Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

H e didn't trip and fall.

He knew he didn't trip and fall, no matter what Diara and Roi had attested to. They'd both sworn he tripped on the rug under his table and pitched forward, knocking himself silly. Two witnesses with the same story.

But Robin knew differently.

While Roi gathered his troops and departed for Lioncross Abbey along with Diara and Iris, because Diara had convinced her mother that he'd given his permission, Robin had remained in his solar and sulked. He didn't even bother seeing them off because they'd all gone against him and he'd lost control. It was as simple as that. Somehow, Roi had taken over his daughter, his niece, and finally his wife because Ananda was so thrilled her daughter was finally to be married that she didn't care that the man had assaulted her husband.

In fact, she didn't believe he had.

That was the worst of all. Ananda believed that her husband had hit his face on the table because, in the past, he'd been known to get drunk and fall. He'd fallen in the hall several times, down the stairs of the keep, in the bailey, in his solar—aye, he'd fallen before, so when Diara told her mother what had happened, Ananda believed her. That left Robin nursing a swollen nose and three loose teeth, drinking away his sorrows as his daughter completely disobeyed him.

Everything was going wrong.

The night the de Lohr party departed, he was up most of the night drinking and feeling sorry for himself, falling asleep just before dawn only to be awakened in a couple of hours by Mathis announcing a visitor. He was still drunk when his knight entered, going so far as to berate the man for not having stopped Diara from leaving, but Mathis didn't have much to say to that, and Robin kicked him out of the solar.

In his place stood a man.

It took Robin several long seconds to realize who it was.

"Cirencester?" he gasped. "What are you doing here?"

Riggs Fairford, otherwise known as Lord Cirencester, came into the solar with a lazy grin on his face. A tall man with a crown of bright white hair, he had big lips, a big nose, and a big voice. He stepped into the chamber and put his hand on Robin's shoulder as the man tried to rise.

"Nay, my friend, stay seated," he said. "Do not get up for me. I came to offer my condolences and see how you are faring, but by the look of you, I can guess. I can see how heartbroken you are."

He sat opposite Robin, who stared at him dumbly. "Over what?"

"The loss of your daughter's betrothed, of course."

Still quite drunk, Robin took several moments to realize what he was talking about. "You mean the de Lohr boy?" he said. "That loss?"

"Aye," Riggs said. "The de Lohr lad. I have just heard of his passing."

"How?"

"Because the escort taking him from Selbourne to Lioncross passed through Cirencester a few days ago," he said. "The road they used passed right through my lands. Knowing he was to be your daughter's husband, I loaned them an escort to the boundaries of my property. I thought you would want that."

Robin just looked at him, blankly, before grabbing the pitcher on the table. He realized this was a social visit, but not one he particularly wanted to speak of.

"The death of the de Lohr lad does not have me heartbroken," he said as he poured himself more drink. "But I do wish he'd not gotten himself killed. His foolishness has forced me to deal with his father, a contemptible bastard if there ever was one. I hate him."

Riggs frowned. "Roi de Lohr?" he said. "But I thought he was your dear friend."

"He is not my dear friend," Robin announced firmly. "I hate the man. I'm sorry you have wasted your time coming here to give me your condolences. They are unnecessary. One less de Lohr in the world does not trouble me."

It was a rather harsh thing to say, but it lent itself toward the purpose of Riggs' visit. He'd come for a reason, and it wasn't to convey only his condolences.

He had quite a different reason in mind.

Riggs and Robin had been neighbors for many years, as the southernmost part of Robin's land bordered the northernmost part of Riggs'. It was just a tiny border, but one nonetheless. Their families had long been allied, though more of just a pleasant association than a strong alliance.

But that was about to change, if Riggs had anything to say about it.

"It is a large and powerful family you speak of," he said, reaching for the pitcher himself and looking around for a clean cup. "I remember there was a time when you told me how much you needed to be a good friend of Roi de Lohr because there was something you wanted from him."

"That was true, then."

"It was something you denied me."

Robin stopped toying with his cup and looked at him. "Ah," he said, the light of understanding coming to his eyes. "I see now. You came here because you thought my daughter no longer has a betrothed."

Riggs smiled as he poured himself some wine in the only cup he could find. "You are not as drunk as you look," he said. "With the de Lohr lad gone, your daughter is without a marriage contract. Let us be frank—a lady as lovely and wealthy as Lady Diara will not remain unattached for long. I came to see if you would reconsider a marriage between your daughter and my son."

Robin almost said no. He almost threw his cup of wine in Riggs' face and ordered him to leave. Riggs' visit had less to do with actually extending his sympathies than it did with pressing his own agenda. But something stopped Robin from tossing the man out on his arse. Somehow, he could feel his control coming back. He liked it when he could command and manipulate men, and if Riggs wanted something badly enough, he'd do whatever he was told.

"I do not know," he said as he carefully regarded Riggs. "Tell me what qualities your son has that I should consider."

Riggs shrugged. "He will inherit the Honor of Cirencester," he said simply. "He will inherit Totterdown Castle and everything my father and I looted in France when we were fighting wars for Henry. His great-grandfather on his mother's side was the Duke of Burgundy, for God's sake. Mayhap de Lohr has ties and wealth and property, but I have that, too, plus royal blood. Flavian has more elite blood flowing through his veins than any de Lohr can claim. Will you still deny him?"

Robin was struggling to push away the drunkenness and focus on what Riggs was saying. But even he knew, at this point, it was a lost cause. He waved his hand at Riggs in a careless gesture.

"If it were within my power to agree, I would," he said. "But it is not. Though the de Lohr son may be dead, his widowed father has stepped in to replace him. Diara is still betrothed, only now it is to Roi de Lohr himself."

Riggs' eyes widened. "She is?" he said with surprise. "How did that come about?"

"Me!" Robin shouted, smacking himself on the chest. "It was my fault. I did this. When I received word of Beckett's death, I rode to Lioncross Abbey and demanded another de Lohr husband for my daughter. It was Roi who agreed to replace his son."

Riggs was greatly disappointed. "I see," he said. "Then there is no hope?"

Robin snorted. "No hope unless Roi has an accident like his son did."

For a moment, they simply sat there, wallowing in disappointment, until Riggs spoke softly.

"That is always a possibility."

"What is?"

"An accident."

Robin, suddenly, was listening when he realized what Riggs was saying. He looked at the man in shock before leaning toward him in a curious but restrained manner. "Life is full of possibilities," he said, his eyes glittering. "Do you mean what I think you mean?"

Riggs shrugged. "I simply said that an accident was possible."

"Do you have any ideas, then?"

"Not unless you promise me that my son will marry your daughter."

Robin let his gaze linger on him for a moment, mulling over the mere suggestion. It hadn't even crossed his mind that there was a possibility of ridding himself of Roi, but having a partner in crime—someone with the same goals—then, indeed, there might be every possibility. More than that, there might be a real chance. Perhaps he'd wanted a de Lohr husband and had bullied himself into a corner because of it, but he was not a man to sit around and lick his wounds. Wounds would heal.

But death would be permanent.

Perhaps he didn't want to be allied with the House of de Lohr after all.

"Given the change in circumstances, that is a promise I would be willing to make," he said, sitting back and collecting his cup again. "But to arrange such an event—if it could even be done—would be very difficult. Roi is a seasoned knight in the prime of his career. It would not be a simple thing to be rid of him."

Riggs shook his head. "Not by any common method," he agreed. "But for the sake of argument, let us think about the perfect situation for such a man. He is a knight. He fights in the heat of battle. Didn't you say that you spent two years in France with him?"

Robin nodded. "Two very long years," he said. "But Roi was always the first man into battle. If there was fighting going on, he was in the middle of it. He fights with the power of his father and grandfather. He is a great knight."

"Indeed," Riggs agreed. "He would not be where he is today if he was a weak man. But all men do have weaknesses. Mayhap they have a blind spot, or they become too distracted in a fight. It happens."

Robin snorted. "Not with Roi."

"You know this for certain?"

"I do."

Riggs simply nodded, mulling over an idea that was slowly coming to him. He saw something he wanted in the form of Lady Diara. The only obstacle between her and his desires was, in fact, Roi de Lohr. He knew the man, distantly, but they didn't travel in the same circles, mostly because Cirencester, an old title, had once been a distinguished family but now was mostly associated with thieves and cheats. Wealthy thieves and cheats, but thieves and cheats nonetheless. Their army wasn't particularly large, either. Riggs didn't do much with his army other than use it to protect his properties and occasionally hire it out. He'd been known to take money from the French for the use of his men.

But the opportunity to be allied with Cheltenham was one he'd long coveted.

"I'm simply thinking aloud, so do not take any of this to heart, but if I were a man who wanted to be rid of someone like Roi de Lohr, then I might, mayhap, speak to an ally with similar ambitions," he said. "Let's say it's me. Knowing that de Lohr would come to your aid should you need his sword, I would arrange for someone like me to attack your property. Not a real attack, but enough to draw de Lohr into the fight because if he is married to your daughter, then it is his duty to fight for you."

Robin was back to listening closely, practically hanging on Riggs' every word. "Aye," he agreed. "And where should such an attack take place?"

Riggs was very casual about it. "Your property border and mine end near the village of Colesborne," he said. "To me, that might be the perfect—and most reasonable—place to raid. In fact, the area has been in dispute between our families for years. What could be more natural than a skirmish there?"

Robin shook his head. "I do not dispute it," he said. "It is mine. But let us say we choose that location. What then?"

Riggs shrugged. "At some point, you would send de Lohr to Colesborne and make sure he was either unprotected or alone, or both," he said. "It would be a simple thing for your ally to ambush de Lohr and make sure he was quite dead. Men die in battle all the time. Once he is dead, the ally would simply pack up and go home, leaving you with a widowed daughter who would bring de Lohr wealth and property with her to a new marriage. But, as I said, I'm simply thinking aloud. It must be the wine talking."

He chuckled, taking a big swallow of wine, when they both knew he wasn't drunk enough to concoct such a wine-nightmare story like that. What he'd suggested had been very calculated.

He knew exactly what he was saying.

"That is a fine story," Robin said, grinning. "One I like very much. Let de Lohr marry her, then. I do not care. But it would be a fine thing for you to send your army to Colesborne sometime very soon. Roi will surely come to defend my lands, and then my daughter shall marry your son by the autumn. Will he wait that long?"

Riggs' smile was nothing short of pure evil. "He will wait as long as it takes," he said. "But the sooner, the better. I should like your daughter to start providing me with grandsons to carry on the Fairford name."

"She would be honored."

Riggs lifted his cup to salute their scheme, causing Robin to loosen up quite a bit. He'd been drunk and distressed when the man arrived, but now… now, he was far more at ease. Happy, even. Control was returning to him, and that was all that mattered. Roi used to be a friend, but he'd outlived his usefulness when he stopped bending to Robin's will. Now, the man was on borrowed time.

The loss of another de Lohr was in Robin's future.

And Diara's.