Page 57 of An Earl for the Archeress

“Marry me,” he whispered, his fingers continuing the caress even though no more hair needed brushing back.

Her face snapped up and she scrutinized him, trying to determine if he was teasing. But his embarrassed smile at being caught by his men with his hands down her trousers had died away, replaced with a wistful gaze as he studied each tendril he touched with increasing interest.

“I thought you did not want marriage,” she finally replied. The safest answer, for if he was jesting, she called him out on it, and if he was serious, then she voiced a legitimate concern.

He looked into her eyes. “Marry me, and let my claim on you protect you from your father. He’ll be relentless in his pursuit of you now that he’s seen you…now that you’ve shot him.”

She scoffed. “Marriage will not protect me. He’ll only make me a widow at the first opportunity to solve the issue of my property rights.”

“Not if I or my men have a say in it. And Nottingham won’t let him kill me, either. I’m too important to the king. But your father’s a smart man. I believe, over time, he would come to see the merit in such a union betwixt us—”

“Not to mention, he and Nottingham will draw the easy inference that you’re the likely suspect in all these thieving raids,” she continued speaking, as if he had not said a word. “And when your Nottingham learns that you are, in fact, the mastermind of the forest thieves, he’ll strip every ounce of wealth, land, and title from your back and cast you out along with your band of elusive but merry men. That is, if you’re lucky enough to not be thrown in his oubliette for the rest of time.”

He chuckled and settled both his palms over her cheeks. “Will you quit being so keen?” She conceded a smile at his backhanded compliment. “There’s always a chance that your observations will come to pass, love, and believe me, I’ve been considering all my odds, but at least I would die knowing that in the afterlife, my wife would join my side once more. And they won’t come to pass. Like I said, Nottingham knows Richard would never overlook my death. It’s a risk I don’t think he’s willing to take. He’ll stay your father’s murderous hands.”

She chewed her lip, gauging his relative calm. Was he actually confident that he could marry her and not face consequences? Or was his easy demeanor only a cover-up for the torrent of warnings raging through his mind? Did he truly want to marry her? Or did he do it as yet another charity for her? And would the stream of flirting women cease if he came off the market as England’s most eligible bachelor? Likely it would only increase, as women began vying to be his prized leman instead. She would be forever plagued by her suspicions, insecurities, jealousy, and heartache. She chewed her lip harder.

“What is it?” he asked, tipping his head to get a better view of her worried expression and lifting her chin with his fingertip.

And why were they conducting such a serious conversation in a treetop, for heaven sake? She took a deep breath for confidence, something she had thought she had in spades, though now realized she might be lacking.

“In the crofter’s hut, you did not answer my question about marrying me, should my father pursue it, and by all means, you thought you could do nothing to protect me. But now you want marriage?”

“Mari,” he replied, giving her the full attention of his eyes. “I’m scared off easily by the idea of marriage, yes. But I care for you. You’re the first woman I’ve ever offered for. I offer only after careful thought. I was still trying to figure out where my heart was that night by the fire, but as soon as you left Huntington, I knew that whilst I still don’t like the idea of marriage, you’re the only woman I would allow to wear my wedding ring. It’s a special ring. I’ve had it for years. Not just any woman can have it.”

His words stilled, as if he was embarrassed to say his next thought out loud. And embarrassment was a curious sentiment to see on Robert’s brow, considering he was cocksure and lighthearted enough to laugh off any embarrassment. His hands busied themselves by picking up her braid and toying with the frayed ends.

“And you would be the only woman I would ever, what I mean is, go through to completion with…” She scrunched her brow, confused. “You know, em, follow through to the end with…give my seed. For I’ve always been careful to pull away… Does that answer your question?”

No, she realized, it didn’t. As heartfelt and hard as it had been for him to express something so personal, he had still refused to say he wanted to marry her. His explanation was flowery but did nothing to confirm that matrimonial jesses was something he wanted tied about his ankle. What he meant was that he would settle for her if he had to marry someone. Because he cared for her safety, he would set aside his principles and take her to wife. He would make her the mother of his heirs, and he would seat her beside him at board each day. And likely bed his mistress du jour on the side whenever the whim suited him.

She knew she ought to feel honored to have captured his attention in such a way when no other woman had, but an ache in her chest began to throb. A marriage built on a man’s lack of desire to be so tethered would only lead to resentment crumbling their union as time went by. He would then stray, as all men did, and her heart would break. And if he fathered sons on his lemans and all she could produce were daughters, it would be up to him to decide if he recognized them or not, possibly usurping her own children’s place.

“But would you be true to me?” she whispered, her words unsure. That, and she could no longer look at him.

At first he didn’t answer. A foreboding sign, she thought. And then his lips came down to press against hers. His kiss was sweet this time, chaste, innocent, respectful, belying the sinful torrent they had spiraled down minutes before.

“I would do my best to offer the same fidelity I would expect from my wife,” he replied.

Still not a definite yes. I will be faithful to you and only you until the moment of our death. But it was the right sentiment. Could a woman actually hope for more?

She weighed his offer. Give up her freedom and bind herself to him? Refuse him and take her chances running from her father? He was serious right now, but he had put her on the spot. She didn’t know what to say. Taking her hands, he pecked the knuckles on each and smiled, though he seemed unable to look her in the eyes.

Did he think she was rejecting him?

“We return to Huntington, Mari. Think on my offer and tell me your answer sooner rather than later. It’s only a matter of time until your father realizes you’re in my charge. I would prefer to greet him with a legal claim on you rather than watch you dragged away by his brutal hand.”

With that, he let her go and began descending the tree. She followed. Right now she would be returning to Huntington with him, and would sort out the answer to his proposal as best she could.

Chapter Seventeen

Descending from the tree, Robert pulled his hood back in place, covering his face. He could hear Mariel behind him but didn’t look at her. Her lack of enthusiasm stung, but right now, he had her back in his care, an initial victory. He dared not press her and cause her to push him away again. He walked up to the old man now stooping to sift through his meager pile of belongings. A tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek. He picked up the sewing basket. Turning to see Robert, shock had turned his face pale and he showed no fear.

“This was me wife’s.” He offered, holding out the basket. “She made it herself. I used to watch her stitch me shirts by the fireside with the needle and thread from this basket…” He lost his string of thought and turned back to the fire. “How can a man be so cruel to another man? I was no trouble at all.”

But Mariel walked past Robert before he could answer, leading her horse behind her, and took the old man’s arm. “I’m sorry such cruelty befell you. You offered me kindness when you had naught to give. Allow me to offer kindness now to you.” She held out the reins to her mount. “He is well-trained and gentle. You’re welcome to him if it will help you go where you might find aid.”

The old man, eyes widening, shook his head. “My girl, I cannot take your beast. ’Tis an expensive animal, and I hardly think a meal of broth and bread is a fair trade—”