An Uncertain Choice(27)

Before I could continue, something suddenly flew by in my side vision. A sharp whistling noise rent the air, followed by a thud and a pained cry from Sir Collin. I turned to find him fallen onto his back against the blanket with an arrow sticking from his shoulder.

Sir Collin’s face first rounded with surprise and then crumpled with agony.

The sight was so unexpected and disturbing, I couldn’t contain the scream that slipped from my lips. An arrowhead had embedded into his body — ?altogether too close to his heart. Blood had already started to flow out of the puncture and seep into his fine linen shirt, staining the area around the shaft a deep crimson.

Sir Collin gasped as if breathing his last breath and grabbed at the shaft.

The spot of blood on his shirt widened, and I cried out. “Help! Please help! Sir Collin has been shot!”

Already, I could hear the commotion and yells of the others reacting to my previous scream. Urgency prodded me to my knees next to him. I grasped one of his hands and found it slick and sticky with blood. At a loss for words, I whispered the beginning of the Lord’s Prayer. “Our Father in heaven . . .”


Sir Collin’s green eyes dulled with pain and yet shone with apology. “You’ll have to forgive me, my lady. I’d hoped to provide you with excitement and adventure today. But I didn’t quite plan to have it happen this way.”

“Oh, sir,” I whispered, holding his hand. His eyes closed and his face tightened with obvious pain.

The duke was the first to arrive and kneel next to Sir Collin, breathless. The lines in his regal face grooved much deeper than usual as he gently touched the arrow. When his fingers probed the point where it had entered Sir Collin’s flesh, the young knight bit back a groan.

I held my breath, praying the shot wasn’t fatal.

The duke then raised his worried eyes to me. “Are you hurt, dear one?”

I shook my head. “I’m untouched, your Grace. But Sir Collin . . .?” Fear clogged my throat, preventing me from asking if he’d live.

The duke’s expression turned grave. “’Twould appear that someone has murder on their mind.”





Chapter

10




“What have you discovered, your Grace?” I asked from the chair my servants had placed next to the large canopied bed where Sir Collin reclined against mounds of goosefeather pillows.

“My men have scoured the forestlands for clues.” The duke stood at the foot of the bed, his faced lined with weariness. He was dusty and grimy, and dressed in his hauberk and surcoat, proof he’d likely slept little if at all over the past several days. “We still have no trace of the man who might be responsible for the attempted murder.”

Sir Collin’s normally tan face was pale, but thankfully, after three days abed, the liveliness had returned to his eyes. Whatever culprit had thought to take the knight’s life was apparently not an expert bowman. He’d missed Sir Collin’s heart by several inches.

I shuddered again at the thought of how close Sir Collin had come to dying. Not only had the arrow come too close to vital organs, but he’d also lost a great deal of blood during the ordeal.

The gloomy thoughts only added to the grayness of the day. Even with the open window, the clouds that covered the sky had shifted inside and filled the spacious guest chamber I’d given to the duke.

“Perhaps we need to question some of the known criminals.” Abbot Michael Francis sat in a chair on the other side of the large bed. The flicker of light from the candle on the bedstead cast strange shadows across his thin face. I was grateful he’d been willing to act as a chaperone every time I came to sit with Sir Collin — ?which had been nearly constant since we’d brought him back from the fated picnic.

The sheriff stepped out of the shadows, his features creased in a scowl. “With a little persuasion, I’d sure enough glean some information that would lead us to the culprit.”

“No, sheriff.” I spoke quickly, my body tightening at the implications of his words. “We cannot arrest men on suspicion alone. We must have some proof first.”

“We have proof in their character.” The sheriff’s voice was as sharp as the arrowhead the physician had dug out of Sir Collin. While I appreciated that the sheriff was helping with the investigation, I certainly couldn’t condone arresting criminals based on character alone.

What could I tell the sheriff that wouldn’t stir more antagonism between us? My muscles tightened, and even though I knew I should handle this matter on my own, I couldn’t keep from looking at the abbot.

His hands were folded in his lap and hidden in his sleeves. His face had a pinched quality I knew came from his worry over my safety. He’d been the first to mention what might have happened had the arrow missed Sir Collin and hit me instead.

I wanted to ask him for his advice, but I had the sudden picture of Sir Derrick watching me with disapproval, his steel eyes challenging me to grow up. With a deep breath, I shifted my attention back to the sheriff. “I insist we have more physical proof before making arrests —?”

“We know they’ve already given themselves over to the devil,” the sheriff said, “and usually that’s all the proof we need.”

The duke wiped a hand across his brow. “We’ll continue to make inquiries. Sir Derrick and Sir Bennet are still investigating. I’m sure, with time and due course, we shall find the guilty one.”