Lion Heart (31 page)

When we stopped, I realized where we were. “The cave?” I said, looking to Rob in question.

Rob's shoulders lifted, and I looked at the girls. Two of the smaller ones with candles rushed inside, and a dull glow began from within.

“You saved our lives by bringing us here,” Ellie told us, looking down. “So start your new life here too.”

Rob clutched me tight, and I looked at him. He nodded once, taking my chin and kissing me.

I nodded. Rob dismounted and helped me down, and I hugged Ellie. “Thank you,” I whispered. “This is perfect.”

She hugged me. “Hopefully you'll feel the same in the morning,” she laughed, and swatted my rump as I let her go.

The little sprites inside the cave ran out, and I kissed Missy's cheek and thanked her too. Then Rob took my hand and I forgot all about them as he led me inside.

They had lit a fire, and instead of our old pallets there were a new one, fresh stuffed and bigger, with furs and blankets
heaped on it and flowers strewn all around the place. Rob's hand ran up my spine to my neck, and I shuddered. He came in front of me, kissing my neck, and then my cheek, and then the corner of my mouth. “Do you remember what I told you that night?” he whispered, switching his kisses to the other side.

That night
. That night in this cave, when he'd told me—everything. Everything for the first time. “That I changed everything.”

Another kiss, and my clothes started to feel overtight, like my skin were burning, my whole body trying to burst out. “What else?” he murmured.

His lips sucked on my neck, just beneath my ear, and my knees buckled. I gripped him with a gasp. “That you'd keep my heart,” I moaned.

His mouth hovered right over mine, grazing whisper soft over my lips, not giving me what I wanted, what I burned for. “What else, my sweet Scar?”

“That we'd be free,” I said, pressing my lips to his.

His mouth were fire hot, aggressive, powerful, his tongue moving into my mouth and filling me with taste and touch. He gripped my hips and pulled them flush against him, and I pulled my mouth away from his, gasping for breath. He moaned, lips reaching for mine again.

“Rob,” I breathed, panting.

He gave me a kiss-drunk nod.

“Take my dress off,” I asked him. Smiling and dropping a teasing kiss on his mouth, I whispered, “Please.”

Holding me tight, he twisted me around in his arms, trying to untie the knot in my laces Mistress Morgan had tied. With an impatient growl, he yanked and the thing tore. I gasped, but with one hand he pulled my shoulder close to him, kissing my neck as he undid the whole bodice until it gave way, and he tugged the blue kirtle off over my head.

It tore out some flowers with it, and he seized on this new task, dragging his fingers through my hair and plucking out one after the other.

His fingers drew the string of the knot holding my underdress together at my neck until it gave, sweeping my hair over my shoulder. For long seconds, he didn't touch me, and I knew my back, scarred as it were, were exposed before him.

He took a breath and dragged his lips along the long scar Gisbourne had given me. I shivered.

He found another by my spine, and pressed his lips there.

He kissed every mark. He stood, pressing his head into my hair. “I hate that I can't protect you from the pain you've already faced, Scar.”

I turned. “You do,” I told him. “You make it go away.”

He kissed me, pressing me tight, and bunches of new sensations flared and sparked in me with only the thin barrier left between my body and his. I started tugging at his tunic and he let me drag it up over his head, and I pulled the shirt beneath with it.

His chest were bare beneath it, and I felt like my body must be running on something other than air. I couldn't catch
my breath, couldn't remember to try, and still I were moving, alive, more alive than ever before. I put my hands on his chest, knowing I weren't the only one with scars.

“Turn around,” I told him.

He didn't move, looking at me, nervous and mournful, and I took a breath, moving around him.

His back, once punctured and pierced with metal spikes, were a mess. Some were neat circles, but most were craggy dips and ragged tears of healing and infection and pain.

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I ran my hands over his shoulders. He turned, looking at me, shaking his head. “No, my love,” he whispered. A tear fell and he wiped it away, kissing my mouth.

He broke away, touching my cheek.

“I'll never regret those scars,” he told me, pressing our foreheads together. “I'll always remember that as the day I knew you loved me.”

He kissed me again, and I wrapped my arms around him.

He pulled the longer kirtle and the plain underdress up together, and my legs felt the rush of cold. I shivered, and he stopped. “Scar?” he asked, his chest heaving against mine. Waiting. He nudged my nose with his own.

“Please don't stop,” I told him.

Stepping back, Rob pulled the dresses all the way off and pulled me against him, so quick he hadn't even dropped the balled-up cloth and it were pressed like a pillow to my back. He kissed me, and shy and slow, my hands trembling, I pushed the rest of his clothes off him.

And then we were skin to skin, heat to heat, breath to breath.

He pulled me down gentle to the pallet, and he showed me the mysteries of my body that I'd never understood, and it felt like my world came apart and rebuilt again slow, brick by brick, to form a whole new life. And lying there with him by the fire, his body curled around mine and our fingers and legs twined together, I realized what he'd meant, all those months ago.

Nuzzling against his head, I whispered to him, “This is freedom, Rob.”

Using our twined hands to tuck our arms close around my body, he murmured into my hair, “
You
were always my freedom, Scar.”

CHAPTER

I woke up in his arms, the fire cold beside us. I tugged the furs higher, not wanting to move from him yet. My chest were pressed into his, and I could only feel one heartbeat. I didn't know if his body matched mine or mine matched his, but somehow, in the night, they'd fallen into one beat.

One soul. Two bodies.

Married.

“Married,” I whispered out loud, my head on his shoulder.

“That did happen, didn't it?” he said, his chest rumbling beneath me. I could hear the smile in his voice without looking up.

I grinned and kissed the bit of skin nearest to my mouth. “Yes,
husband
. It did.” I raised my head. “Oh—not just husband.
Your Grace.
”

He looked at me, his brows tightening together. “I'm the
earl now.”

I nodded, and he brushed my hair back. “Is that a good thing?”

He sighed, and I rested on his chest again. “I don't know. I'm not sure I was meant to have that title, Scar.”

“Of course you were.”

“I don't think it was a coincidence that I'd done all those horrible things in the Holy Land and came back to find that I wasn't responsible for anyone anymore. It felt like justice, and I've spent so much time trying to atone . . .” He shook his head. “I never thought I'd be in the position to get any of that back, Scar.”

Tucking my head lower, I didn't dare look up at him when I asked this question. “And now?” I asked. I held my breath.

He drew a deep breath. “Now.” The breath ran out of him, and he rolled up onto his side, laying me on my back and looking at me. “If we're going to be Earl and Lady Huntingdon, Scar, we will do it right. Together. We'll protect the shire.”

“Make it prosperous again,” I told him, running my hand up his arm as his thumb stroked my waist. “Make it so there are stores and reserves and these things won't affect us in the future.”

He nodded, his eyes navy and serious. “And if we have any children, we are going to protect them. Watch them grow. Not let them run away to holy wars or London.”

I couldn't help but smile. “Do you really think any children of ours won't be awful troublemakers, Robin Hood?”

He shook his head, smiling. Hair fell on his forehead and I brushed it back. “Last we spoke of it, you didn't sound keen about the idea of children,” he said soft.

“It terrifies me,” I whispered.

“Why?” he asked.

“If a child ever got hurt because of me—” I started, but the awful thought choked me and I stopped, shaking my head. “But I trust God. If He wants us to have babies, Rob, I swear I will find a way to protect them with everything we have. With every
one
we have.”

He nodded, pulling me up to him and kissing me. “We should probably leave this cave at some time, shouldn't we?” he asked between kisses.

“We have to talk to Eleanor. But not yet,” I told him with a smile.

He grinned. “Remind me to petition Richard to have this cave attached to the Huntingdon lands,” he murmured.

I laughed, and he kissed me.

We left the cave in the noon sun, and it felt strange to put on the same clothes as the day before, like I couldn't wear the same thing when I felt like a different person. Rob held my
hand tight and kissed it. “Let's go talk to Eleanor,” he said.

I nodded.

We brought the horse but walked together. It were like stealing a little extra time for ourselves, refusing to go fast back to the world. When we reached the castle people saw us and shouted, hugging and kissing and giving us their good wishes. Even the knights came to us, pledging themselves now to Rob as well.

It were late afternoon by the time we made it to the keep itself. There we found Eleanor, holding court in front of the fireplace, looking very grand. Margaret were sitting with her, but she were staring at the ground, and Eleanor were holding her hand. Winchester were pacing, his arms crossed over his big chest, glancing back at Margaret.

“What's wrong?” I asked, looking at Rob as dread crept over my heart. We hadn't even been married a whole day yet.

Eleanor and Winchester both looked at Margaret, and she lifted her head to show me tears tracked all over her face. Rob squeezed my hand, but we didn't move.

Margaret held up a letter in her lap. “My father,” she whispered. “He's ordered me to travel to London. To marry the future Earl of Hertford.”

Winchester made a low growling sound, like a wolf, and I looked to him. “
De Clare
?” I demanded. “She's meant to marry
de Clare
?”

“Yes,” Winchester gritted out. “The man who arguably took the most pleasure in the prince's cruel treatment of you. Yes, I'm sure he'll be a suitable husband.”

Rob looked fast at me. “Quincy, come with me. Let's take some air.”

“Air?” Winchester snapped. “
Air
? Prince John is doing this because of me!” he roared. “You think de Clare just woke up and decided to be married? No. ‘
Bold words
,' he said. Prince John is ordering this and I swear to God I will see him bleed for it.”