Page 49 of An Earl for the Archeress

“M’lord.” A guard approached, giving a respectful dip of the head. It was one of the men who had dragged Mariel to Huntington and shoved her into the prison tower.

“I wanted to inform you that your…eh, the Scottish woman, has just been spotted climbing out her window. It appears she tries to escape. We hesitate to stop her, considering the last time we apprehended…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

“What do you mean, ‘climbing out her window’?” Robert demanded.

“She made a rope out of bed linens and is climbing out her window as we speak.”

“Bloody hell!” Robert exclaimed. “That woman and her death wishes!”

“What should we do?”

Robert abandoned Mariel’s door and ran down the corridor, out across a parapet where he looked down and saw Mariel marching toward his stables. He exhaled relief, seeing she hadn’t broken her legs, and jogged onward, back inside the castle, coming to the spiral stairs that descended down into the main keep where he strode out the doors and into the bailey.

There she was, leading her horse to the front gates.

“Stop!” he called, jogging to her.

She whirled around. The tears in her eyes devastated him. She was thinking the worst, and it was as he and Charlotte had suspected. Her heart was so fragile that she would protect it at any cost.

Dammit, he had to marry her. He knew it now. He needed to win her heart. He could sort this out with King Richard when the prodigal Plantagenet returned from his quest for Jerusalem. And to hell with what Harold Crawford thought. If the arse knew what was best for him, he would see the merit in such a marriage.

“Stay away from me.” She seethed as he came to a halt before her. Except she didn’t yell the words. She hardly spoke them. The ice in her voice, he realized, was her last line of defense.

“You misunderstand me—”

“I do misunderstand!” she erupted. “You claim to want me, then go to her for favors. I’m nay blind, and I’m nay deaf, and I don’t need you like some lovesick courtier vying for a tiny scrap of your attention. I rely on no one and I’m leaving!”

He took her arms. A mistake. She shoved him with such force he stumbled off balance for a couple steps before regaining his footing.

“Stay away from me!” she yelled, more angry tears upon her cheeks, more venom in her words than in any poisonous creature. “Don’t you see I don’t want you?”

The words sliced. One of his guards took her arm. She whirled on him. “What are you going to do to me? Lock me in your prison tower and starve me?” She rounded on Robert again, ripping her arm free. “I want to leave!”

“What should we do with the hellion?” the guardsman asked as he wrestled her arm back into his grip. She fought against him for naught.

Robert’s arms hung limply at his sides. Mayhap she really was sincere when she said she didn’t want him. Maybe he was imagining her desire because he wanted it so badly. He tried not to let her words burn his heart, but he finally lost the battle.

“Let her go,” he muttered after several moments of thought, doing his best to hide the hurt in his voice.

There would be no explaining to her, her misunderstanding. Attempting to do so would be pointless. She was prepared to never hear him. She thought him a liar, a bastard, all the worst things that a woman could think of a man.

“Let her go?” the soldier repeated.

He nodded, his voice quiet. “Let her leave. It’s what she wants. She is free to hunt if needs be. I was foolish to think I could help her otherwise.”

The guards stepped aside at his command, and Robert walked away.

…

That’s it? No one was going to try to detain her? Robert wasn’t going to try to sweet talk his way back into her affections or obstruct her retreat until she finally caved to his begging?

The guards left her where she stood and opened the gate. Robert continued across the yard, up the steps, and back into the keep, not looking back. She felt like crying harder but bit her teeth together to grind onward. He had given her what she wanted. She should be happy.

She mounted up with only her horse, bow, arrows, and daggers, and kicked the animal into motion. No one stopped her, and soon she was heading down to the village and passing through the center where they held their morning markets. She ignored the stares of the peasants and soon found herself nearing the crofters’ cottage she had hidden within.

The sky had darkened now and the woods beckoned, though for the first time, she didn’t want to run. She wanted Robert to love her. She had never cared before if a man had loved her. She had lain with some, found a sweet moment with them here and there, but men were not to be trusted, and therefore she had never once imagined a life with them. She had dressed and left, always moving on, always running away.

Dammit, she should have paid better heed to the signs. His philandering was too glaring to ignore. If she stayed at Huntington, he would only succeed at stamping on her heart until it was nothing but a bloody, wasted pulp. She swallowed and kicked her horse onward. To hell with him.