“You cannot marry Isabel because she’s already married, but I can marry Rob. I will marry Rob.”
He nodded once. “Does he want to marry you, Marian?” he asked me. “He cares for you, that much is clear. But he’s an honorable man—and though he was born a noble, he’s not one now. He knows better than most what a marriage could purchase you. Will he marry you, knowing what he will be keeping you from?”
I stared at him, horrified that I didn’t have a sure answer for that.
“As I said, Marian, this would be a match of friendship and gain; if he will have you, I wish you the best.” He stepped closer to me, catching my full hand and bringing it to his mouth. “I must go attend to the queen. I’ll leave in the afternoon, but should you find yourself in need of a husband, my offer will stand.”
He kissed my hand, and let it go.
CHAPTER
I were quiet and stunned as I returned to the Great Hall. Rob were there, ordering people into groups to hunt. He led us into Sherwood, glancing at me but not saying anything. Allan had declined to come, so I were with Rob and David and Godfrey, and we walked into the forest, toward a clearing in the woods where we’d always had good luck with hunting before. In the undisturbed deep of the forest the animals were out roaming, young ones hobbling along beside them, frighting as we came through but sure to return as soon as we were still.
“Scar, you and I will go up,” Rob said, pointing to a good tree with a wide, stable heart where we could sit for a long while. “David, Godfrey, lie in the brush.”
David looked to me and I nodded, and he and Godfrey went off to obey. I swallowed as I looked at the tree. “Rob,” I said soft.
His eyes met mine.
I turned my hands over, touching the stumps of my fingers. “I don’t know if I can climb anymore.”
He looked me over, looked at my hands. “We’ll see.”
“Rob—” I started, but he went toward the tree.
My face flushed. I didn’t want to fall down the damn thing in front of him. I didn’t want to be this girl, who didn’t know much of what she were good at anymore. I crossed my bow over my shoulders and followed him with a sigh.
He stood next to the tree. The first branch were just above his head, and before it wouldn’t have been a thought to jump and grab it, curl my legs up into the tree, gaining one branch and then the next, climbing fast.
He stepped aside and I jumped for it. One hand held fast and the other slid right off, leaving me to swing, my shoulder burning with the effort. I grunted, letting go and frowning at him.
His eyes met mine. “Again,” he said, nodding at it.
“Rob—” I started.
“Again,” he said gentle.
I shook my head, but I did as he asked, and as my first hand fell he grabbed my knees. I looked down at him, and he nodded up again. He pushed up, and I could change my hold on the branch, with my palm on top to get a better grip.
My arms were weaker than they’d been before, but I pulled myself up with a huff. Rob came up right behind me.
“It doesn’t count as climbing if you’re doing half the work,” I told him.
He shrugged, standing on the branch and pulling me up with him. There were more branches now, like stairs in the tree. “Then what does it count as?” he asked.
I frowned, unsure.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll go up first. And if you need help, I’ll help.”
Simple. But not simple at all.
He started up the tree, and it were easy to follow him. My feet could do most of the work with my hands only guides and balances, and I tried to go faster, to keep pace with him.
He made the heart of the tree before me, and he turned back and held out his arm. I grabbed it above the wrist and he pulled me up, close to him. “You beat me,” I told him.
His head tilted. “Were we racing?”
“No,” I said. I were the only one racing, it seemed.
“Where should we set up?” he asked, looking about.
“There,” I said, pointing to a wide branch with sturdy branches below it. I went to it and crouched, letting my legs hang off either side and catch the lower branches for stability. Rob sat a bit behind me, and we both took out our bows and arrows.
Nervous, I started to test mine. I tried holding the bow in my whole hand and the string in my half, then reversed it. Then reversed it again.
I felt Rob’s eyes on me, and turned to look at him. He looked up at my face. He’d been watching my hand.
I turned away from him, feeling my stomach twist, feeling ugly and scarred and weak.
“Can you use a knife with that hand?” he asked.
I pulled one from my belt, showing him.
He tested the grip, his fingers molding over mine and pushing, and nodded. “Impressive.”
I looked at it. “I practiced with a rock. It’s not as strong as the other hand.”
“Of course it isn’t, Scar. You lost two of your fingers. But the fact that you can hold a knife at all is incredible.”