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“I had milk, and Allyn wasn’t well. Every day I feared he wouldn’t wake from his sleep. I kept remembering how she’d suffered in the birth, and I couldn’t condemn Parkin when death hovered so close to my own child.” She glanced up at him. He’d stopped pacing and just gazed at her now. “That’s what would have happened if I’d given him to one of the other women to nurse.”

“Is Parkin the only bastard that Robin has?”

She laughed. “Heavens, nay. He scattered his seed everywhere, like a farmer standing in the wind. But as far as I know, all their mothers live still.”

“Do the lads know? Does Parkin—”

“Of course. Did you think anyone who lived in Jagger Castle would keep that quiet?” Hugh’s amazement had faded, and she explained as much as she could as quickly as she could. “That’s why Parkin demands attention, and why Allyn lets him. The busybodies have told Parkin he’s not truly mine, and he worries. Allyn is more secure, and he loves his brother.”

“You treat them alike so they won’t grow to hate each other like those nuns. Like Lady Blanche and her sister Adda.” Hugh swiped his damp hair off his forehead. “No wonder your trust is a flimsy thing.”

“I trust you,” she answered immediately. “Am I not listening to your counsel about my sons?”

He sat back down, facing her once more. “Aye, you trust me with your sons, but not with yourself.”

Did she? Was that true? What kind of mother would trust a man with the well-being of her sons but not with her own happiness? Or did she trust him, and was her defensiveness nothing but a frail bulwark that she longed for him to breach?

“You could tell me anything, Edlyn, and I would understand.”

He sounded strangely compelling, as if he knew her secrets.

He whispered, “What must I do to prove I will never abuse your love when you give it to me?”

“I…you…” She glanced around, seeking escape.

He glanced around, too, and saw a dozen faces peering at them. “If you don’t have anything to do, I’ll give you something to do!” he roared, sounding so much like Sir David of Radcliffe, Edlyn broke down and giggled. Disgusted, he said, “They’ve done it, now, haven’t they? They’ve distracted you.”

Neda was scolding, the servants were fleeing, and Edlyn tried to pretend she didn’t know that he wanted a task to perform, a way to make her trust him. He didn’t realize he’d shown strength and honor, which she valued above all things. Faintly, she said, “Our sons. We need to settle our sons.”

He sighed but addressed the topic as she desired. “I have influence among the nobles, ’tis true. But more than that, I have friends. I’ve saved men’s lives and been saved by them. I’ve drunk with barons and dukes and earls. I’ve accepted their hospitality, and I’ve given them mine. That is one of the reasons the prince remembered me when Roxford Castle was free for the claiming. My friends in court reminded him I was deserving.” He indicated the head table where Wynkyn filled the goblets and inspected the trenchers. “My page is the earl of Covney’s son, given to me to foster. If nothing else, I can give Parkin to Covney and know he’ll be properly raised, and Allyn will not be the first traitor’s son to go forth and make a name for himself.” He studied Edlyn. “Does that satisfy you?”

Satisfy her? Nay, it didn’t satisfy her. Her head buzzed when she thought of it, and the blood drained from her face. She’d sworn this would never happen. She didn’t want her boys to become knights, to break her heart when they were carried home on boards.

Yet Neda, all unknowing, had had a reply for that. If they were good monks, they would eventually be lost to Edlyn in their devotion to God. And how could she give them to God and then pray they fail in that devotion?

“Aye.” She said it before she could change her mind. “That is acceptable to me.”

As she spoke, her eyes cleared and she saw the big smile Hugh gave her. “That’s my lady!” He slapped her on the shoulder just as he would one of his knights, then grabbed her before she could topple. “Edlyn! I beg your pardon.”

She held her aching arm and began to laugh.

“You’re not hurt?”

She shook her head. “Not at all, but I see why you understand the lads’ minds so well. You’re nothing more than an overgrown lad yourself.”

“Well.” He smiled at her meaningfully. “Sometimes.” Before she could reply to that, he turned her, his hands on her arms. “Here are our sons to apologize for causing you grief.”

Allyn and Parkin, with that prompting, could scarcely fail in their duty. Edlyn studied them as they stood before her, dry and clean, stammering their expressions of regret. They were both so much like Robin, and that frightened her. But with Hugh as an example, they could learn consistency, integrity, and all the virtues of knighthood. Relaxing, she knew she had done the right thing.

“I have decided…” She stopped, then caught one of Allyn’s hands and one of Parkin’s hands. “We have decided both of you should train for the knighthood. Would you both like that?”

Parkin came right up off the floor. “Train now? With a sword? Can I have armor? When do we start?”

Allyn, more quiet but with his face shining like a newly polished stone, repeated, “Oh, Mama. Oh, Mama!”

“If they are to be knights,” Hugh said, “they first must be pages.” He snapped his fingers, and Wynkyn, his arm still in a sling, and Dewey, large and sternlooking, materialized behind the boys. “Take them and train them to properly serve the table.”

“The table?” Parkin couldn’t have looked more horrified. “Why do we have to serve the table?”