“But he received your petition for it?” Rob asked.
Thoresby sighed. “The messenger assured me he received it. Robin, I warned you not to rest too much hope on this. It’s a very political appointment, and he has nothing to gain from appointing me.”
“Nonsense,” Rob said, waving this off. “You’re well thought of at court.”
“If I’m ever there,” he said. “It’s unlikely at best, Robin.”
“He’ll appoint you. Who else could he choose?”
“There are still unclaimed lands,” he said. “Most of your old Huntingdon properties are still unentailed. He could easily bring someone into the county to make them eligible. And many minor landholders are eligible. There are a surprising number of possibilities.”
Muscle in Rob’s jaw flickered and bulged out. “Then gain his notice. Persuade him. Do something, Thoresby,” Rob snapped.
“I know how much you want me to be sheriff, but you must prepare yourself—” he said, clapping his hand on Rob’s shoulder.
Rob pushed it off. “No. No. What I must prepare myself for is defending the people again, because clearly I’m the only one willing to stand up for them.”
Thoresby heaved a great sigh and looked round at the barn. “Things seem to be going well here, Robin. It was a good idea.”
“It was Scar’s idea,” he said, flat. “Good thing they’re learning to protect themselves—those children are growing up in a world where not one of the people who are duty-bound to honor and shelter them care for their well-being. Or don’t you remember what they have suffered under the last sheriff? They were taxed and tortured within an inch of their lives, Thoresby. Have you forgotten?”
Thoresby looked at me. I shook my head and opened my mouth to defend Thoresby, say something to allow for Rob’s short words and shorter temper, but Thoresby’s eyes went to my neck.
My hand ran quick to it, covering up where I thought I had done. “It’s not—” I started, but Thoresby shook his head.
“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation.” He looked to Rob. “We all want to see these people safe and protected, Robin. And evidently, we all fail in our own ways.” He sighed again, tucking his hands round back behind him. “Use the barn as long as you like.”
Thoresby left, and the children laughed at something John said.
Rob turned and slammed his foot against the nearest stall door. It wrenched with an awful noise, and the whole thing shattered, throwing chunks to the ground and leaving rough pieces hanging on the hinge. Thank God there weren’t no horse in there, or Rob would have been kicked something awful.
The children stopped laughing.
“Go on home,” Much said to them. “We’ll be back again, when you see the ribbon at the well. Be careful.”
John started herding them out, and I crossed my arms. Rob snapped another bit of wood, color moving ’cross his face, wild and harsh. He bent down to grab another piece, and I cursed at him, rushing forward.
I hit the wood from his hands and pushed him, pressing him up against the wall, my hands on his shoulders. It weren’t a fierce grip, not like John might, but it were enough to stop him. “What are you doing?” I snapped.
He pushed up, using my grip against me and moving me back with his shoulders in my hands, powerful and strong but gentle. My back nudged the other wall and he pressed closer, leaning against me. His breath were rough and hot and puffed over my cheek, my ear, my neck.
My hands curled slow around him, drawing him close to me, tight against me. “What are you doing, Rob?” I whispered.
He tucked his face into my shoulder and drew long, shuddering breaths. “We’re not going to make it through this, Scar. Not another sheriff. Not another nightmare.” His voice dropped, and if it weren’t for the way the words slipped along my skin, I would have doubted he spoke them. “I’m not going to make it through this again.”
I sighed against him, trying to think of the right thing to say. “Someone tried to hurt Missy,” I told him soft. He went tense, but I twisted my fingers through his hair to keep him still and silent. “She fought him off. She saved herself.” He looked at me, a tendril of hope like a deep current in his eyes. “We will make it through this, because you aren’t alone. I’m with you, the lads are with you, and now the town is with you. If Missy Morgan can fight a man, we will make it through this.”
“What happened to Missy?” John asked, scowling into the horse stall where Rob and I were twined up against each other like ivy run wild.
“Nothing, and that’s the point,” I told him, pulling from Rob gentle.
Rob caught my hand and held it, tipping it up and pressing a kiss into the palm. He ran his thumb over the big vein there on my wrist, and it rippled through me like a shock.
“I’m going to go to the castle,” I told them. “Thoresby said the prince is coming.”
“I’ll go with you,” John said.
“No, I’ll be well enough. Place is bare guarded now.”
“Save for the knights,” Much said.
I shrugged. “They’re lazy.”
John stared hard at me, even as Rob nodded. “You’ll be all right. Go on so you’re back before nightfall.”
I broke John’s gaze at that.
“Bring us news of the men,” Much said.
Nodding, I said, “You lot headed back to the monastery?”
Thoresby sighed. “The messenger assured me he received it. Robin, I warned you not to rest too much hope on this. It’s a very political appointment, and he has nothing to gain from appointing me.”
“Nonsense,” Rob said, waving this off. “You’re well thought of at court.”
“If I’m ever there,” he said. “It’s unlikely at best, Robin.”
“He’ll appoint you. Who else could he choose?”
“There are still unclaimed lands,” he said. “Most of your old Huntingdon properties are still unentailed. He could easily bring someone into the county to make them eligible. And many minor landholders are eligible. There are a surprising number of possibilities.”
Muscle in Rob’s jaw flickered and bulged out. “Then gain his notice. Persuade him. Do something, Thoresby,” Rob snapped.
“I know how much you want me to be sheriff, but you must prepare yourself—” he said, clapping his hand on Rob’s shoulder.
Rob pushed it off. “No. No. What I must prepare myself for is defending the people again, because clearly I’m the only one willing to stand up for them.”
Thoresby heaved a great sigh and looked round at the barn. “Things seem to be going well here, Robin. It was a good idea.”
“It was Scar’s idea,” he said, flat. “Good thing they’re learning to protect themselves—those children are growing up in a world where not one of the people who are duty-bound to honor and shelter them care for their well-being. Or don’t you remember what they have suffered under the last sheriff? They were taxed and tortured within an inch of their lives, Thoresby. Have you forgotten?”
Thoresby looked at me. I shook my head and opened my mouth to defend Thoresby, say something to allow for Rob’s short words and shorter temper, but Thoresby’s eyes went to my neck.
My hand ran quick to it, covering up where I thought I had done. “It’s not—” I started, but Thoresby shook his head.
“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation.” He looked to Rob. “We all want to see these people safe and protected, Robin. And evidently, we all fail in our own ways.” He sighed again, tucking his hands round back behind him. “Use the barn as long as you like.”
Thoresby left, and the children laughed at something John said.
Rob turned and slammed his foot against the nearest stall door. It wrenched with an awful noise, and the whole thing shattered, throwing chunks to the ground and leaving rough pieces hanging on the hinge. Thank God there weren’t no horse in there, or Rob would have been kicked something awful.
The children stopped laughing.
“Go on home,” Much said to them. “We’ll be back again, when you see the ribbon at the well. Be careful.”
John started herding them out, and I crossed my arms. Rob snapped another bit of wood, color moving ’cross his face, wild and harsh. He bent down to grab another piece, and I cursed at him, rushing forward.
I hit the wood from his hands and pushed him, pressing him up against the wall, my hands on his shoulders. It weren’t a fierce grip, not like John might, but it were enough to stop him. “What are you doing?” I snapped.
He pushed up, using my grip against me and moving me back with his shoulders in my hands, powerful and strong but gentle. My back nudged the other wall and he pressed closer, leaning against me. His breath were rough and hot and puffed over my cheek, my ear, my neck.
My hands curled slow around him, drawing him close to me, tight against me. “What are you doing, Rob?” I whispered.
He tucked his face into my shoulder and drew long, shuddering breaths. “We’re not going to make it through this, Scar. Not another sheriff. Not another nightmare.” His voice dropped, and if it weren’t for the way the words slipped along my skin, I would have doubted he spoke them. “I’m not going to make it through this again.”
I sighed against him, trying to think of the right thing to say. “Someone tried to hurt Missy,” I told him soft. He went tense, but I twisted my fingers through his hair to keep him still and silent. “She fought him off. She saved herself.” He looked at me, a tendril of hope like a deep current in his eyes. “We will make it through this, because you aren’t alone. I’m with you, the lads are with you, and now the town is with you. If Missy Morgan can fight a man, we will make it through this.”
“What happened to Missy?” John asked, scowling into the horse stall where Rob and I were twined up against each other like ivy run wild.
“Nothing, and that’s the point,” I told him, pulling from Rob gentle.
Rob caught my hand and held it, tipping it up and pressing a kiss into the palm. He ran his thumb over the big vein there on my wrist, and it rippled through me like a shock.
“I’m going to go to the castle,” I told them. “Thoresby said the prince is coming.”
“I’ll go with you,” John said.
“No, I’ll be well enough. Place is bare guarded now.”
“Save for the knights,” Much said.
I shrugged. “They’re lazy.”
John stared hard at me, even as Rob nodded. “You’ll be all right. Go on so you’re back before nightfall.”
I broke John’s gaze at that.
“Bring us news of the men,” Much said.
Nodding, I said, “You lot headed back to the monastery?”
