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Tuck groaned then drew back slowly.
“You have to go,” I said, half hoping he would say no.
He nodded reluctantly. “But I’ll be back. I swear I will.”
I smiled. “See you soon, Friar Tuck.” Then I tapped him on the lips. “Or rather, see you soon, my good knight.”
Never had I seen a man look that pleased with himself. You really think so? his shining eyes asked.
I knew so.
“See you soon, fair maiden,” he promised, then disappeared into the night.
Chapter Eight
TUCK
I didn’t sleep much that night, partly from lack of time, but also due to fretting. Marian was in danger, and the clock was ticking. Her decision to remain locked up was a bold — no, a crazy one — but she was her own boss. I was just the knight — er, friar — tasked with protecting her.
Helping her, my lion growled in exasperation.
She’d insisted she could protect herself, and I respected that. But I sure wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. At morning prayers, my mind spun with plans to keep as close an eye on her as possible.
So when the abbot called me in for the second time in twelve hours, I approached his office with trepidation. Was he was onto me and Marian? What if he insisted on expelling me from the abbey?
Ironic, really, that my deepest wish — leaving the clergy — had become my worst nightmare. I was the only one with the means to spring Marian from the library.
You and Father Benedict, my lion growled.
It took everything I had not to give him the evil eye as I passed him on the way into the abbot’s office. I couldn’t let on that I knew about Marian, and the fact that he hadn’t taken the key outside the library’s rear door suggested he didn’t know about me.
“Good morning,” I murmured to the abbot.
“Good morning,” he grumbled, clearly displeased. He held up a piece of parchment. “You’ve been summoned to Nottingham.”
I nearly choked, thinking of Lady Thornton. Was she somehow in on Prince John’s plot? But if so, what did it have to do with me?
“By whom?” I sputtered.
“The sheriff.” He tapped the scrolled message lying on his desk. “You’re to be interviewed about that unfortunate incident two months ago.”
Incident?
I scratched my chin. Which incidents did the abbot know about and which didn’t he? It was hard to keep track.
“The kidnapping,” he explained.
Oh, that incident. It was all I could do not to laugh. That was like accusing a thief of stealing a chicken, rather than the crown jewels he’d made off with a week earlier.
Robynne had helped arrange that “kidnapping” — her way of enlisting my help in sneaking a treasure trove from Nottingham to Sherwood Forest…the very treasure Marian had sent with Willa for safekeeping.
That was the amazing part — so many unconnected incidents coming together. The question was, where was it all leading?
I did my best to look grim. “Couldn’t the sheriff come here?” I put a hand on my chest. “I’m still a little traumatized by it all.”
His reply was a single, snippy, “No.”
I had little choice but to comply, though I did help myself to Malachi, the abbey’s best horse, for the trip. The sooner I was back from Nottingham, the better.
