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Twilly was already waiting, fortunately, and she quickly gave him the missive, along with her quiet, terse instruction to deliver it into the queen’s hands only. There wasn’t much of substance to report yet, but Marian wouldn’t risk the security of future missives through carelessness. Satisfied that he understood the importance of discretion, she pressed a coin into his palm and turned to start back into the keep.

Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw Will standing there.

Praise God, he wasn’t close enough to have heard anything she’d said, and he wasn’t even looking in her direction . . . until now. As if her sighting him had been an invisible string that pulled at him, he turned and their eyes met.

Marian kept her face blank as she continued on her path and hoped that Twilly had gone on his way in a different direction before Will noticed that they’d been in the same vicinity. He would likely recognize one of the queen’s messengers, and was smart enough to wonder at her conversing with him.

She nodded to Will and would have walked past if he had not moved into her path.

“Marian,” he said. He looked at her, then glanced in the direction of the apple tree . . . where Twilly had been standing.

“Yes?” She couldn’t look directly up at him, for he was too tall and the sun too bright.

“Have you seen Alys of Wentworth since we returned this morning?” As he spoke, he moved slightly toward her into the shadow of the small herbary.

This allowed her to step out of the sun and look up at him, her fingers brushing against the rough wooden wall. “Nay,” she answered, recognizing something like concern in his face. “I’ve not seen her since we were separated during the hunt.”

“Her mount has returned, limping, and without a shoe,” Will told her grimly. “It appears she herself has not been seen by anyone since the hunt. I’m off to search the wood.”

He turned away, but Marian grabbed at his sleeve. Will’s muscles tensed beneath her fingers, and he turned back. “What is it?”

“Did you find those other bandits?” Marian asked, alarmed to hear that Alys might have been taken by the very men who’d nearly attacked her.

“Some. They’re belowstairs in the dungeon until I can deal with them. The hands of one of them were a bloody mess.”

Marian’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, aye . . . my arrow. I stabbed at him when he dared try and lift me off my saddle.”

“So he said. I do not think they’ll heal, and ’tis almost punishment enough for him, I trow. His fingers will be crippled forever, if they do not need to be cut off.”

Marian felt a momentary stab of conscience, but then pushed it away. The man had meant to do far worse to her.

“I’ve left three of my men to watch their camp for when the others return,” Will replied. “But if you will release me, I’ll be off to begin the search anew.” He looked down at her hand on his arm as if it were a particularly ugly spider.

Just as she released him, a shout from the bailey entrance drew her attention. Will pulled away, heading toward the sound of the turmoil. Marian followed, watching his tall figure navigate quickly through the crush of hounds, rushing men-at-arms, busy serfs, and playing children.

By the time she reached the cluster of people, she understood that Alys had returned, presumably uninjured, and on foot. When she caught sight of Marian, her friend pushed away from Will and the other men-at-arms who’d met her at the gate.

“I am unhurt,” she said in a tone that implied it wasn’t the first time she’d made such a statement and that she was weary of doing so. “My horse threw a shoe and I was a bit lost in the wood until I found my way back. Now, there is Lady Marian. I am certain she will see that I’m taken safely to the chamber where I can change my clothing.”

Marian needed no further suggestion. She moved forward and linked arms with Alys, drawing her away toward the keep.

After ensuring that her friend was indeed unscathed from her experience wandering about in the forest, Marian left Alys to the other ladies. She walked back out into the bailey, glad to find herself out of the smoky, dark keep.

The herb garden was large enough to offer wandering paths that would keep her occupied for a time. She brushed past the silvery sage and lavender leaves, the brilliant orange calendula growing in low clusters, the dark blue green woad, basil, thyme, and others. As her feet wandered, so did her mind, and Marian couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about the night ahead. Would John invite her and Will to his chambers again? What would happen this night?

Though the sun burned warm, Marian shivered, remembering the knowing lift of Will’s hands at her breasts, the feel of his mouth on the tender skin of her neck. That tingling, unsettled feeling returned to her stomach and she drew in deep breaths scented with rosemary and lily.