Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

“There is a boy in the kitchens. Says he was sent to work in the stables and will not leave without speaking to you, my lord.” His steward sniffed. “Shall I have the guards throw him out?”

Robert Thornton, Lord Highworth, was tickled to see his crusty steward in even more of a foul humor than usual. He tried daily to ruffle the man and a mere boy had accomplished what he could not? Most curious. “I will see the boy.”

It took a moment for Robert to regain his footing. He’d drunk to excess last night. And the night before and the night before that. He wiped the sweat from his brow. It was good to be back home. The past fortnight he’d agreed to Edward’s demands and visited a handful of eligible maidens. Found none to his liking and proceeded to drown out their shrill voices with drink. One was too tall, one too short, and one laughed like a dying pig. He shuddered thinking on hearing such a dreadful sound every day for the rest of his life.

In truth, he had no desire to marry. He planned to spend his days drinking, wenching, and wagering on the most foolish things. With no vexing wife to shriek at him from morn to night .

In the kitchens, he found a boy so dirty it was difficult to determine the color of his hair beneath the grime. Robert detested filth. His brothers teased him for how often he bathed.

“You have a message for me, boy?”

The boy blinked. “You look just like him.” Then, realizing he was in the presence of a noble, he pushed back from the table and stood up straight.

“I am good with horses, my lord. I was told I would find a place in your stables.”

The boy hungrily eyed a platter of food one of the serving girls carried out to the hall.

“What is your name?”

“Rabbie, my lord.”

“We Thorntons care naught for titles. I am Robert. Sit and fill your belly.” Robert heaped the plate high with food and slid it across the table. The greedy manner in which the child ate made him wonder when the boy had last tasted a decent meal.

“How long have you been traveling?”

“A month. I had no horse, so I walked all the way from London.”

“Who said you would find a place here?”

The boy looked up at him, a fearful look on his face. “I canna remember.”

Robert narrowed his eyes and leaned across the table.

“Do not lie to me. Tell me the truth or I will lock you in my dungeon until you are an old man. There are rats down there. They feast on small children.”

Rabbie gasped. “Truly?”

Robert’s lip twitched. The boy looked more interested than fearful.

“Then I shall feed you to the pigs.”

“’Twas a man said you needed someone good with horses.”

“I know the secret you carry.” Robert leaned against the wall, one booted foot crossed over the other. He looked down, flicking a speck of dirt off his tunic. The boy was watching every movement, so Robert casually rested a hand on his sword.

The rigors of the journey caught up to the boy as his face crumpled. “How could you? I swore,” he whispered.

This was much better. What was Edward up to? He was like an obstinate woman. He snorted.

“I swear all the time. This secret came from the man who looks like me but not as handsome.”

Eyes huge, Rabbie put his head on the table. “I said I would not tell. He said it would keep you safe. Why would he tell you?” The boy’s eyes leaked, leaving tracks in the dirt on his face and puddling on the clean table.

“Out with the tale.”

“You won’t truly feed me to the pigs?”

“Nay. Speak, boy. I needs be sure you are truthful before I tell you what I know.” And this was why he won more wagers than he lost.

The boy stared at his plate for a long time, sniffling and wiping his eyes. When he regained his composure, he directly met Robert’s gaze.

“Your brother sent me. I didn’t know he was your brother for all those years until he told me in the tower, where I visited him.”

What the bloody hell? “The Tower of London. Where my brother is held. Continue.”

He’d heard no news. Surely the boy was mistaken.

“We always called him Robin. It wasn’t until I visited him in the tower he told me his real name.” The boy took a deep breath.

“He said you believed him dead. But he is not. He is the bandit of the wood. Your brother, John Thornton.”

Robert leaned against the wall, unsteady. He poured a cup of wine and drained it.

The boy blubbered. “You tricked me. You did not know.” He wept. “I have failed him. I swore I would not tell.”

Robert strode to the table and patted the boy on the back. He went sprawling on the floor. Not very hearty, this lad. He reached out a hand and helped the boy to his feet.

“’Twas wicked of me. John will understand.” Robert smiled, not letting Rabbie see how much the news distressed him. “No one can resist the Thornton charm or the threat of my pigs.”

The boy slid him a narrow look. “He will die an awful death.”

So much made sense. John was alive. Robert and his brothers would remedy whatever had happened. His older brother was the bandit of the wood. He could scarcely believe the boy but for the truth on his face. Robert heard Lord Denby had found favor with the king. His gut told him Denby was responsible for his brother’s current accommodations.

“John will not die.” Robert paced back and forth across the kitchen, his head aching. “You have a place here in the stables. I must dispatch messengers to my brothers. Go and bathe, then come to my solar and tell me the tale from the beginning, when you first met John.”

“You want me to wash? ’Tis bad for the humors of the body.”

Robert threw his head back and laughed. “Everyone at Highworth Castle bathes.”

The boy wrinkled his nose, seeming to have second thoughts. Robert barely resisted the urge to scare him again.

“Go. When you come back clean, I will see you have something sweet to eat.

“Featherton,” he bellowed.

The man looked down his nose. “My lord?”

“Send the wenches back to the village. I must send messages to my brothers.”

“Shall I send all three back?”

His steward did not approve of Robert’s appetites.

“Yes, all of them. I have much to think on.”

“As you wish, my lord.” The man turned on his heel and glided out of the kitchen.