Stephen’s face was grave as he looked at his brother. “Another hour, perhaps. We cannot go faster with the cart.”
Isobel sensed the tension beneath the calm of his voice.
“Take Jamie and a few others ahead,” Stephen called out to the nearest man. “Get a physician and have a room prepared at the castle for Lord FitzAlan.”
She understood Stephen’s purpose. He did not want Jamie to see how grave FitzAlan’s condition was before they had him safely inside the city walls.
Stephen rode beside the cart for the remainder of the journey, but they spoke little. When at last they reached the city, the king’s own physician was waiting at the gate. The elegantly dressed man waved at the driver not to stop and leapt into the moving cart.
“To the keep!” the physician called out as he began to examine his patient.
Jamie was waiting at the steps to the keep. Before she knew it, he and Stephen lifted FitzAlan’s litter and carried him inside the keep. The physician trotted behind in their wake.
Quite suddenly, Isobel found herself alone, relieved of responsibility. She leaned back and let out a long breath. Now that the ordeal was over, she felt so weary! She could not convince herself to rise and get out of the cart.
“Lady Hume.”
She opened her eyes to see King Henry and Robert standing beside the cart. It was the king who had spoken.
“Thank you for caring for my good friend,” King Henry said, holding his hand out to her.
She glanced at her blood-encrusted nails. When she hesitated, the king flustered her completely by lifting her bodily from the cart. It was easy to forget the king was a strong and athletic young man.
“Thank God you are safe,” Robert said, greeting her with a kiss on each cheek. The lines on his handsome face had deepened since she saw him last. “Until Stephen returned last night, I could only guess what happened to you.”
Her heart constricted as she realized she was the reason he looked so haggard. “I am sorry I worried you.”
“That little Linnet, I wanted to strangle her,” Robert said. “I could not squeeze a word out of her.”
Despite his words, Robert sounded impressed.
“I can see you are weary from your ordeal,” the king said and held his arm out for her to walk with him. “But as soon as you are rested, you must tell us everything that happened.”
“As you wish, sire.” What would the king want to know from her that Jamie or Stephen could not tell him?
“Women often notice things that men do not,” the king said.
“Try to recall every detail you can about the men who attacked you—horses, clothes, weapons. An unusual piece of jewelry. Anything that might reveal who these fiends are.”
“I shall do my best, Your Highness.”
“We must learn who these men are,” he said, biting off each word. “These cowards who would lie in wait to murder my commander and commit sacrilegein my name.”
She could feel his rage vibrating through her fingers resting on his arm.
“I shall have their heads on pikes.” More calmly, he said, “You shall tell Robert everything you can remember. Later, I may wish to question you again myself.”
Exhausted as she was, she could not help noticing the king and Robert were on friendlier terms than she thought. ’Twas odd, too, that the king relied upon Robert to help discover the identity of the attackers.
Just what role did Robert play for the king?
Perhaps she underestimated Robert, just as she had Stephen. There was more to both men than met the eye.
Chapter Twenty-three
Isobel awoke weighed down by guilt. There seemed no end to the consequences of her rash decision. FitzAlan was injured, Robert’s feelings were hurt, Linnet was barely speaking to her. She hardly knew where to start making amends.
Since Linnet was close at hand, she would begin with her.
