Lady Thief: A Scarlet Novel (11 page)

Like a cloud, the prince blocked my view of her again.

“And she loves nothing more than a well-told story. She encourages such amongst the royal court. Courtly loves are always her favorites.”

“The love me and Rob have ain’t so courtly,” I told him.

He laughed. “God will judge you, not I,” he said. “But I would love to see him again. We knew each other well when we were boys.”

Perhaps he were true, and he loved Rob, but it were equal as likely that he weren’t, and this were some trick to find Rob—another wolf in the royal court. “I’ll speak of it when I see him, your Grace, but as he’s a bit of an outlaw he ain’t so easy to find,” I told him.

“Thank you,” he said, patting my hand.

“What are you two whispering about?” Gisbourne asked, but his eyes were on our touching hands.

Winchester released me. “The lady was assuring me her bruises didn’t hurt overmuch,” he said. “I had inquired after her welfare.”

“Your gallantry is misplaced,” the prince fair shouted round a mouthful of food. “The lady isn’t some delicate flower in need of chivalry, but rather the firmness of her husband’s hand, Winchester.”

“Surely no woman should lack for chivalry, my son.”

The prince looked to his side and I reckoned it must have been Eleanor that had spoken.

“Hardly a woman at all, is she, though?” he said, and a bit of food spat out. Even the princess made a stuck-up little face at that. “She’s a thief. A criminal. An outlaw—hardly falls into the same category.”

“The gentility befitting her sex should be inalienable,” Winchester said.

“Don’t be silly,” the prince railed on. “I suppose you bow and scrape for peasant women too, Winchester?”

“My wife is no peasant,” Gisbourne said.

I frowned. Honestly, why bother piping up at all?

“No, of course not. She elevated you, in fact, didn’t she?” the prince crowed. My husband’s face went dark. Didn’t much think he liked to be reminded of that.

The far ends of the tables were still talking amongst themselves, but the closer bits were listening to the prince make sport of me. “But my prince,” someone spoke up. “Surely you must take deportment into account. If anything, dear Gisbourne
has lowered himself by his association. It’s like mating with a wild animal.”

“And what should we take into account about a person that so lowers the conversation during such a lovely meal, my lord de Lacy?” the queen said.

“If you can call de Lacy a lord, my lady queen,” said another man.

“Lord enough to see you on the field, Wendeval!” de Lacy roared back at him.

“My dear mother,” the princess said. “You must forgive him. We are all so confused about what to do with such a curiosity in our midst. We have all heard such stories about her, and now it seems she cannot even muster the words to speak. You must understand how this lends a certain air of savagery.”

“And yet the court’s ability to discuss a young lady as if she were an object seems savage also,” the queen said. “Most unbecoming, Isabel.”

I saw the princess flush at this rebuke, and Gisbourne looked to her.

“My dear mother,” she tried again, “I only meant to allay his thoughtless words. I, of course, have been eager to get to know the lady Leaford and am eager to hear what must be such … colorful stories. In her own words.”

“Ah, yes, you do love a good story, Mother. Come, Lady Marian, regale us,” the prince sneered at me.

Gisbourne’s vengeful gaze settled on me, and I licked my lips, pressing them tight together. I pushed up my chin and
clutched my hands tight. “I won’t perform for you,” I said, pushing the words careful through my teeth. God knows they weren’t natural on my mouth. “Perhaps you think me a fool, and who could blame you, as I sit here and listen to you call me a wild animal, a peasant. But I am wise enough to know when my words will only be met with derision and scorn.” I looked to the side a small bit. “So no, my prince, I would prefer not to regale you.”

My husband’s hand settled on mine, his fingers clawing in and cutting. I didn’t much dare to look at him, to breathe.

Out the edge of my eye I saw a pale face lean forward. Her blue eyes were bright, and there were a stark, harsh beauty to her face. Eleanor of Aquitaine inclined her head to me, and I flushed.

“Well said, my lady Marian,” she said.

Gisbourne released the bear clamp on my hand and I tucked my head down to the dowager queen.

When supper were over Gisbourne caught my elbow and held me in a fair wolf’s trap, dragging me out the hall, moving faster than the rest. It were a few twists and turns before we weren’t in a crowd, and he pushed me ahead.

“God damn you!” he growled. “You and your filthy, proud mouth! I will be made to pay for that, and by hell so will you.”

“I did what you asked!” I snapped. “I spoke well, didn’t I? I didn’t stab no one.”

He pushed me again and I tripped over the skirts, hitting the wall, and he slammed his whole body behind mine so it stole away my breath. I reached out to fight him, to grab my knife, but he trapped my arms. I struggled hard, fair panicked now, but it didn’t matter, didn’t make him move.

“I could take you, Marian,” he threatened low in my ear. He bit my neck and I shook and struggled more, trying to be
free of him. I ain’t never felt so trapped, so weak. He had my name, and every moment more he were taking my courage from me. He were taking everything I had from me. “I could bind you to me forever with the duty a husband is entitled to from a wife. I could give you a scar to match your wedding present. I could beat you until you remember your place, your promise.” His teeth sank into my ear and I cried. “Pick one.”

“Is this what your honor means to you?” I asked, but my voice weren’t much there and shaking besides. “Will this make you feel bigger in the eyes of the prince?” I drew a breath. “Or is it the princess you want to impress?”

His hand slammed the wall beside my head and he roared, “Pick one!”

Moving his hand meant he let go a bare shadow of a bit, but it were all I needed. I jerked out from him and pulled my knife. He stopped himself quick when he saw it, and his eyes went narrow.

Good. If all I had were his fear of a blade in my hand, that were enough.

Voices rose up in the hall behind him, and Gisbourne turned.

I ran for the nearest window, ready to fling myself out if need be.

It weren’t needed to fling. Gisbourne were at least a few moments behind, and I climbed out on the ledge and onto the posts that stuck out the side of the wall. I hated that my hand meant I weren’t much good for climbing. I hated the skirts
that twisted up my legs. A few shaky leaps more brought me over to a stone trough and I jumped onto that and down.

I went for the wall and stood at the base of it, staring up. It were high and I were already weak, the shivers that Gisbourne started not nearly out of me yet.

Coming round the side and bitter with cold, I wondered what to do about the guards. I couldn’t much climb past them, and my head weren’t working proper enough to figure out a better plan. Moments came and went, and I were just colder and colder yet.

Looking to the residences, I wondered if I had to go back. If I had to return to him in his foul temper in that thimble of a room. I stepped forward, then stopped. Weren’t nothing that way but pain and trouble. How could I go back?

“My lady,” the guards said.

I turned. They stepped their heels together in an awful clamor.

I walked toward them slow, careful, and they kept their watch.

Walking past them, every step got more quick as I realized they full meant to let me walk out unbothered. It seemed there were something I could like about being a noblewoman after all.

The guards at the base of the castle opened the gates for me, and gave me a horse and a cloak besides. I could bare stammer out my thanks, stunned stupid with surprise.

I rode out into the night, heading straight for Edwinstowe.
The horse bore me more quick than my feet would, and the beast took me through the narrow wooded path that led to the monastery. I dismounted and left the horse in the yard, going to the warming room.

I stopped at the door, my hand trembling near the latch, remembering the last time I were in there.

My hand made its decision and the latch tripped, the door opening and the warmth running over me. The three boys stopped. They weren’t asleep yet, and for one horrible breath, I wondered if in skirts and a noble’s kit I didn’t belong here.

“Christ, it’s good to see you, Scar,” Much said, bounding over to me and hugging me.

John were next, lifting me off the floor with his big arms.

Then he let me go and Robin were there, and the part of me that weren’t much tough at all, the part that loved him and were terror-struck at Gisbourne rose up, and tears jumped from my eyes.

He caught me close, tucking me tight into his chest till it felt like my own chest, till it felt like he drew breath and it ran through me to make me strong. “They can’t see,” he whispered in my ear. “Cry as much as you need to, Scar. I won’t let them see.”

His arms strapped closer around me and gave me their strength. “I am so scared of him, Rob,” I whispered soft, rubbing his neck with my words.

“You’re all right,” he murmured, his hands like running water down my back to draw my pain away. “You’re with me now. And if you want, you don’t ever have to go back there.”

“Just hold on to me a bit longer,” I breathed into his neck, the skin hot and damp with tears.

He nodded, and I thanked God for his calm heart.

I held him till my breath ran steady and I could bear to untwine my arms from him. As I let go, I looked at his face and I knew in a heartbeat he weren’t calm at all. He were furious, rage and steel and hellfire in his eyes, but he were calm for me. He gave calm to me so I could be strong.

“So,” I asked, giving a bare smile, “what’s the plan?”

“Thoresby’s been allowed to compete,” Much said, “but he can’t beat much of anything in an archery contest. He’s truly a terrible shot.”

“The obvious thing is just to dress Rob up like Thoresby,” John said, “but he doesn’t want to do it.”

“I’m working with him,” Rob said. “He’s getting better.”

“He’s not really,” said Much. “But I’m trying to figure some sort of arm band to make his aim better.”

“Why won’t you just stand in for him?” John asked. “You’ll be in a coat and scarf and such anyway. We could make you pass. Dammit, Rob, it’s the simplest plan.”

“No, it isn’t,” Rob said quiet. “We all know what’s happening to me and I can’t be counted on for much. Besides, if they catch me, he’s disqualified entirely. And I’ll be killed.”

I threaded his fingers through mine and squeezed. It weren’t like I would ever let that pass.

“I’ll see what I can pick up about the others,” I said.

“Gisbourne’s a good shot,” John said. “We know that.”

I nodded. “I think that’s why Prince John chose this. Gisbourne claims it were promised to him, and I think the prince is just making a show and giving it to Gisbourne anyway.”

“All we’ve got is Thoresby,” John said with a sigh. “I don’t think it will be enough.”

Gripping Rob tight, I stepped forward. “It has to be enough. Our people have gone through hell and more under the last sheriff. If Gisbourne is sheriff we won’t never be free.”

“
We’ve
gone through hell,” John growled. “And we have nothing to show for it. I’m beyond weary of all of this.”

“We’re close, John,” I told him. “Things will be different with Thoresby.”

“Things are never different,” he said, and stared at the fire.

“You lot go to sleep,” Rob said. “Scar, are you going back tonight?”

My pipes ran thick, and I swallowed. I had to, didn’t I? “Yes,” I said soft.

“I’ll walk you back.”

He let go of my hand for a moment to pull on a cape and boots, and even that small bit of him I wanted back. It returned swift, and his fingers pressed into mine, gloveless and warm.

He tugged a slight bit and I followed him.

“Bye, Scar,” Much said.

“I’ll be up at the castle for the tournament tomorrow, Scar,” John said. “I’ll look in on you.”

I wanted to snap that I weren’t a baby or some small thing that needed looking after, but it weren’t the truth. I missed the
band. I missed feeling safe and looked after. I nodded at John and left, tucking Rob’s arm closer to me.

We stepped into the cold dark and it felt sweeter with him beside me, like instead of dying the world had made space for the two of us. Going to the yard I took the reins of the horse, pulling him along with us as we walked.

“What happened tonight, Scarlet?” Rob asked me.

I turned my face into his shoulder against the thought. “Not worth thinking on, Rob. Are you still not sleeping?”

“I’ve slept a little,” he said. “Never for very long at a time. The monks said that might help.”

“And it has?”

He nodded. “The nightmares start and I wake up. I don’t slip into them.”

“But they’re still there.”

“They’ve always been there, Scar. I cheated them for as long as I could.”

“I had nightmares when I were younger, when my sister died. They went away after a time.”
After I met you
, I knew with a start. I hadn’t put that together before. And now he had nightmares, and I couldn’t put a balm on his mind the way he had mine.

His arms rubbed along me, warming me like fire. “I’m trying for you, Scar. I’m trying to find a way out of them.” His voice were whisper soft and the night ate it up. “I keep thinking about that night, when I hurt you. How much worse it could have been. And if we ever—I mean, in the chance that
we ever have a family—” His voice stopped, and he were swallowing, over and over, like whatever were stuck wouldn’t go down.

Family
. That meant children, didn’t it? Babies. It made shivers and gooseflesh run over my body. For so long I had never thought I were meant for that, but
Rob
… I could see our family clear as water. Strong sons with Rob’s eyes and moppy little girls with my sister’s gold hair. Rob with them all bundled up in his arms.