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“Two days through Sherwood, up to Barnsdale.”
“Right. We will go slowly to make sure she’s comfortable.”
“There’s nothing comfortable about the forest, Gregory. What about bandits and vagabonds?”
“I will take her myself, old friend, to guarantee her safety. I’ve brought guards with me.”
I thought I’d seen a band of men stationed in the courtyard when I snuck through the fields to get to my wing of the manor.
To my utter amazement, it sounded like Father was actually considering the trek. He hardly ever left Wilford. Even more, he wasn’t a brave man. He was a practical one. A healer named Wulfric who lived in the depths of the Barnsdale Forest up north in Yorkshire screamed anything but practical.
Father’s voice lowered. I could hardly hear it now, so I crept halfway down the flight, putting my ear to the wall to listen closely.
“No,” Father said, “I’ll not trust anyone else with my wife besides myself.”
Gregory sniffed. “Fine. Then accompany us. I won’t let my sister out of my hands, either.”
“I’ll need to think on this overnight, Gregory.”
“I don’t know if Joan has that time, Thomas.”
I scuttled down the rest of the steps, deciding now was as good a time as any. Swinging myself around the stairs, and popping out into the study where they talked, I blurted out, “I think we should take Mama to the healer, Father.”
Their faces shot up from the candlelit table. Father’s scowl pierced to my bones, while Uncle Gregory’s face wrinkled with a wry smile.
Once he noticed the bruise on my cheek, his smile faltered. His brow furrowed before he glanced over at my father.
Thomas had his knuckles down on the table, squeezing tighter as he laid eyes on me. “No one asked you, Robin.” He met Gregory’s glance. “Can you believe the impudence of this girl?”
“She’s young, Tom. Give her time to—”
“She’s not that young!” He spread a hand toward me, incredulous. “Suitors line up at our door, and she denies each and every one of them the opportunity to even gaze upon her plain face! Do you not see the predicament it puts me in?”
“I’m not ready to marry yet,” I chided. Or ever, perhaps. I’d rather be a lonely spinster all my life than grovel at the feet of the stuffy young noblemen scum Father introduced me to. Or a she-wolf, devouring them all.
“Let us not get sidetracked,” Gregory said, diverting the subject with a flap of his hand. “How are you, dear niece?”
His eyes asked more than he was saying. I couldn’t hide the bruise in the lantern light, and I didn’t want to. I needed my uncle to see.
“Positively radiant, Uncle Gregory.” I curtsied for him, and he laughed.
As his laugh died, he turned to my father. “You see? Robin is on my side.”
“Of course she is,” Father said. “The little hellion hates me.”
God, I wonder why?
“Regardless,” he continued with a flare of his nostrils, “this isn’t a vote or a democracy. Joan is my wife.”
“And my sister,” Gregory warned.
“And my mother,” I added.
“I will decide what is best for her,” Father said with finality. “I’ll not hear anymore on the subject. Robin, go to your room. I thought I told you to stay hidden so the adults could talk.”
You mean so the men could talk. I crossed my arms defiantly. “You just said I’m not that young.”
“Still too young and naïve to have a say in this matter.” There was a threat in his eyes. I knew I’d be taking another beating if I didn’t make myself scarce.
