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“I’d make an even better knight.” He stretched to his full height, making it awfully convincing.
“So what are you doing here?”
“You know…third son and all that.”
Ah. Right. In the tradition of landed gentry, the first son inherited the family’s title, land, and wealth. The second son was expected to become a knight and bring glory to the family name through brave deeds. Unlucky number three was destined for life in a monastery. If I’d had brothers instead of being an only child, the same would have applied to my family.
Then he cocked his head. “So, that’s my excuse. What are you doing here?”
“Just a visitor in search of spiritual guidance.”
He cackled. “Well, good luck. I’ve been here six months and haven’t found any.”
“Then maybe that’s not what you’re looking for.”
He took a long, quiet minute to digest that, then let out a soft, defeated sigh. “Tell that to the abbot.”
Briefly, he drifted into sorrow and self-pity. But that obviously wasn’t in his character, because he bounced right back to upbeat and curious. His eyes roved the room, taking in the daybed I’d been slumbering on to the few belongings I’d brought, so out of place in the library.
“The abbey has a guest room. And yet you’re up here.”
“I like reading.”
A tiny smile played over his lips. “I suppose you must. And needlepoint.” He pointed to the project I’d left beside the bed.
“She is clothed…” He started reading in the dim light, then glanced up, waggling his eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes. That was as far as I’d gotten. “She is clothed with strength and dignity,” I finished, exasperated.
He grinned. “And a hell of a dagger.”
“Not just one, so watch it.”
In truth, the needlepoint was a decoy, making people believe I was a helpless damsel.
Ha. Let them believe, an inner voice jeered.
I shushed that hidden side of myself and gestured to the door with my dagger. “Time for you to go, Mister Tuck.”
He seemed to rejoice in the Mister part. Maybe the same way I rejoiced when people left out Maid before my name. Marian suited me so much better than that haughty, virginal Maid Marian.
Tuck nodded. “I suppose it is. But I really need to get those sketches first.”
“Right. For your friend.” I emphasized the last word.
He went pink. It suited him.
“I swear they’re not mine.”
“And they’re for entertainment, I assume? Or are you going to try to convince me they’re educational?”
He broke into a broad smile. “Maybe a little entertaining. But mostly, I’m here to keep a friend out of trouble.”
Short, simple words, but somehow, they spoke volumes. He might believe in outdated notions about frail, helpless women, but his heart was in the right place when it came to helping others. So maybe being a monk suited him.
A second later, I stifled a laugh. No. Knight was definitely more fitting.
I motioned to a large table cluttered with papers. “Be my guest.”
