Page 31 of Feathers in the Wind
She looked up at him and said between clenched teeth. ‘You did well yourself.’
Joan, who had remained silent during the exchange sank on to a chair by the fire and rested her forehead on her hand.
‘It is as if the clock has been turned back twenty years,’ she said. ‘Denzil and Adam. Always Denzil and Adam.’
Robin crossed to the bed and looked down at his brother. ‘You look convincingly terrible,’ he said.
Adam gave a snort of laughter, his hand flying to his ribs. ‘I’ve felt better. Thank you, Robin. You didn’t need to take my part.’
Robin shrugged. ‘I’m sorry it has come to this, Adam.’
Adam frowned. ‘Sorry for what? My quarrel is with Denzil and Louise, never with you. Whatever our political differences, at least let us put our filial differences to one side. I gave Denzil my parole and you have my word I’ll not break it. Go and leave me to sleep, for God’s sake. We’ll talk tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow,’ Robin said and glanced at the shuttered window. ‘I think it’s already tomorrow. God’s death, I crave a bed.’
Perdita stood aside to let Robin pass, telling him to seek out some food in the kitchens and she would see that a bed was prepared for him in one of the spare chambers.
Joan rose to her feet as the sound of Robin’s boots sounded on the stairs. She crossed to the bed and picked up Adam’s hand, pressing it to her lips.
‘I’m sorry to bring such strife to this house,’ Adam murmured.
‘Don’t fool yourself that Robin’s noble offer has anything to do with you,’ Joan said. ‘I’m quite sure that the longer you are indisposed, the happier Robin will be.’
‘What do you mean?’
Perdita smiled and caught Joan’s eye. ‘It seems that Robin and Bess have formed an attachment,’ she replied.
‘Ah,’ Adam said. ‘A woman. That explains a great deal.’
Perdita reached out to smooth the bolsters but Adam put a restraining hand on hers.
‘Don’t fuss Perdita. If I need anyone I’ll call for Ludovic.’
Perdita collected the sodden clothes and at the door turned back to glance at the bed. His eyes were closed and apparently unaware that Perdita watched her, Joan smoothed the hair away from his forehead in a maternal gesture. Left with the strange sensation of having seen something that was not hers to see, Perdita closed the door and crept away.
Chapter 8
Preswood Hall, June 1643
‘What are you reading?’ Robin asked.
Adam rolled over and hauled himself painfully up on the bolsters. He held up the battered leather-bound volume.
‘Joan lent me Geoffrey Clifford’s journal of his travels,’ he said. ‘I wish that I’d been able to visit even half the places Geoffrey did in his wanderings.’
Robin took the book from him and flicked through the pages. ‘You spent six years on the Continent; you must have tales of your own to tell.’
Adam’s mouth twisted into a rueful smile. ‘Several of those years were spent in Leipzig Castle. Anyway, I had no money for the indulgence of travel, Rob. I had to earn my living the only way I knew how, with my sword. What brings you up here?’
Robin shrugged and a rueful smile curled the corners of his mouth. ‘A need to escape the company of women for a while, no matter how delightful that company might be. Do you play cards?’
‘Of course. You know the rules of Penneech?’
Robin nodded. He pulled up a chair beside the bed and dealt the cards.
‘How’s the leg?’
‘I can’t put any weight on it yet, but it’s the damned ribs that hurt the most. Just don’t make me laugh.’
