Lady Thief: A Scarlet Novel (25 page)

I didn’t shut my eyes again. I raised my chin and watched as Rob’s arm went tense and then loose as the arrow shot out
from his bow, making its graceful arch over the snow-covered field. I lost it for a moment, a thin shot of black against the backdrop of trees, and then the
thunk
of it hitting the target drew my eye.

The first arrow wide. The next in the second ring.

And the last so close to center there were no question that it had to be the winning shot.

I ran, and Winchester didn’t stop me this time. I picked up my skirts with my one hand and flew over the snow, the Archangel’s own wings carrying me forward. People were breaking through the fencing and flooding the field, but I made it to Rob before any of them.

He dropped his bow and picked me up as I threw my arms around him. I were careful to keep my hurt arm up, but it hurt anyway and I couldn’t much care. Tears were overrunning my face and I buried it in his neck, my whole body shaking, though I weren’t sure if it were tears or joy or running what caused it.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I love you.”

“You did it,” I told him. “You won. You did it, my love.”

He rubbed his face into my neck too, and I felt him shudder.

“Guards!” the prince roared, and we broke apart to see him flinging his arm this way and that. “Stop the rabble!”

Guards flooded forward, but Rob turned and spread his hands wide, and the people stopped running but started cheering. Rob raised his hands and lowered them, and the people
grew quiet slow. “Please retake your seats,” Rob yelled when they were quiet enough. “I believe I have an oath to take!”

This drew cheers and whoops and unending clapping, but the people, with the prodding of the guards, took their seats again. Turning back to the nobles, I realized Gisbourne were gone from the field.

“Your champion!” the prince yelled.

I laughed, unable to keep it in as the happiness bubbled up in me. The people were cheering themselves hoarse.

“Kneel!” the prince called.

Robin knelt.

“Repeat this oath,” the prince said. The people went silent.

“By the Lord, I will to King Richard and the office of sheriff be faithful and true, and love all that he loves, and shun all that he shuns, according to God’s law, and according to the world’s principles, and never, by will nor by force, by word nor by work, do ought of what is loathful to him; on condition that he keep me as I am willing to deserve when I to him submitted and chose his will.”

Robin repeated it, his voice strong and powerful in the quiet. Snow drifted down on him, crowning his head and anointing his shoulders like holy blessings.

“Stand,” the prince commanded. Isabel came forward and presented a golden arrow on a velvet cushion, and Robin bowed low to her.

“Sheriff,” she greeted, nodding her head. “Collect your prize.”

Rob straightened up. His eyes met mine, hungry and wanting
in a way that made my skin rush over with red. He took the arrow but looked the whole time at me. I could see it, then—our future together. That it could happen. That one day soon he might be able to look at me like that and I could kiss it right off his face, in front of all these people, the wife of Robin Hood—a true wife. A loved wife.

Rob broke our gaze and turned to the crowd, holding up his prize. The prince said something further about congratulations or some such, but it were lost.

Nottingham had its hero.

The prince announced that there were to be a feast that night, and the whole castle and courtyard would be open to the common folk. They had their sheriff, and he didn’t want there to be any more mistakes with his orders and generosity. I saw Eleanor nod slow while he said it, and I suspected his true motive were pleasing his mother.

The sun began to set, and I fair floated back up to the castle proper, going to the chambers I shared with Gisbourne eager, for once, to wear a dress. I wanted to try and look well for Rob that night; I wanted to dance with him and bask in the strangeness of this single happy moment.

The first of many happy moments, perhaps.

I opened the door and much of my mood changed. Gisbourne were there, bent over in a chair by the fire, his shirt off, looking broken. I stopped in the doorway and didn’t move farther in.

“Marian, close the door,” he grunted.

I nudged it shut with my foot, coming closer to him. I sat in the other chair, drawing up my feet, resting the hand that had set to aching.

“How did you do it?” he asked, his voice low and rumbling like a dog’s.

Scowling, I asked, “Do what?”

“Switch the arrows back. How did you even figure it out?”

“I didn’t switch anything.”

“I don’t believe you.”

My shoulders lifted. “As a rule, you shouldn’t.”

He sneered. “Of course. Thief, liar, all that. Only you aren’t any of those things, are you? You’re honest, and honorable. Good.” He stood and never looked to me, leaning over the fireplace instead. His body were bruised from the days of abuse. “You knew I’d cheat. And you still believed in him. Believed he’d win.”

“I thought the prince would cheat for you,” I said. “But yes.”

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” he said to the fire. “You were mine, Marian, long before you even knew he existed. Your unassailable loyalty and unshakeable belief should have been for me.”

That stole my breath, and I stared at him as he turned, his face broken open and wide, like a hurt little boy instead of the evil warrior of a man I knew. He came closer to me and knelt before my chair, pulling me closer to the edge of it. “What are you—” I started.

“Hush,” he said, and he leaned forward and kissed me. Even if I saw a hurt soul, it weren’t in his kiss; it were forceful and hard and strong, overpowering. I tried to pull away and he held me still.

My breath started rushing faster and my heart fluttered with fear. I curled my nails into his face, digging at the flesh as I tried to cry out.

With more speed than I thought he had in him, he grabbed my arms and hauled me up before him. He let my mouth go but held me still. “Get on the bed,” he told me.

“Are you
daft
?” I wailed. “No!”

His fingers pinched my arms, squeezing overtight. His face turned into a sneer. “Tell me, my dear, what did you think my reaction would be to losing this competition? Just hand you over to your hero with a smile on my face? Let you live as lord and lady of the manor?”

“The annulment—”

“Getting rid of you seems quite thrilling provided I have something left. But I don’t, and you, Eleanor’s favorite, will buy me something more. So get on the bed, Marian, because I will never annul this marriage, and in a few minutes, it won’t even be possible.”

He let me go, which seemed a fool thing to do. I ran for the door but he were too close, and he slammed against my back, trapping my hand between me and the door.

I wailed in pain.

His hands caught my waist, running up to squeeze my bits.
“Since when did I ever mind chasing you, love?” he growled in my ear.

I smashed my head back against his and got an inch of space, running to the window, trying to get my knife on the shutter. He caught up and pinned me to the ledge so I bent forward, straining for the knife.

“I’m not Eleanor’s favorite,” I grunted through my teeth. “What would she ever give you for me?”

His hands ran up my back and caught the back of my gown. He jerked hard and the thing tore. I pulled back from the shutter to try and hit him, but his giant paw on my neck heaved me forward. “Stay,” he snapped. “Foolish little thief. You know nothing of who you really are. Why, Eleanor and Richard will do anything to keep you safe.”

His hands were on my naked back, and he pressed a kiss to the long scar that ran from my shoulder to my spine that his sword had given me months ago.

“Lovely,” he murmured as my skin crawled over my bones.

The extra weight had pushed me forward, and my hand closed on the hilt of the knife. I couldn’t push up—he were too heavy on my back and my good hand had the knife in it. I pulled it under me. “Eleanor wouldn’t give you anything for me. And what the hell does Richard have to do with it?”

“You don’t think?” he mused. “You haven’t figured this out, clever thief?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your father, Marian.”

“My father?” I asked.

He were pulling at my skirts and trying to drag them up while he were still pushing me down. I kicked out vicious, trying to hit him. Gisbourne laughed. “You know. Don’t you?
Coeur de Leon
,” he said to me.

Lionheart
.

My blood started to drain from my skin. “What?” I asked.

“I know your parents said something about it. Didn’t they?” His voice were taunting me now.

“N-no.”

“I heard them say you’re not their daughter. Whose daughter are you, Marian?” he asked, chuckling. “Who do you think could place you in a noble household? Who would?”

My good hand curled into a fist around the knife, shaking and waiting for the right moment even as I felt his hands on my legs. “What do you know, Guy?”

“I know who you are.” I were still and he leaned close to whisper in my ear. “I know who you’ve always been. Whose blood is really in your veins. I know why it would be the most mortal of sins to spill your blood. Why Eleanor won’t allow her son to harm you.”

“Say it,” I snapped.

He laughed. “Who hid you, Marian?”

“Eleanor,” I guessed.

He nodded. “Why?”

“Do you think I know that! Tell me, Gisbourne!”

“Because you’re a
bastard
,” he told me, pulling my skirts higher.

“Whose?”

“I already told you that.”

My head swam, and my knees went soft.
Coeur de Leon
. “That’s not true.”

“Of course it is.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I would have heard of it!” I said. “Everyone would have heard of it!”

“Eleanor’s not that foolish. You would never be allowed to rule, of course, but a bastard princess—that’s still a considerable power. Eleanor knows better than anyone how to wield a child. She uses her own like chess pieces.”

“But he weren’t—he weren’t even king—” I were struggling to breathe right.

Gisbourne chuckled, and he lifted his hips off me to pull my skirt up. It were a tiny bit of space, but it were the moment I needed.

I sucked in a breath and twisted hard, slashing out with the knife.

It hit him in the shoulder, sliding a red ribbon of blood across his collarbone, and he jumped back with a howl. I ran to the door and opened it, angling the knife at him as he came closer. He scowled and stopped.

“Mary,” I snapped. She appeared.

“Fetch the earl. Quick. And I will be needing a new dress for dinner.”

“Y-yes, my lady,” she said, looking between me and my husband. She went.

Gisbourne stayed where he were, looking at the knife. “You call me a fool so often,” I snapped. “But you just gave me your best bit of information. If I mean as much to Eleanor or the king as you say, she won’t never let you force me, Gisbourne. I thought I’d have to run far but all I have to do is go down the hall, isn’t that right?”

“Oh, I’m sure she’d protect you. But if you go to Eleanor, if you aren’t in my bed by morning light, ready to do your willing duty as my wife, I will raze Leaford to the ground with everyone inside it. And that will only be my first action.”

My courage faltered.

“Everything has been stolen from me, Marian, since I was a boy. You are my only chance of having Richard pay me any mind at all, and I won’t let anyone, least of all your mewling pup of an outlaw, take another damn thing from me. Besides, you really think Prince John is finished with you, Marian? With your dashing hero? He will crush you both. He will make you wish you never won this so-called victory. He will have his underhanded, vindictive way, and if you ever forget that, look to your hand.”

He were silent for a moment.

“He will make you pay for this, Marian.”

“My lady?” the earl asked, appearing slightly breathless in the doorway. He looked me over and frowned.

“Your Grace,” I said. “It seems I am in need of your assistance. Would you mind detaining my husband so I may change for dinner?”

He folded his arms. “With pleasure.”

“Just remember, Marian,” Gisbourne told me, sitting in a chair by the fire. “You have till morning.”

The earl insisted on escorting me to dinner. I wore the grandest piece I had—a blue velvet dress sewn with scrolling silver thread over a silvery kirtle so thin it were near sheer. Mary brushed my hair and left the pieces free and loose around my face. It were useless to try and keep them back.

“May I ask what happened?” Winchester whispered to me.

I were shivering. “I was very grateful for your help, your Grace.”

He nodded. “My pleasure. I am assuming, then, that our new sheriff should not know of this?”

“As much as I would like for him to kill my husband, murder doesn’t speak well for a sheriff.”

Winchester nodded. “I’m glad you called for me.”