Free The Thorne Maze by Karen Harper Page A

destiny, which I am certain will be on the rise.”
    “Meaning someday you will not rip to shreds my patent for the peerage as you did before everyone when you were—were angry? Someday you will actually give me the earldom you have promised?”
    “Yes, Robert Dudley, yes! I had to be certain I could trust your loyalty to me, even if I asked you to wait—to sacrifice or take on some task that seems dangerous or difficult.”
    “Such as what now?” he demanded. He closed the stall door and leaned against it with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.
    “We read each other well yet, do we not? The earldom of Leicester will yet be yours, for I would raise you high.”
    “My queen!” he cried and went down on one knee in the straw, head bent.
    “Do not thank me overmuch. And put from your mind that we shall wed, my lord. That is not why I will create you earl when we return to London this autumn, though I do have a queen in mind for you.”
    His expression looked both ravaged and raptured when he raised his face. As ever, she could see his mind working to catch up to hers. “You don’t mean to offer me to Mary of Scots?” he cried, exploding to his feet. “Hell’s gates, I know you’ve wanted to push her toward someone you can trust, but she’d never have me.”
    “She will if I find a way to convince her, coerce her.”
    “Not with your Master of the Horse whom she will see as your cast-off, former favorite.”
    “I must find a way, my lord. The last thing I need is the Stewarts dangling Lord Darnley before her with his Tudor ties and noble Scottish blood. I cannot abide or allow an alliance between my cousin Margaret and Mary of Scots, damn them, connivers both.”
    “But—you cannot ask that of me, not when I will always love you, and I know you would never command me to—”
    “Shh,” she said and pressed her gloved fingers to his lips. “We will discuss it privily later. Besides, when has love ever had a thing to do with royalty and realms?”
    Fighting tears, she turned slowly, sadly away, and he hurried to keep up. They walked from the stables into the blazing afternoon sun. He’d fallen silent, and she ached to think that she had broached the subject with him—or that she would ever actually send him away, and to the woman she feared and detested more than any other.
    For, despite their problems, Elizabeth had always felt better with Robin around. And to think that Cecil had said once Robert Dudley was just waiting for a chance to rattle her so that she would realize she loved and needed him—even as a husband, a king.
    She nearly lurched to a stop, and, thinking she had stumbled, Robin’s hand shot out to steady her elbow. Surely, she thought, Robin could not have been the one who laid hands on her in the maze. No, as she had reasoned out before, his future hung on her good will. Besides, the foaling gave him an alibi. Unless after that, while he was supposedly changing his clothes, as Jenks had mentioned, he’d waited in the hedges for her. Thinking just to shake her up, he’d not known his own strength. He’d meant to rescue her himself before Bettina came charging in …
    She pulled free of his touch. Her attacker had been at least partly victorious if he could make her believe even her closest friends could be guilty. She shoved down another stab of panic when she recalled Mary Sidney had been abroad last night. Of course, her dear friend wanted only the best for her brother, so did that entail forcing her into Robin’s arms? Or worse?
    No, the queen told herself, Mary had no motive for harming her sovereign and friend. Surely, surely she could not blame Elizabeth for the fact that she had caught the pox from nursing her queen. Friendship overcame such trials and tragedies, didn’t it?
    “Devil take it,” Robin muttered, startling her again, “but would you look at that!”
    “What’s wrong with that horse?” she asked, following his gaze. Around the far side of the stable