The Way Back

Chapter Eleven

Guy couldn't stifle a groan. Robin's grip tightened in sympathy, before releasing him.

"And this was yesterday morning you say? How early?"

"Not long after Terce. No one knew she was going down there. The sisters had offered...."

"Let's go," interrupted Guy. "We're wasting time. Her father will have her, or Isabella."

He strode from the chapter house, vaguely aware the others followed, Robin apologising over his shoulder for their rudeness. Guy sneered. How noble, sharing the blame. He knew he hadn't behaved very well, but what did they expect? Meg had been relying on him, leaving that message with Much, and he'd failed her. His delay meant she was – where exactly? He ran a hand distractedly across his forehead. It was only a guess that her father was behind the abduction; she could be anywhere.

But it was a place to start. He swung up into the saddle; pulled back at Robin's shout.

"Guy, wait."

Robin ducked back inside, reappearing moments later.

"Come on, to Cratley first, and the manor. We need fresh mounts. The reeve there is going to Nottingham in a few days, he'll bring our horses and return these."

They spurred forward. Dust kicked up from three sets of hooves as they charged along the track towards the King's Highway like men pursued.

                                                                 ---------------------------------------------------

​​​Meg stayed in bed the next morning, declaring to herself that she'd rather starve than sit through another meal with her father, but to her surprise Beth brought a tray up to the room. She placed it on the bed beside her and then opened the shutters, allowing in the crisp morning air.

"I didn't think he'd allow this," Meg said, round a mouthful of broth-soaked bread.

"He's in quite a good mood this morning." Beth wouldn't meet her eyes; she lifted the pitcher from the washstand and started to leave. Meg eyed her closely.

"What is it Beth? What aren't you telling me? If he's in a good mood...oh...he's heard back from Lord Rede, hasn't he?"

"He'll be here this afternoon," the maid said miserably.

"Then you must get word to Thomas straight away. Please Beth. If you won't help me, I'll....I'll...."

"Calm down, my lady. I'll do what I can. Thomas is right sensible, he'll know what if anything can be done. In the meantime, you just rest. Don't go doing anything rash, or come time to get you away you'll be in no state to go."

"But if he's coming here, today...what if he wants to take me away?"

"Then you must plead injury," Beth said firmly. "Say that after yesterday's rough handling, any more travelling will just about kill you. By the looks, it wouldn't be far from the truth. No – you do nothing. I'll get word to Thom and we'll wait and see what he suggests."

So Meg waited: bored, irritable, and too restless to sleep. Mid-morning her father came upstairs to apprise her of arrangements; she turned her face away, unwilling to waste her breath. Her father only saw Rede's public face, she could never dissuade him.

"He's better than you deserve," Lord Bennett snapped as he slammed out of the room.

Midday came and went with a whispered caution from Beth that she'd heard nothing yet. As the afternoon sun splayed across the floorboards, Meg felt sick with fear. Her shift stuck to her skin. The only other time she'd felt this helpless had been in the dungeon, but there, she'd had Guy. She remembered the deep, comforting timbre of his voice; tenderly stroking her face, he'd coaxed out stories of her uneventful life...and been evasive about his own. She'd never learn now, had lost her chance. Tears seeped down her cheeks. What was I thinking? Letting a few hateful words drive her away had been beyond foolish.