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Sybil lifted her head, as if startled, and Robin could have cursed himself, but when he looked into those blue eyes, wide and teary, his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth. A stray curl had popped free of her wimple, and he saw that it was red, a lively color fit for this woman. Entranced, Robin lifted his fingers to tuck it back into place, but that brought his thumb in contact with the softness of her skin, and he stroked the delicate curve of her cheek in wonder.
He had to taste her. The urge came over him so violently that Robin shuddered with the force of it. He wanted to, needed to kiss her, right here, right now. He felt as if his future, his very life, depended on it. And Sybil gave no demur. Indeed, she stared up silently, her luscious lips parted in a tempting pose, just as though she were as enraptured as he.
Desire rose like a tide, thrumming through his blood, and for long moments, Robin struggled vainly against it, grasping at the wits that seemed to have deserted him. Try though he might to resist, he was weakening fast, and well he might have given in, had it not been for the sound of a knock upon the door jolting him into awareness of his surroundings.
Suddenly, Robin realized that he was embracing the One, and he swallowed in panic even as Sybil gasped, as if she, too, were flustered, or even horrified. They broke apart, backing from each other, and just in time, for they had barely separated when the door opened. It was the abbess who entered, and Robin eyed the good woman with no little alarm. Then, finding the bench against the back of his legs, he sat down hard, while a flush that had nothing to do with his still-excited body rose in his cheeks.
Luckily, the unsuspecting abbess had her head bent, and did not seem to be aware of the undercurrents around her. Of course, the poor woman was mourning in addition to performing the duties of her office, and Robin immediately felt guilty for his misbehavior in her holy house, though he hadn’t really done anything. Yet.
“Has all of the order been here, Sybil?” she asked, turning to the novice. Robin’s gaze followed, and he saw that Sybil appeared strained, her hands clasped before her and her face pale and tearstained. At the sight, Robin felt even more the cur, as if he had failed her somehow, though he knew he had given her comfort as best he could. It was what had nearly happened afterward that bothered him, both the wanting and the wishing her well away, a perverse combination, to be sure.
“And have you learned anything?” the abbess asked, swinging her gaze to Robin. He stared at her stupidly, the only lessons he could recall were those in desire and restraint, and how the blue of Sybil’s eyes remained undimmed by weeping.
She appeared to be recovering more swiftly, however. “Reverend Abbess,” she said, drawing the nun’s attention back to herself, an action for which Robin was inordinately grateful. “Isn’t it true that Maud has long thought herself your closest assistant, perhaps even your favorite?”
The question brought Robin back to his senses quickly enough, for he could see where she was going with that line of inquiry, and he rolled his eyes in frustration. As much as he disliked old Maud, he couldn’t quite picture her killing off her rivals. Why bother when she could torture them indefinitely with her slurs?
The abbess smiled gently. “Maud is very eager, but I can hardly appreciate one of my flock more than another.”
Robin recognized a diplomatically worded answer when he heard it, but Sybil would not be placated. Obviously, her feud with Maud was a long-standing one. “But suppose that someone, believing herself to be in a coveted position, wielded power over others of the order, going so far as to sabotage those who stood in her way?”
The abbess’s expression reflected her concern. “Surely, you are not suggesting that one of our own murdered Elisa?” she asked.
Robin rose to his feet. “We are simply exploring all possibilities, Reverend Abbess,” he explained. “And although we might deem it unlikely, we must remember that not all nuns are as devoted as you are. Although we might wish otherwise, they are afflicted with the same jealousies and passions as laywomen,” he said, with a sidelong glance toward a certain passionate novice.
The abbess frowned, obviously dismayed by his words, but Robin persisted. “Think carefully, and if you can remember any quarrels or suspicious incidents occurring among the residents here, please let me know,” he said.
“I will,” the abbess promised, though she appeared none too pleased by the prospect.
“We appreciate your cooperation,” Robin said to smooth things over. “I would also ask you if you have noticed any strangers about, anyone Elisa would have come in contact with?”
The abbess paused thoughtfully before answering. “I have met with the usual clerics and freemen and travelers.” She shook her head, as if frustrated. “I fear that we have fallen into lax habits here. The nuns are often asked to make trips to the village and conduct business with those in the area. As I’m sure you realize, although we are a small order, the home farm requires much organization and employs many of the local people.”
“Are there any who might hold a grudge against the nuns or Elisa in particular? Was there someone that she might have seen more of than was usual?” Robin asked, ignoring the low hiss of Sybil’s indrawn breath. But the abbess could only shake her head, uncomprehending of such violence or any lapses on the part of her flock.
Robin spoke gently, hiding his frustration, but he had hoped that the abbess might be able to give him a hint, at least, as to the identity of the killer. So far, none but Maud would even admit that Elisa had had a relationship with a man, and all she could do was refer him to Sybil.
Robin’s eyes narrowed. He had thought Maud’s bitter words a result of the rivalry between them, but he had heard more than once that Sybil and Elisa had been close, had seen it himself, as evidenced by her wild display of grief. And now he glared at the One with new suspicion. All along, he had suffered her presence, allowed her to stifle his questions, to keep the name of her dear departed friend from being sullied, and all along, she probably knew more about the death than anyone.
Biting back a scowl, Robin turned his attention once more to the abbess, but it soon became clear that she could shed no further light upon the murder. Before dismissing her entirely, he asked if he might meet with the servants and people who worked on the lands owned by the nu
First, he had a certain novice to question.
Sybil watched the abbess preparing to leave and had to bite her tongue to stop herself from begging the nun to stay. And when the abbess actually stepped out the door, Sybil felt like ru
He had a dimple.
It was tucked into his left cheek, and appeared when he smiled just so, Sybil remembered with a kind of stu
She wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that she had stared up at him like a besotted ni