“I had some success, yes,” William said, a bit smugly, Mary thought. She suddenly wanted to see him ride. To see if he had calluses on his hands from fighting. To see how strong he really was. She bit her lip. “My lady, it’s only that I thought if I wanted to test my mettle, I ought to go before I married rather than after.”
“Well, yes, but . . .” She caught her breath, her eyes watered, she rubbed her face and turned away—“And finally, here we are, and look at me, I’m a mess, in my worst kirtle, without a veil, covered in dirt and sweat, what you must think of me—”
Eleanor stepped up, put her hand on Mary’s mouth and glared with an admonishing look. Mary subsided.
William de Ros, who had been William de Ros this entire time and she didn’t even know it, bowed graciously. “Lady Mary. You are very well met.”
“I am?”
“I think meeting you like this is better than in some hall with God and everybody looking on.”
“Oh. I . . .” She had lost all sense and power of speech. This was stupid. She ought to say something clever and gracious.
“You there! Where are you going!” A group of dark-cloaked men approached from behind. Two of them had swords. They quickened their paces.
“Oh, no,” Mary murmured.
“You go on ahead,” William said. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Are you sure—”
“All I need to do is delay them. Go now.”
Mary still wasn’t entirely sure William de Ros existed. She didn’t want to go, but the horses had become nervous, not to mention the people around them. “Can I see you tomorrow?” she blurted.
“I will come and see you tomorrow,” he said.
“You promise?”
“On my honor I promise. Now go!”
“Mary, come on!” John urged her. He took hold of the reins of Walter’s horse while William jogged on to intercept their pursuers.
Mary, John, and Eleanor went quickly, hurrying the horses. Behind them, William stood in the middle of the track, hands on hips, taking up space.
“Good sirs, you seem to be in some distress. Is there anything I can help you with?” he announced cheerfully.
“No, my lord; if you will step aside—”
“But if you’ll just tell me what the matter is—”
By then, Mary and the others were out of earshot. S
he kept them moving, toward the beacon of the towering abbey.
“I like him,” Henry announced after they had ridden a ways. “I think you should marry him.”
Mary didn’t want to think about that just now. “Is that a royal command, sire?” And what would she do if he said yes?
“Only a suggestion,” he said.
They walked on. This night could not finish soon enough.
* * *
The palace courtyard was in an uproar, blazing with torches and a whole troop of horses waiting to set off. Guards and clerks swarmed, and on the low steps leading up to the hall a cluster of serious men were in conference. The young king’s absence had been noted.
John sighed. His plan for returning depended on no one noticing Henry was gone. “We’ll never get past all this.”