By dint of smiles and an icy authority that she rarely chose to use, Juliana forced her way through the crowd to Edward’s side.
“Cousin, you must stop this combat immediately.”
Edward turned a piercing stare on her. “Lady Juliana, you will cease attempting to interfere in matters of state.”
She thrust the papers at him. “But I have news tha—”
“Unless you have some comment to make concerning the trial about to commence within that circle, you will be silent.”
She shook the letters before his face. “You don’t understand. I have—”
Edward grasped her wrist, snatched the papers from her and pushed her arm away. “What I understand is that you do not know how to obey orders. I must remember to tell Marr to beat you regularly. Now, you will cease attempting to interfere, or I will have you gagged and bound. Is that understood?”
She had failed. Because of Edward’s stubbornness, Robert would be killed. Eventually, her cousin would read the documents and, in sorrow no doubt, allow her to retire from the world—where she would carry out the work of copying and sending the letters—rather than marry the Scot. But until Edward read the documents, she would have to suffer Robert’s death in silence. Unaware of the tears that dripped steadily down her cheeks, she turned to observe the field of combat.
A circle had been roped off on the keep’s training ground. The sandy area had been raked clear of debris. All who lived and worked nearby crowded around, waiting for the combatants to appear. The Scot arrived first. He took a whetstone from a bag set down outside the circle and began to hone his long blade. He wore no armor, not even a shirt, only his trews, leaving his lower legs and feet bare as well.
“Is he mad?” she whispered.
“Nay,” Edward answered. “Without armor he has greater movement and quickness. The lack of boots assures his footing in ground that could become slick with blood and sweat.”
“Does Robert know this?”
“Aye,” her cousin said. “Look.”
Robert approached, attired in his breeches only, no shirt, no boots, and no armor.
“He is not as large as the Scot,” a man observed.
“True, the Scot has a longer reach and greater weight,” remarked Edward. “Still, Ravensmere can get under Marr’s reach, and the Scot’s own weight can be used against him.”
“But Robert will not fight,” stated Juliana flatly.
“Why say you this? Do you have so little faith in your current husband?” asked the king.
“I have the utmost faith in him, and that is precisely the problem. To save me from the stake, Robert was compelled to swear that he would not kill in battle for a year and a day.”
“Why did one of you not tell me of this vow before the bargain was struck and could still be undone?” Edward snarled, anger flashing across his face. “Through sheer stupidity, I am about to lose one of my best knights.”
“’Twas not stupidity that kept me silent, cousin, but loyalty. Robert did not want me to mention it, and neither you nor Sir Marr would listen to me. As for Robert, I believe he is too noble for his own good. He regrets that through circumstance he was forced to marry me and spoil your plans. He sees this fight as a way to atone for disloyalty to you. The fact that he did so for the best of reasons is irrelevant to him.”
Edward stared at her, his eyes wide with astonishment. “Your husband is a fool.”
“Aye, but I love him anyway.”
The royal gaze narrowed. “You do?”
“Yes. When we were forced to wed, I was angry, not at Robert but at my loss of freedom.”
“Bah, freedom is highly overrated, and no responsible human being is ever truly free.”
“I agree. These past weeks traveling with Robert have shown me how truly blessed I am.”
A roar went up from the surrounding crowd.
Juliana whipped her gaze to the center of the ring. Robert and Marr stood face to face and saluted each other with their swords.
As the sun’s rays touched the field of combat, their swords clashed with the first stroke.
• • •
Robert fought with every defensive trick he knew. For a long while, he blocked all of the Scot’s blows. The sun climbed, and the day became warm. Sweat slicked their bodies. Then the Scot struck, was blocked, spun and struck again. Robert was not quick enough, and a bloody gash opened along his rib cage. He did not falter. In order to give that cutting stroke, the Scot exposed his shoulder, but Robert stepped back. ’Twas a reasonable risk on the Scot’s part, well worth it if he landed his blow.
“Bluidy fool. Ye had an opening and dinna take it. Are ye that puir a swordsman, or are ye a coward true?”
Robert refused to rise to the bait, calmly waiting the Scot’s next attack. He cast a quick glance to the crowd. They were all focused on the combat. Juliana would be able to leave the castle unnoticed. If she could not bring herself to wed Marr, Robert prayed she would use the opportunity he gave her.
The Scot blistered the air with curses, trying to provoke a careless move from Robert. But he could not be swayed to act in anger or haste. Juliana needed all the time she could get.
Marr lunged, wildly. Robert dodged. The Scot settled to a more methodical attack, nicking Robert whenever and wherever he could.
Robert did his best to minimize the damage. He could ill afford to lose blood and become weak, thus ending the battle too soon.
He feinted then drove the Scot back with a flurry of slashes he knew the man could block but would cause him to give ground. ’Twould delude the fellow into thinking this was actually a battle instead of an execution.
As Marr hung on the rope, Robert caught sight of Juliana beside Edward, tears streaming down her face. He froze instead of stepping out of the Scot’s reach as he intended. What was she doing here, and why was she with Edward?
Marr swung savagely. The clash knocked Robert’s blade from his grip and numbed his arm from fingers to elbow.
I do not want to marry the cursed Scot.
The man raised his sword, certain of the killing blow.
Robert ducked under the sweeping blade and danced away.
You are the best man I have ever known. I love you.
That is what she had been trying to tell him?
“Come back, ye Sassenach coward.” Marr pursued him, lunging wildly.
I will cry great rivers at your death . . . because I love you.
She loved him. Him, Robert Clarwyn. Juliana loved him. He was the greatest of fools. He stuck out his foot and tripped the Scot. The man’s sword went flying as he fell. Robert leapt atop him, raining blows on the broad Scottish face. His vow had been to not kill in battle. Nothing had been said about beating his opponent senseless.
The Scot twisted, and Robert landed on the ground with his foe above. His thudding fists continued to bludgeon the man.
Despite the flurry of blows, the Scot’s hands closed around Robert’s throat.
Unable to break the stranglehold, Robert gave a great heave with his legs and lower body.
The two men rolled over and over again. Marr lost his hold. Robert came out on top. He gripped the man’s windpipe in one hand and squeezed. The Scot flailed. There was only one way to end this. Robert put all his strength and all his love for Juliana into one blow that smashed into the Scot’s chin. The man’s head snapped backward. His body went stiff, then suddenly lax. Robert lifted his hand from the fellow’s throat but remained sitting over his fallen opponent, staring at the bloodied face.
“Robert!” He raised his head to see Juliana and Edward running toward him. The crowd was cheering. A deafening roar struck his ears. As if released by Juliana’s voice, his eyes rolled upward, and he crumpled to the ground.
• • •
He opened his eyes to the sight of Juliana seated at the foot of his bed. “Come closer, wife.”
She moved to sit beside him.
“You stayed.” He was amazed.
“Aye.” Her lips turned upward.
He took her hands. “Because you love me.”
“Aye.” She smiled.
“I love you, too.”
She grinned. “Good. I want you to love me.”
“I always will.”
“As I you,” she stated serenely.
“What has Edward decided?”
“Nothing. Marr admitted the combat ended fairly even though no one died, but he refused to have anything more to do with the crazy Sassenachs and suggested Edward seek elsewhere for a Scot to join with England.”
“I suppose Edward was in a temper.”
She grinned. “Yes, but only a small one. He was willing to forgive us for ruining his plans with the Scots because of the hold we have given him over the pope.”
“You found the letters and gave them to Edward? All of them?”
“Yes.”
“What of the Beguines and raising women to the priesthood?”
“Sister Anna has copies. I can get more from her, should I wish to help the cause. She will see that they are published. You should have told me you found those letters and had them safe. Basti took the copies I made. Had I known you had them, we could have avoided much unpleasantness and saved you from having to beat that nice Scot near to death.”
“Edward is welcome to those letters. Thought they may not be of much use to him if they are broadcast. I am as glad to be rid of them as I am to be rid of the Scot.”
“’Twas your defeat of the man that has put us out of favor with Edward despite our gift. He swears that if he must go to war with Scotland, it will be our fault, and before he left, he ordered us to stay at Ravensmere for at least a year.”
“And this pleases you, wife?”
“Very much.” She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek.
He thrust a hand through his hair. “Let me be certain I understand you. You wish to live with me as my wife?”
She nodded. “Aye, Robert. That is my choice.”
“And Edward did not forbid it.”
“He did not.”
Robert studied her, afraid to hope. “Be certain that this is what you want, for I will never give you up.”
Her smile broadened. “I am certain.”
“You may have to forego having your choice from time to time.”
“As will you.”
“Are you not shamed to be wed with a man who killed his own father?”
“Edward confirmed everything you told me. I do not know how you could have acted otherwise.”
“Well enough then.” He stared at her, scarce daring to believe her words.
“Robert?”
“Aye.”
“Will you kiss me now?”
“What if I do not?”
“If you choose not to kiss me now, then I will wait for you to kiss me when it pleases you.”
He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her to his chest, and kissed her soundly. He wanted no misunderstanding that he would always choose her, whenever and wherever possible.
“What changed your mind?” he asked.
“You let me choose.”
He wrinkled his brow.
“When you made your choice to fight Marr, you let me choose whether to stay or go. You didn’t even tell me I had to wed Marr if I stayed.”
“What took you so long to realize this?”
“I am very stubborn.”
“Thank the saints.” He cradled Juliana in his arms.
’Twas her turn to look confused. “You thank the saints for my stubbornness?”
“Aye,” he said, grinning broadly at her. “For if you were not so determined to have your own way, you would not be here now, would you?”
“You have a point.”
“And your stubbornness assures me that no matter how you and I disagree, you will always stay with me.”
“Always, Robert.”