador's letters and instructions.

“Meet me at Aldgate at noon,” he instructed Jem. “I want to get to Thame tonight so we must ride hard.” He pulled a wooden comb through his nut-brown curls, grimacing at the way they sprang back into the same unruly tangle just as if they had a life of their own.

“Aye, sir. Should I pack another suit of clothes?”

Robin considered the matter with a thoroughness he would not have accorded it a few weeks ago. “Yes, you had better,” he said.

“We'll be gone a good while then, sir?”

“Not more than a week, but I'll need a change of clothes for visiting. I can't show myself in public with travel-stained garments.”

“No, sir.” Jem nodded solemnly. “Of course not, sir.”

Robin shot him a suspicious glance. “You find something to amuse you, lad?”

Jem shook his head. “No, sir . . . not in the least, sir.”

Robin suppressed a smile and reached for his doublet. “Just make sure you're at Aldgate by noon,” he said with an attempt at severity. He caught up his short cloak and slung it around his shoulders, then armed with his bouquet left the house.

He reached Lionel Ashton's mansion just before eight o'clock and rode around the back into the stable yard to leave his horse. Luisa, attended by a very businesslike-looking groom, was about to mount an elegant, cream-colored mare just as Robin rode into the yard.

A tiny gasp of surprise and pleasure escaped her, to be swiftly swallowed. She stepped away from Malcolm, who had been about to boost her onto her horse. “Why, Lord Robin, what an unexpected visit,” she said in dignified accents. “I was about to go for a ride.”

“Then don't let me hold you up, Dona Luisa,” he said, swinging down from his own horse. “I came merely to thank Dona Bernardina for her hospitality last even.”

“And to give her flowers, I see.” Luisa eyed the bouquet. “What a pretty bunch. Shall I take them for you?”

He bowed with a flourish and handed her the bouquet. She smiled up at him as she smelled the roses. “What a heavenly scent.”

Robin did not say what he had thought, that the fragrance had reminded him of Luisa's own the previous night. He merely bowed again.

“Malcolm, I will ride later,” Luisa said. “I must take Lord Robin to Dona Bernardina.”

“Very well, madam.” Malcolm took the mare's reins just above the bit. His examination of the visitor was automatic, swift, thorough, and covert, and ensured that he would always recognize Robin of Beaucaire at any time and in any guise. It was one of Malcolm's many skills that made him particularly useful to his employer.

“Come, Lord Robin. I don't know if Dona Bernardina has left her chamber as yet. She does not in general come down before midmorning, but I will arrange the flowers and you may give me a pretty message for her.”

“That will do very well,” Robin agreed. “Is your guardian at home?”

“I don't know . . . I don't believe so,” she said with a cheerful little skip. “He usually attends the king at daybreak, when His Majesty reviews the day's business.”

It was the answer Robin had hoped to hear. He was not yet prepared to engage Ashton in further conversation on the subject of scarabs.

It was to be hoped Ashton would visit Pippa early too, Robin reflected. She would not take kindly to being confined the entire morning awaiting her jailer's permission to leave her chamber. But then perhaps she would no more mind that than she seemed to mind the royal edict, he amended acidly. Maybe Lionel Ashton could do no wrong. Pippa had certainly given that impression yesterday.

He returned his attention to Luisa just as they entered the house. She was skillfully engaged in innocuous small talk that required little concentration but would draw no remark.

She addressed the steward who had admitted them. “Senor Diaz, would you send a message to Dona Bernardina's chamber and tell her that Lord Robin is here to pay her a visit? Oh, and bring . . . bring . . .” She turned to Robin. “What do you eat and drink at this time of day in this country?”

“Ale, meat, cheese, bread,” he said. “What do you eat in Spain?”

“Just bread and preserves, and we drink watered wine.”

“Then you should offer me what you would eat yourself.”

Luisa looked a little doubtful and Robin laughed. “As it happens I have already broken my fast,” he told her. “I have no need of refreshment and indeed have only a few minutes to spare.”

“Then I will inform Dona Bernardina immediately.” The steward spoke in thick but fluent English as he executed a stately bow.

“Oh, and send someone with a vase for these flowers,” Luisa called after him as she led Robin into a small parlor at the rear of the house.

“We are alone,” she said in a meaningful whisper. “Not for long, I fear, but let us take advantage of it.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled. “That may be daring in Spain, dear girl, but in England 'tis a very chilly way to greet one's friends.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head on one side. “Demonstrate your way, please.”

He caught her chin on the tip of a finger and swiftly, lightly, kissed her on the mouth. “There, that is considered quite acceptable.”

Luisa's cheeks pinkened. “Not in Spain,” she breathed.

He chuckled and stepped back as the door opened to admit a servant with a pewter vase. “Dona Bernardina, madam, will come down in half an hour.” He set down the vase and left.

“That's very swift,” Luisa marveled. “It normally takes her at least an hour to dress. Either she wishes to do you signal honor, my lord, or she is desperately anxious for my reputation.” She began to arrange the flowers.

“Alas, I cannot wait, so she need have no fears for your reputation,” Robin said. “I came really to tell you that I have to go away for a week, maybe a little longer, so do not look for me at our usual times.”

Luisa continued with her flower arranging. “Where are you going?” The question sounded simply curious.

“Into Surrey,” he said. “To visit some friends.”

“Oh, I see.” Luisa licked a spot of blood from her finger where a thorn had caught it. “What road do you take out of London to go into Surrey?”

“Out of Aldgate,” he told her. “'Tis one of the main gates out of the city.”

“It must be very busy there,” she observed, setting the vase on the table where the morning sun set fire to the orange and yellow of the marigolds.

“Aye, busy enough,” he agreed. “There are several taverns serving wayfarers. Now, I must go. I have to meet my page at noon.”

“At this gate?” She turned from her admiration of the flowers.

“Aye,” he agreed again, his mind now moving ahead. “I'll bring my sister to visit you on my return.”

“As chaperone?” Luisa inquired with a demure smile. “Or as excuse?”

“Either or both,” Robin returned.

“She said she would be happy to play the part of chaperone.”

“Oh, did she?” he said with a dry smile. He could well imagine Pippa making such an offer. She had already dropped some heavy hints about his interest in Luisa.

And she'd also said that Luisa was too young for him.

Was she? Too young for what?

The fact that he could ask himself the question startled him. He wasn't courting this Spanish maid, he was merely enjoying an amusing and slightly flirtatious friendship and giving the girl a taste of freedom and experience at the same time. All perfectly harmless. She would return to Spain and he wouldn't give her a second thought.

“I must take my leave at once,” he said abruptly. “I have much to do this morning. Pray give my respects to Dona Bernardina and ask her to forgive my haste. I will call upon her again on my return.”

Luisa's smile was slightly distracted as she curtsied her farewell, but Robin didn't notice anything amiss. He bowed and left the house, hurrying to the stables for his horse.

Luisa went to her own chamber. She sat on the chest at the end of the bed and considered the fantastic idea that had jumped into her head. It was fantastic, impossible, lunatic. But it wasn't impossible. Not really impossible. If she had the courage, she could do it.

But what would happen afterwards? Her reputation would be destroyed. It would kill her mother, not to mention Dona Bernardina. Or . . .

Or, she could find herself a husband. A husband of her own choosing. Or . . .

Or she could just see if she could put such a lunatic idea into practice and then if she succeeded she could back away and return home with no one any the wiser.

Yes, that was what she would do. Luisa hopped off the chest. She should take a few things with her just in case. . . .

No, there was no just in case. She was going to have a tiny little adventure that would hurt no one. She would not take anything with her, and that way there would be no temptation to push her little adventure into a big one with hideous consequences for a lot more people than herself. This was just a test of her ingenuity.

Don Ashton would hear of it, of course, because Malcolm would have to tell him. And he would probably send her straight home on the next ship to Spain.

But maybe he wouldn't. He was not unreasonable, just unaware. As long as Bernardina didn't find out, there would be no need for Don Ashton to do anything.

Too young for what?
The question would not leave his mind. It became an internal chant, taunting Robin as he rode back to Whitehall. He had never given Luisa's age a second thought. He had never given the girl herself a serious thought. This was just an interlude that amused them both.

But he was a man of thirty summers and she was a woman of eighteen. No great discrepancy there. A lot smaller than in many marriages. Women married men old enough to be their grandfathers in some cases. Of course, the women's wishes were not in general consulted in such cases. Luisa had refused just such a marriage arranged for her.

But why in the name of Lucifer was he thinking about marriage? Whenever he thought, which wasn't often, about the kind of woman who would suit him, he could think only of Pen, Pippa, and Guinevere, his stepmother. They all had certain qualities that he could not imagine doing without in a wife. They were equal partners in their marriages, heretical though that was. They managed their own affairs, equally heretical, and they were entertaining and clever and no man's fool.

Robin realized rather glumly as he stabled his horse that he hadn't met any women like the women of his own family, which presumably accounted for his lack of interest in marriage. He had never considered it. But now it seemed as if he was.

Luisa.

No, it could never work. He would never get her family's permission even if he asked for it. Presumably Lionel Ashton was in loco parentis so he would have to be asked. And that was a snake pit if ever he'd come across one.

Who and what was Lionel Ashton? If he was on the right side, a true sympathizer, then maybe he would not be averse to such a proposal. But if he was the devil's own Spanish spy, then he would see Robin hang, or lying in a gutter with his throat cut, before he'd countenance such a proposal. And if indeed that was what Ashton was, then Robin could have nothing to do with anyone or anything that came under his influence, however drawn he was to Luisa.

“Everythin' all right, my lord?”

Robin became aware that he was standing in the middle of the busy yard, swinging his whip against his booted calf, and staring at nothing. The groom who had taken his horse was regarding him curiously.

“Yes . . . yes . . .” Robin said irritably. “I'll need my horse again in half an hour.” He strode out of the yard, beneath the arched gateway that led into one of the inner courts of the palace.

He pushed aside all thoughts of Luisa and the extraordinary path down which those thoughts had propelled him, and concentrated on what he would say to Pippa.

He decided that he needed to be honest with her, tell her of Lionel's approach. She would then tell him whatever she knew or suspected or guessed. If he avoided any hints about her strange and to him dangerous intimacy with Ashton, then they could keep the discussion on a matter-of-fact footing.