CHAPTER Twenty-Two
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.”
My hand tightened on his arm at his kindness. “Thank you, your Grace.”
“May I ask what happens in the morning?” he said. “He was clearly threatening you.”
I shivered, and his jaw worked. I couldn’t say the words.
He cleared his throat. “I will post a guard at your chamber, my lady. Whatever he’s threatened you with will not happen tomorrow. Beyond that I cannot
make promises, but from what I’ve heard it doesn’t take you long to figure out a plan, does it?”
My chest drew a shaky breath. “No, my lord. It doesn’t. Can your guard see that he doesn’t leave the castle grounds tomorrow?” I asked. I weren’t
sure if having the earl’s guard there would be the same as telling Eleanor, but I wouldn’t risk his ire.
The earl gave a sharp nod.
I felt quiet, my heart and head at odds. Had I achieved anything? I had purchased a few hours, perhaps—but I didn’t doubt Gisbourne. If I asked Eleanor
to intercede, Leaford and all the innocent people there would burn. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t stay.
And what of Gisbourne’s other words, claiming I were the daughter of the king of England? It couldn’t bare be true. And yet, I were someone’s child,
and it didn’t seem I were the Leafords’. It were possible, then, that all of the mysteries I’d seen at court would be answered with this one thing,
but it didn’t feel like the truth in my bones.
Then again, nothing much did feel right anymore. In the flimsy shoes and floating dress, walking through Nottingham Castle like I were meant to be there,
I didn’t know myself much at all. Rob were sheriff. I were Gisbourne’s wife, and not in a small way, but in a forever way. He’d never let me go, no
matter what I threatened. I didn’t much doubt that he never meant to annul the marriage at all, and I were a fool to have ever thought he would.
I thought of every moment of pain, every threat, every leer he had brought upon me. I had borne it all—for what? For the ashes of his promise at my
feet. I were a fool to have ever believed him. I were a fool in every way.
My life had become something I couldn’t fair recognize.
I walked into the hall, and people were everywhere. The seats were gone, save for a single table to make the royals untouchable. The rest of the food
were heaped on the tables, and people thronged around it, a feast in true. Music were playing, a lovely tune with laughter and chatter twining through
it.
“Your pardon, your Grace, but may I steal the lady?”
I turned and a short, small laugh came out of me. It were Much, clean and kitted up and looking older and stronger than I’d ever known him.
Winchester bowed and relinquished me. Much bent his arm to me, and I grinned and wrapped my arm around his, trying to forget what Gisbourne could do to
my friends to make me do his bidding. “You look very handsome,” I told him, and he beamed.
“Come along, everyone’s here,” he told me. He pointed to John and Bess and Godfrey, and I’d never been so happy to see the inside of the hall.
John hugged my waist, pulling me off my feet and careful not to crush my hand. When he put me down I went to Bess, looking about unsure and shy. She had
one hand on her stomach. She met my eye and frowned a little. “Am I meant to curtsy?” she asked. “I don’t know much about curtsies.”
I rushed forward and hugged her. “You’re family,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re one of us now.”
She hugged me back, tight. “Thank you,” she whispered back.
Godfrey were next, and he bowed over my hand and kissed it. John made a face. “See, you can’t do things like that if you’re meant to replace me,”
John said. “Scar’s head gets much too big.”
“Then maybe you should learn a thing or two about manners from me,” Godfrey told him with a grin. “Lady Scar, you look beautiful.”
“Only I’m allowed to tell her that,” said a voice in my ear. My heart broke painful open and I spun around as Rob’s arms circled my waist, hugging
tight against him, desperate to hold on to him. He hugged me, rubbing my back, dragging his fingers over every silver swirl.
“Is it over?” he murmured to me. “Is it really over?”
Tears rose up and my throat went tight. I pulled back to look him in the eye. “You’re sheriff. The people have nothing to fear.”
Our faces swayed closer, and I shivered again. I would never have this, the right to kiss him in public.
We didn’t kiss, but a faster tune began, and Rob took my good hand. “Please dance with me.”
“I never learned the fancy dances,” I told him, frowning.
“I don’t care how we do it,” he said with a grin. “I just want you in my arms.”
He tugged me along to where a throng of common folk were dancing, and, careful to tuck my hurt hand up on his shoulder, he pulled me in close. We danced
along with them, jumping and stepping fast and foolish. My short, funny hair flew about my face, and my heart beat as fast as my laughter, all the while
I stared into Rob’s eyes.
He slowed down and pulled me out of the thick of the leaping throngs, dancing closer, rubbing his cheek along mine. “Marry me when the sun sets,” he
breathed.
I raised my head a little. “What?”
“If your marriage is annulled when the prince leaves tomorrow morning, marry me by sunset. I can’t wait longer, Scarlet, I don’t have it in me. I have
missed you every minute, and I don’t want to see another sunrise without you as my wife.”
My heart broke, and water spilled out of my eyes. “What if it’s not annulled?” I breathed.
“Then I’ll wait. Every sunset, every day. I’ll count them all until you’re mine. My perfect wife. My only wife,” he said. “The only heart that’s
meant for mine.” His nose dragged on my face. “I only feel like a hero when you’re with me, Scarlet. I feel like I have a destiny greater than pain
and hurt when you’re in my arms.”
I tugged him closer, tucking my head into the bend of his neck to wipe my tears on him. “Me too,” I said.
“Scarlet.”
“Mmm.”
“That was me asking you to marry me, you know.”
My eyes pressed shut. “Yes,” I whispered. “That’s all I want.”
“Oh, hell,” someone said, and I looked up to see Winchester standing behind Rob. Rob turned and I wiped my face overquick. “I’m trying to wait, but I
have to accuse Lady Leaford of hoarding you, Sheriff,” he said.
Rob held me tucked under one arm, and bowed his head. “Your Grace,” he greeted.
Winchester looked more like a boy than I’d ever seen him. He gripped Rob’s shoulder and shook a little, laughing. “Your Grace! Do you know how odd it
is to not be able to say that back to you? Though I’ll much prefer it to the names you were calling me when the healer was working on you.”
Rob winced. “He told you that?”
Winchester shrugged. “I’ve been called worse. You did very well today, Locksley. The master at arms would have been proud.”
“Master at arms?” I questioned.
“That’s how we know each other,” Rob told me. “We were pages together for a time.”
Glimpsing the regal tilt of Eleanor’s head, I slipped out from Rob’s arm. “Well, you two should talk.” I smiled at Rob. “I’ll find you.”
He smiled back at me, fingers dragging along my hand as I let him go. Winchester kissed my hand, and I went to find Eleanor.
She weren’t where I had seen her. Instead Isabel were there, frowning at me. “Lady Leaford,” she said.
“Your Highness,” I said, nodding my head to her.
“Eleanor has called for you. She went to say good night to my husband but asked you to escort her back to her rooms.”
I looked to the royal table, where Eleanor stood beside Prince John.
“That was a disgusting display this afternoon,” she told me, folding her arms. “You may as well have spat in Guy’s face.”
My eyes drifted shut and I shook my head. “Excuse me, your Highness.”
I went to the side of the royal table and waited. Eleanor nodded to me and came closer, and I curtsied low to her. “Up, up, my dear,” she told me. I
stood, and she twined our arms together, clasping my hand. “Come,” she said. “You shall walk me to my rooms and ask me your many questions.”
Dumb, I stared at her.
“You do have questions, don’t you?”
“Most that I’m frightened to ask,” I said.
She laughed. “Fear. Something I have yet to see from you, Lady Leaford.”
“That title’s not mine, is it?”
She drew in a breath, and it made her look older as we moved into the dark hallway, lit by torches and moon. “No. The lord and lady Leaford are not your
natural parents.”
“Who are?”
“A very beautiful blacksmith’s daughter, and my son. King Richard the Lionhearted.”
I stared at her, her proud chin, her white neck, her clear, steady blue gaze. The moon made her pale skin look like she belonged to the other world. “I
’m your granddaughter.”
Her fingers squeezed mine. “You are.”
“But Prince John—he hates me.”
Her eyebrow arched high. “Well. My children cleave very close or hate very powerfully. It’s only because Richard teased him so as a child. It isn’t
your fault.”
“How does he know who I am, and I don’t?”
She sighed. “He was near when it happened. Terrible penchant for eavesdropping, that boy. He knew it all from the start.”
“Why did he send Gisbourne to marry me?”
“Because my John controlled Isabel, and since he was very young, Gisbourne loved Isabel. He never had the status to marry her, of course, and when she
married, Gisbourne followed her. And John took full advantage of such a connection. You see, Richard was never meant to inherit the throne. He had two
older brothers, but death befell them both. When Richard was crowned, John wasn’t happy—he and Richard hardly got along. John knew about you—he wanted
some way to control his brother, even a small one. So he ordered Gisbourne to marry you. John is many terrible things, but he is a master manipulator.”
“That’s no good thing,” I told her.
Her head tilted. “It can be. A king must see not just the hills before him, but the length of the road at large. John can see many roads at once; he
understands how long it can take to achieve a goal. When he has a good heart, he can be a masterful ruler. But without it, impatience and selfishness
cause him to use his gifts poorly.”
A cold weight circled my heart. “He can never be king.”
Eleanor frowned. “He will be king, Marian. I wish I could keep Richard as king forever, and I will keep him there as long as I can, but he is like his
brothers—too good, proud, and brave for a long life. John is careful; he will outlive Richard, and he will take the throne. I just need to make sure
that when he does, he becomes the extremely capable ruler he should be. And that he doesn’t so alienate the common opinion in the meantime that they
riot when he’s crowned.”
“You have such faith in him,” I marveled.
“He is my son,” she said, pushing her shoulders back. “He has my steel inside of him. And that steel must be tempered more carefully than any sword.
Perhaps I spent too much time on his older siblings and not enough on him as a child, but his family will rule Europe. He will learn.” She shook her
head. “But it is not him I wish to speak of. Tell me why you ran from the Leafords. Were they unkind to you? I had many spies there, watching their
treatment of you, but I confess I couldn’t see you myself.”
“No. They were loving and true. They raised me very well. And my sister—my sister Joanna, she was everything I could have wanted for love.” My voice
went rough, and she squeezed my hand.
“You lost her.”
I nodded. “We ran to London together. We both—we did things, to live. Different things. I stole.”
“She fell ill?” Eleanor guessed.
“Yes.”
“Why did you not go to a noble family for shelter? To court?” she asked. “A noblewoman—any woman—should never be refused such.”
“They would have sent us back.”
“So if it was not your family you feared, what was it?”
“Gisbourne,” I whispered to her. “I were—I was so young, so unready to be married. And he terrified me. There was a darkness I saw in him, and I
fled. And she came with me. He caught me, and cut me,” I told her, covering my scar. “But Joanna hit him and we got away. We never let anyone find us
again. And I learned to be a thief,” I admitted to her.
“A very good one, from what I hear.”
I looked to her. “You knew?”
“I heard of you, after you had left London. I made the necessary inquiries, but no one was sure where you went. Until Gisbourne found you here, and the
famous Will Scarlet was discovered to be Lady Marian Leaford.”
“Why didn’t my mother keep me?” I asked quiet.
“I wouldn’t let her,” she admitted. “I wanted you raised a noble, but I couldn’t do it myself. Your mother—Lady Leaford, rather—was a friend.”
My tongue ran over my lips, gone dry. “Where is she? My natural mother?”
“She died,” Eleanor said low. “A few years ago. In childbirth.”
My heart froze in my chest. “I have a-a brother? A sister?”
She shook her head. “No. The child died with her.”
Beats ran through my heart again, but they were heavy and dark.
“Richard does have a son, though.”
“What?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Illegitimate, like yourself. Philip. He lives quite comfortably in France; Richard married him to his ward, Amelia of Cognac.
One day, perhaps, you and I can visit him.”
There were so many half promises in her words that I couldn’t much breathe. A brother—France—the faint idea that I might have some kind of friendship
with her. My head went light and I gripped her hand.
“Come, my dear,” Eleanor said, waving to a guarded door. They opened the door for us and we entered. She showed me to a chair near the fire and sat
beside me. “Lady Leaford and I would like some wine,” she said to one of the ladies that appeared to wait on the queen. They hadn’t followed us from
the hall—had they waited in her room? “You look quite pale, Marian.”
“I don’t … I just …” I shook my head, feeling a fool.
“You have royal blood in you, but that has not changed. Your heart is no more noble than it was before. Truly there is nothing to change.”
“I’m …” I couldn’t say the word.
“Royal,” she finished. “Or do you mean a princess? The lovely part of all of this is that now you know, I can finally introduce you to Richard when he
returns. He’ll be pleased. He always likes to hear of you—of your welfare. He was quite distressed when you ran off—he accused Lord Leaford of having
hurt you.”
“Why did he never make himself known to me?”
“For the same reason I didn’t, my dear. It wasn’t wise.” She waved her hand. “I should like to go to Aquitaine early next year; you shall come with
me.”
I pressed my unhurt hand to my heart. Hours ago I would have never thought to leave Nottinghamshire, but if Gisbourne wouldn’t grant me the annulment, I
would have to run. There were worse fates than getting to know my grandmother.
Grandmother.
Her eyes flicked down. “My dear, I may have considerable faith in my son, but I also know his faults very well.”
“I do as well,” I answered overquick, holding up my half hand.
She frowned. “Yes. You do. You must know this was not the way he wanted this tournament to end.”
“He wanted Gisbourne as sheriff.”
“He wanted to control one of the largest and most prosperous counties in England. A key point between the north and south. He has lost that. He isn’t
pleased. And when he’s displeased, he can be rather … childish.”
“So why does that mean I must go to France?”
She bristled, opening her mouth as the lady returned with wine. She poured a cup for each of us, and Eleanor waved her out. “Aquitaine is not France,”
Eleanor said sharp. “Not a bit. Nor is it English. It is Aquitaine. Free from both countries and the richest of all of them. But without you by my side,
I don’t know if I can protect you from John’s manipulations, his pettiness. He could hurt you, and I won’t allow it.”
“He’s hurt me,” I said. “But I believe …” I halted, sucking in a breath. “I believe I have more to fear from my husband.”
“Ah,” she said, understanding. She nodded slow. “Well,” she said, “terrible husbands are a difficult problem indeed. But a noble woman must learn
her own ways of managing the men that befall her.”
“How?” I asked.
She lifted a shoulder. “It depends on the man, and the crimes he commits against you. But there are ways. If you embrace who you are, my dear, accept
the fact that you are, in a fashion, a princess of England—you might find a great many tools at your disposal to soothe his male ego.”
“I won’t soothe any bit of him,” I snapped. “And I won’t leave Nottingham for promise of pain. This is my home.” Were that even true anymore?
“And Aquitaine is mine, yet I had to leave.”
“Hurt is a common thing. Scars, blood, none of it matters in true to me. It’s a pebble beside love, and protecting the people what need it. My place is
here, making sure he can’t never hurt the people that can’t protect themselves.” I didn’t have to run, did I? Rob were here. The band were here. I
could run from Gisbourne and still do what I were meant—protect the people.
“Marian, you are royal. All of England is yours to protect, especially in your father’s absence.”
I drew myself up straighter. “Then I’ll start with the well-placed, prosperous county between the north and south.”
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Do you love him, my dear?”
I looked at her. Were I meant to deny it?
“Robin,” she said, as if my heart didn’t know just who she meant.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes.”
She nodded. “And he very clearly loves you.”
A thrill burned through my heart. “He does.”
“Love and marriage are not easy bedfellows, my dear. It’s rare that a woman gets to enjoy both with the same man. But I truly hope the future holds
that for you.”
Her words slid under my skin and circled around my heart. I held them tight there, like good wishes could shore up my courage and hope.
She patted my hand. “As for Aquitaine, it is not something that needs to be decided tonight. Or ever. You need not choose between them; perhaps we can
still have a few adventures between protecting the people, yes? I should very much like to get to know you, now that I have you back.”
I gripped her hand in return. “I want to know you too, my queen.”
“Eleanor,” she said. “You may call me Eleanor.”
“Eleanor,” I murmured slow, tasting it as it ran over my lips. My grandmother. Eleanor.
She loosed her hand from mine gentle. “I’m quite tired, now. I must retire, but promise you’ll meet me in the morning. My carriage will be ready first
thing to take me to London with the royal progress.”
“I will,” I vowed.
She stood and collected me into her arms in a tight hug. I drew in a deep breath; she smelt of lavender and snow.
“Go,” she said. “If you happen to dance with a certain sheriff, I’m sure my minstrels will sing songs of it to me later.”
I laughed. “Your minstrels are trouble.”
She shrugged, but smiled. “Good night, Marian.”
Her lady saw me out, and I drifted down the hallway, hanging in the dark, delaying the moment when I would have to tell Rob that there would be no
sunset, no marriage, no life.
When I got to the hall, if many nobles were still there, I couldn’t tell them from the common folk, laughing and singing and dancing about. John found
me first, catching me up and dancing with me with a broad, drunken grin. I yelped when he hurt my hand and he slowed, dancing more careful. “She said
you were the most kind!” he crowed. “Our mean, grumpy Scarlet—kind!”
“Bess did?” I asked.
He nodded. “I’m going to marry her, Scarlet! Rob’s the sheriff; I’ll marry her and live out the rest of my days as a father and a husband and a
happy, foolish, fat, lazy man. A blacksmith! I’m going to open shop.” His grin went wider and looked ready to crack his face.
I laughed at him. “As long as you fix my knives without my having to pay, I’ll be happy for you.”
He threw his head back for laughing. “You’d steal them anyway!”
“Where’s Bess?” I asked.
“Winchester sent her home in his carriage. Good man, that. Much and I figured we’d sack out in the barn—by Christ, I don’t think I’d make it halfway
home!”
I laughed, but Rob caught my eye and I danced out of John’s arms. John took up with Much, who frowned and pushed him off.
Rob pulled me to him, smiling with a fair amount of ale and cheer. “We need … I must talk to you before tomorrow morning,” I told him soft.
His grin faded. “What’s wrong?”
My nose touched his. “There’s something to say. Many things.”
The arms about me went loose but didn’t let go. “Did Gisbourne do something to you? Did he touch you?”
I pet his cheek, flushing as a shiver ran through me. “No, no, nothing like that.”
He nodded, kissing my forehead. “Go. I’ll wait a moment and meet you in my chambers, all right?”
Blood pushed harder into my cheeks. My heart beat strange, like a drum played wrong and fast. Meeting him there, when he were whole and hale, under the
cover of night—it felt different now. It were supposed to be the start of many nights alone in his chambers, and instead it were the last.