Lion Heart Page 43


“You taught me some things,” I said, lowering my voice. He raised his eyebrows and leaned closer to me. I pushed him back with a grin. “And none of them have anything to do with weaponry.”

My eyes dropped to his mouth, and lingered there for a long breath.

He sighed and stood. “Scarlet, we should—I should—” He stopped, and he shook his head.

I stood as well. “Rob, I shouldn’t have walked off this afternoon.”

He looked at me, waiting for me to speak.

I lifted my shoulders. “I know you were trying to say something reasonable, but all I heard—” I stopped, looking down, and he stepped closer to me. “All I heard was that you don’t want to marry me anymore.”

He looked at me, meeting my eyes in that way that made me feel strange things sparking like kindling inside of me. He glanced away, looking round the hall. “Come,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’d rather not speak about this here, but there is much to say.”

My chest felt tight as I looked at his hand.

“And none of it has to do with me not wanting to marry you, Scar,” he told me, his voice a low, private rumble. “Come to my chambers, and we can discuss it all.”

I nodded, putting my hand in his.

He held my bandaged hand and brought me up through the castle. When I thought we’d continue up the stairs, he started tugging me down the hall. “You don’t stay in the lord’s chambers?” I asked. They were the nicest rooms, where Prince John stayed when he were here.

He shrugged. “No. I couldn’t much stand the thought of him, and besides . . . ,” he said, trailing off as he tugged me down the hall. As we grew closer to the room and he smiled broader, I felt the blood running out of my face. “I wanted to stay in the only room that reminded me of you. With your things in it, no less, so I could pretend like any day you’d appear again.”

He loosed my hand to open the door, and my heart were pounding at the thought of going into that room, like it could bring Gisbourne back to life, like he would be there, putting his hands on me again.

Rob turned back to me and frowned, taking my hand. “Scar, we don’t—”

I pulled away, so hard when he let me go I hit the wall and jerked with pain as my back hit rock. I shrank from him.

“Scarlet!” he said, frowning and confused.

I could bare breathe, and Rob came to me, standing before me, hesitant to touch me.

Like he thought it were him I didn’t want to be touched by, like he couldn’t see Gisbourne’s ghostly hands reaching out for me, grasping at me.

“Locksley!” Winchester shouted down the hall. “Have you—Marian! Come quick, Bess is asking for you.”

I pulled round Rob. “Bess?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

He grinned. “She’s having the baby.”

My eyes went wide. “What am I meant to do?” I demanded, panicked.

He chuckled. “I think she wants a friend there, Marian.”

With little idea what I were doing, I went. Maybe to run from telling Rob so many truths, and maybe because even if I weren’t sure I were yet, I wanted to be Bess’s friend. I wanted to protect that baby from the moment it were alive in the world.

I rushed back to the room I’d left her in. Much were outside, his arms crossed, looking fair tortured and grim. “God, Scarlet . . . ,” he started, shaking his head.

Jumping forward, I kissed his cheek. “I’ll take care of her,” I told him. It were a silly promise to make—I didn’t know the first thing about women and babies and care. But I promised it to him because he needed to hear something from his friend.

I heard her yell, and Much flinched. I opened the door and went in. Women were in there already, four of them, piling linens and getting water and doing it all without a word.

“Scarlet!” she wailed, and I froze, terrified.

She held her hand out to me from the bed where they’d moved her around, and said my name again. I lurched forward, crawling on the bed to sit beside her. She grabbed my wrist and I grabbed hers, bound together, strong and linked.

“It hurts,” she sobbed against me. “No one says it hurts this much.”

“No,” one of the women told her, patting her knee. “They all forget once they have the babe. It’s a quick mess of pain for a lifelong joy, my girl.” She smiled. “Besides, the pains will get much, much worse. We’re still early on.”

The worst of the pain passed, and Bess curled against my chest, crying free. “Damn him,” she whispered. “Damn him for leaving me like this. Leaving me alone to do this.”

I squeezed her wrist harder. “You’re not alone. You have a whole family outside that door. And in,” I added, looking at our hands. “He left you with a whole damn family.”

She kept on crying, but she nodded, and I reckoned that were good enough.

“You’ve got a long while to go, Bess,” the woman near her knees told her. I reckoned she were the midwife. “Rest if you can between the pains. And you—” she said, nodding to me. “Don’t let go of her hand. When she needs to squeeze, she needs to squeeze hard.”

I nodded, like this were a solemn duty. It were, to me.

The midwife passed me cloths soaked in cool water, and I patted them on her neck, her forehead, cooling the sweat. She relaxed a little, tangled against me. “Hush,” I said to her. “Rest. I’m not leaving you.”

Prev Next