Page 85 of An Earl for the Archeress

King Richard leaned back, propping his reddish beard between his pointer and thumb. “Surprisingly, your grand thieving scheme isn’t what concerns me. But more precisely, whose permission did you seek to marry? Not mine. And it seems you usurped a betrothal to William of Nottingham by stealing the woman promised to him. It seems nothing of Nottingham’s was safe from your thieving.”

Ah, there it is. My marriage. To someone other than one of Richard’s eligible English noblewomen. Although, why now did he care? Robert was no longer an earl. He was no longer much of anything. Unless King Richard enslaved him or had him executed, there was not much more the king could do to him. He took a deep breath, glancing at Nottingham, who smirked at him, and began.

“I married Mariel Crawford, the daughter of Harold Crawford of Ayrshire. She fled the man’s violence, and I offered protection in marriage. We were already going to elope when I discovered Crawford had promised her to William. And with all due respect, I decided waiting for your consent might not come soon enough, for no one knew when you might return to England.”

Robert shot a glance at Nottingham and continued. “After hearing how William would be happy to put her in her place, I followed through on taking her to wife, for his deeds have been dark since he was left in charge of England, and I knew Mariel would fare no differently at his hands than your kingdom has fared. Mariel is my wife, like it or not, and our marriage is bound and sealed. There is no annulment possible. The only thing possible is to see me killed and her widowed.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Richard stood and the hall hushed. “So you, my most eligible earl, married someone of your choosing with no familial clout in England without your liege’s consent when I needed you to secure a good alliance?”

Robert kept his eyes locked on his king’s, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Can this be proven?”

Again Robert nodded. “Yes. Father Tucker, a lowly priest at Creake Abbey. He keeps the register. Which Mariel and I both signed.”

Richard said nothing, then rubbed his beard. It seemed both anger and admiration warred on his brow.

“I do have familial clout in England!” erupted Crawford. “I am second cousin to you and your brothers!” He rounded on Robert. “And you had no right to take Mariel! She was never meant for you!”

“No,” Robert countered, whipping around to face him. “I didn’t have the right. And you did, in fact, have the right to marry her off to any man you chose. You thought that after months of searching for her, forcing her to wed Nottingham would strengthen your ties in England, just as forcing her to wed my father would have done, had he not died. But can you not see that betrothing her to my father is what sent her fleeing in the first place? She lives and breathes just like any man, and you terrified her. You relied on your growing friendship to Ranulf de Blondeville, your friendship with Nottingham, and your unrecognized ties to King Richard to validate the power you sought and still seek. You ride through King Richard’s lands, as if you have some claim to authority.” He scoffed incredulously. “And is it not true that you hope to see King William the Rough of Scotland dethroned? I’d say that borders on sedition.”

“Nonsense you speak.” Crawford growled with a dismissive wave.

“Is it? You met with my father about your intentions to usurp your Scottish monarch when you betrothed Mariel, did you not? Little does anyone else know, but those parchments are still locked in a chest at Huntington upon my detainment. Sadly for you, both my father and I saw value in saving them. He, because he was just as vile a man as you, and I…because they seemed like they might become valuable in the future, should you ever pursue your ambitions.”

“Is this true?” asked King Richard, his eyes narrowing.

Crawford glowered at Robert, trying to determine if he bluffed, but was wise enough not to say anything.

“You admit that you dislike your king and think little of his leadership. The proof is at Huntington,” Robert said, seething.

“Nothing of such was found there,” Nottingham assured Crawford. “My men searched every room.”

“Except the vaults,” Robert said.

Nottingham gauged him, a snarl curling his lips, indicating Robert had nudged a sore spot. “Your guardsmen said you kept the keys to the vaults.”

“Then my guardsmen are loyal to me and lied to you like a rug on your floor.” Robert chuckled. “Normally, I do keep the keys, but I made arrangements with my steward the night I eloped, in the event my capture or worse, death, should come to pass. I assure you the proof is still there.” He returned his attention to Crawford. “You knew from the day you met me that I wouldn’t be your pawn, and little did you know, I was hiding Mariel all along. ’Tis why you took your leave so soon, for Mariel was not there, or so you thought. Yes, I took bold liberty and married Mariel, and unless you plan to execute me or have already done so to her, our union is binding.” Robert glared, his chest rising and falling with coursing rage. “And you couldn’t stand seeing your daughter happy with me.”

Crawford snapped and lunged at him. “You stole from me, you cocky upstart bastard—”

Royal guardsmen charged forth to rein him back, but not before Robert met the threat with his manacled hands and whipped them over Crawford’s head, cinching the chain about his neck to lock him under control.

King Richard jumped to his feet, and the guardsmen tried to pry his chain free, but he held fast.

“Release him, Robert! You, the lad that I’ve known all my years, are better than this,” the king scolded.

“Not until I know he won’t take a swing at me!” Robert bit out, straining against Crawford’s force.

He knew he looked like a gladiator on display. He knew that his trousers and undergarments slouched so that his nether hair was sprouting just above the waistline. He knew that he ground his bare feet into the soiled rushes beneath him. But he wasn’t letting go until he knew Crawford submitted.

The guards managed to break his death grip and shoved him back. He stumbled, seeing Crawford taken to the floor and subdued, and turned to the king, his chest rising and falling from the exertion. “I love her, Your Majesty,” he declared, his voice shaking with both rage and emotion. “I know my decision didn’t carry your blessing and doesn’t carry your favor, but knowing she suffers is making me mad. She should be at my side, penniless as I now am. From the moment I met her, I wanted no other. I have nothing left, but if you release me, I’ll walk to Scotland barefoot, if I must. I know not who betrayed me if it wasn’t Jonathan, but none of it matters now. My wife belongs with me.”

“What have you to offer her?” Richard asked. “With no castle and no servants, no money and no property. Not even a horse. As poorly as you claim she was treated, she is still a Scottish noblewoman requiring, at bare minimum, a title.”

Robert held out his manacles as if revealing his soul. “I have nothing but myself. But I’d rather see Mariel poor and free than trapped one more minute in a dungeon cell, for I don’t believe the good Sheriff of Ayrshire is the type to accommodate her with a bath and warm hearth.”

“And why should I release you, Robert, formerly Earl?” the king asked, sitting down.