That was the worst of all. Ananda believed that her husband had hit his face on the table because, in the past, he’d been known to get drunk and fall. He’d fallen in the hall several times, down the stairs of the keep, in the bailey, in his solar—aye, he’d fallen before, so when Diara told her mother whathad happened, Ananda believed her. That left Robin nursing a swollen nose and three loose teeth, drinking away his sorrows as his daughter completely disobeyed him.
Everything was going wrong.
The night the de Lohr party departed, he was up most of the night drinking and feeling sorry for himself, falling asleep just before dawn only to be awakened in a couple of hours by Mathis announcing a visitor. He was still drunk when his knight entered, going so far as to berate the man for not having stopped Diara from leaving, but Mathis didn’t have much to say to that, and Robin kicked him out of the solar.
In his place stood a man.
It took Robin several long seconds to realize who it was.
“Cirencester?” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”
Riggs Fairford, otherwise known as Lord Cirencester, came into the solar with a lazy grin on his face. A tall man with a crown of bright white hair, he had big lips, a big nose, and a big voice. He stepped into the chamber and put his hand on Robin’s shoulder as the man tried to rise.
“Nay, my friend, stay seated,” he said. “Do not get up for me. I came to offer my condolences and see how you are faring, but by the look of you, I can guess. I can see how heartbroken you are.”
He sat opposite Robin, who stared at him dumbly. “Over what?”
“The loss of your daughter’s betrothed, of course.”
Still quite drunk, Robin took several moments to realize what he was talking about. “You mean the de Lohr boy?” he said. “That loss?”
“Aye,” Riggs said. “The de Lohr lad. I have just heard of his passing.”
“How?”
“Because the escort taking him from Selbourne to Lioncross passed through Cirencester a few days ago,” he said. “The road they used passed right through my lands. Knowing he was to be your daughter’s husband, I loaned them an escort to the boundaries of my property. I thought you would want that.”
Robin just looked at him, blankly, before grabbing the pitcher on the table. He realized this was a social visit, but not one he particularly wanted to speak of.
“The death of the de Lohr lad doesnothave me heartbroken,” he said as he poured himself more drink. “But I do wish he’d not gotten himself killed. His foolishness has forced me to deal with his father, a contemptible bastard if there ever was one. I hate him.”
Riggs frowned. “Roi de Lohr?” he said. “But I thought he was your dear friend.”
“He isnotmy dear friend,” Robin announced firmly. “I hate the man. I’m sorry you have wasted your time coming here to give me your condolences. They are unnecessary. One less de Lohr in the world does not trouble me.”
It was a rather harsh thing to say, but it lent itself toward the purpose of Riggs’ visit. He’d come for a reason, and it wasn’t to convey only his condolences.
He had quite a different reason in mind.
Riggs and Robin had been neighbors for many years, as the southernmost part of Robin’s land bordered the northernmost part of Riggs’. It was just a tiny border, but one nonetheless. Their families had long been allied, though more of just a pleasant association than a strong alliance.
But that was about to change, if Riggs had anything to say about it.
“It is a large and powerful family you speak of,” he said, reaching for the pitcher himself and looking around for a clean cup. “I remember there was a time when you told me how muchyou needed to be a good friend of Roi de Lohr because there was something you wanted from him.”
“That was true, then.”
“It was something you denied me.”
Robin stopped toying with his cup and looked at him. “Ah,” he said, the light of understanding coming to his eyes. “I see now. You came here because you thought my daughter no longer has a betrothed.”
Riggs smiled as he poured himself some wine in the only cup he could find. “You are not as drunk as you look,” he said. “With the de Lohr lad gone, your daughter is without a marriage contract. Let us be frank—a lady as lovely and wealthy as Lady Diara will not remain unattached for long. I came to see if you would reconsider a marriage between your daughter and my son.”
Robin almost said no. He almost threw his cup of wine in Riggs’ face and ordered him to leave. Riggs’ visit had less to do with actually extending his sympathies than it did with pressing his own agenda. But something stopped Robin from tossing the man out on his arse. Somehow, he could feel his control coming back. He liked it when he could command and manipulate men, and if Riggs wanted something badly enough, he’d do whatever he was told.
“I do not know,” he said as he carefully regarded Riggs. “Tell me what qualities your son has that I should consider.”
Riggs shrugged. “He will inherit the Honor of Cirencester,” he said simply. “He will inherit Totterdown Castle and everything my father and I looted in France when we were fighting wars for Henry. His great-grandfather on his mother’s side was the Duke of Burgundy, for God’s sake. Mayhap de Lohr has ties and wealth and property, but I have that, too, plus royal blood. Flavian has more elite blood flowing through his veins than any de Lohr can claim. Will you still deny him?”
