His most energetic activity had been avoiding the lures of wellborn local maidens. The two eligible Andrevilles had been much in demand at winter social gatherings. While Giles had the title and the superior fortune, it was generally assumed that he was unlikely to remarry, so more feminine wiles had been exercised on Lord Robert. Besides his blond good looks, mysterious past, and more than adequate assets, the chance that he would inherit the title had added to his appeal.

He sighed and hitched his bag of provisions over his right shoulder. He would not have objected to falling madly in love, but it was impossible to imagine manying one of the vapid innocents he had met in the great houses of Yorkshire. He had not known Maggie when she was a proper young lady, but even at seventeen she would not have been so bland.

The day was warm, and it was pleasant to reach the shady forest. Robin had worn old clothing, so he was unconcerned about the snagging undergrowth as he explored the winding paths made by deer and other wildlife.

The sun was high when he reached a little clearing by the stream that wandered through the heart of the forest He smiled at the sight of the fairy ring of mushrooms. The gardener had said that a ring this large must be centuries old. As a child, Robin had thought of the spot as magical. He would lie under the tree, dream of the world beyond Wolverhampton, and hope that a fairy might call. Perhaps he would find magic here again.

He set down his bag and stretched out on the grass in the shade between a tree and a bush. Arms crossed beneath his head, he gazed idly at the branches above.

It was a mistake to let his mind become empty, for soon a dark thread of despair began winding through. Grimly he fought it off. It was possible to chase the demons away in the daylight, though he knew from experience that they would return as nightmares. Each spell was worse than the one before, and sometimes he feared that it was only a matter of time before he fell over the edge of sanity.