Read Online Jennifer Roberson - [Robin Hood 01] by Lady of the Forest - Free Book Online

she reached the field.”
    It made no sense at all. “My lord—”
    Smoothly he interrupted, “I think they will make a fine couple. Do you not agree?”
    Marian thought of Robert of Locksley, of whom she knew too little. And of Eleanor deLacey, of whom she knew more than she liked. “Of course,” she murmured politely.
    While inwardly, unexpectedly, an emptiness was born.

Five
    The Earl of Huntington eyed his son in apprehension. Robert was not, the earl felt, paying proper heed to John’s temper; in fact, he was not paying heed to anything. Certainly not to his father, who had tried and failed discreetly to signal the need for careful voyaging; nor to John himself, currently peering from beneath scowling dark brows in squinty-eyed intensity at the young man only just returned from Crusade.
    “Well?” John snapped.
    The earl held his breath as his son turned from the door. Locksley’s face was devoid of expression. “Well?” he echoed.
    Has he gone mad, to treat John this way? Huntington’s lips jerked in a brief rictus as he grimaced distaste sharply, giving away his concern. Fortunately John was not looking at him, but at his son.
    Not known as a patient man, or one much given to tolerance, the Count of Mortain displayed his intemperate ill-humor. “My brother,” he declared between clenched teeth. “You said you had been with him.”
    Locksley inclined his head. A lock of pale hair forsook his back and fell forward across his shoulder, shielding the oblique line of one cheekbone and lower jaw. “So I was, my lord. In the Holy Land.”
    The earl pressed a hand against his heart, which beat somewhat irregularly beneath costly cloth. Did Robert think any small favor the king had bestowed upon him thousands of miles away might render him inviolate to John’s more immediate wrath? Everyone knew John was unpredictable, petty, vindictive . . . and completely indifferent to his eldest brother’s wishes.
    Be calm, he told himself. No good is gained by assumption before its due time. Inwardly he nodded. In charity, perhaps his son didn’t know about John Lackland. Before departing Robert had not been much concerned with court intrigue or the growing discontent among the peers whom his father counted as friends and companions. He had always been a quiet, private boy, much given to disappearing into forgotten chambers in the old hall, or into the nearby wood. Robert had eschewed many of the interests other heirs slavishly followed—but then, Robert had never been quite like any of the others, ever; too much of his mother in him.
    But he was not now like his mother or anyone the earl recognized, so cold-eyed and masked. This is not the boy I knew . . . It registered somewhat sluggishly, with slow acknowledgment. Private, yes; secretive, often; but not this overwhelming inwardness.
    “My brother,” John repeated. “When did you see him last?”
    Locksley’s eyes flickered minutely. “Before I sailed for England.”
    John’s gaze narrowed unattractively; he had little flesh to spare across the thin bridge of his nose. “Before he fell into Leopold’s Austrian hands, and thence into German Henry’s.”
    “Just so, my lord.”
    In an idleness belied by an underlying intensity, John smiled coolly. “What did he say, my brother? The last time you saw him?”
    For the first time the earl became aware of the scar winding the underside of his son’s jaw. Not new, not old; obvious now only because Robert’s color had altered, if only minutely. And then it faded, and the scar was gone, and Locksley was answering quietly. “Many things, my lord. Issuing orders, discussing strategy—”
    “With you?”
    Locksley paused a moment, then let the insinuation pass. “He spoke with many of us, my lord. I was honored to share his confidence on many occasions . . . it was his way, my lord, to gather men to his presence to see what they thought of certain situations—”
    “ ‘Certain situations,’ ”John again cut