“No,” I said as he crossed the threshold. “No bloodletting.”
The man’s mouth dropped. “My—my lady, his humours must be brought into balance.”
“Poultices, tinctures are fine. No bloodletting.”
Rob squeezed my hand tight.
The healer’s chest puffed. “With respect, my lady, his Grace instructed me to bring the young man to full health.”
“You bring a knife near his skin and I will have it at your throat,” I snapped.
He went red and started sputtering, but Rob managed a weak chuckle. “Please, my lord, denying her wishes would be much more hazardous to my health.”
“If the lady would remove herself,” the healer said, “I must examine his lordship.”
“I’m no lord,” Rob said. “And I would like you to look at her hand first.”
The man’s eyebrows what were thicker than the feathers of a ruffled chicken rose up, but he didn’t say anything as I drew the hand slow out of the sling. He unwrapped the wet bandages careful, and when he were done he looked at my face in a way full different than he had before.
He handed me the pain tincture. “Several drops of this should help, my lady,” he said grave.
I shook my head, but Rob sat up, sliding one arm around my waist and taking a dropper full with the other hand. He held it up and I opened my mouth as he tapped it in. I shut my eyes against the taste and turned full against him as the healer put a salve to the wounds that looked sick already.
It were so raw and sore that his touches hurt more than the cut what did it. To my horror I started to sob, but Rob held me tight, squeezed against him.
When it were done, I were shaking violently and Rob held me, kissing my cheek and temple and hair. “Go on,” he said after a moment. “Rest. You need it.”
“I’ll come back,” I promised him.
He nodded, kissing my cheek once more.
Careful to walk proper out of the room so Rob wouldn’t worry, I near collapsed outside the door, and one of the guards caught me in his arms. “My lady,” he said. “His Grace asked me to see you back to your chambers.”
I nodded, fair grateful. It seemed miles back to my room. We started walking and I were more grateful for the earl’s care when I fainted dead in the hall.
When I woke, it were to a soft, metal noise and the cracking of fire. I were in the bed I didn’t like, and my whole body felt like a sack of flour. I struggled to sit up in the bed; the day-old dress had been taken off me and I was just in the long, loose gown, deep under blankets and warm.
Gisbourne were near the fire, and I could see the glint of steel as his whetstone passed over the sword, sharpening the blade careful and slow.
“Do you care to tell me where you were this afternoon?” he asked, not turning to me.
“A healer checked my hand.” Which did feel much duller, now.
“The earl’s healer.”
“Yes.”
“And how did you come by that?”
I sighed. “I reckon you know just where I were, Gisbourne.”
The whetstone stopped. “Yes.”
Pushing from the bed were awkward with one hand, but I struggled free of it and went for the other chair by the fire. “Did you win the melee?”
He tossed his sword down so it clattered loud. It were meant to intimidate me, I think, but I were far beyond such. “Does this marriage mean nothing to you, Marian?”
I frowned at him. “Of course it doesn’t. You knew that from the first.”
“Then why come here at all?” he growled.
“Did you hit your head?” I demanded. “The annulment. All I’ve ever wanted were the annulment.”
“And to make a fool of me!” he roared, throwing himself back in the chair.
“I never lied about what and who I am. You knew that. You brought me here. If I make you a fool, it ain’t my fault.” I tucked my legs up, cold and simmering with anger. “Fool indeed. But what the hell is wrong with you, that you defy the prince to protect me in one moment—what, so your honor remains intact?—and then help him cut off my damn fingers the next?”
He stood, scooping up the sword and slamming it into its scabbard and throwing it on the bed. “Because there is one line I won’t cross—and that’s the whole reason I agreed to this exercise in idiocy to start with. You think you were my first choice, Marian? You think I was desperate to marry Leaford’s younger, uppity daughter? With an unmarried, beautiful older sister hanging about?”
This stole my breath. “You wanted Joanna?”
“Wanted? No. Hell no. But why would I take you over her, hmm? She was stunning, graceful, sweet—she would have bent very well to my hand. So why you?”
My lip curled at the thought of him raising a hand to Joanna. “You never wanted either of us from the start. You wanted Isabel. It’s obvious every time you look at her, Gisbourne—”
“Use my given name!” he screamed. He stepped over to me, catching my throat, but not squeezing, not hurting me. “Say it,” he said. “Say my given name. You are my wife, Marian. Use my given name.”
With unblinking eyes, I stared at him. I had lost fingers to his master; his threats seemed hollow and idle now.
He shook his head with a sad, helpless laugh. His hand left my throat to catch my cheek, looking at the fading bruises there. His rough, calloused thumb ran over the cut by my lip. “You won’t, will you? I can beg you and break you and you won’t do a damn thing I ask.”
It seemed wise not to answer that.
His thumb went to the scar, testing it, feeling its depth and the odd jumble of skin and scar under the surface. “You are the most unnatural, vexing woman, Marian.” He tilted my chin farther up. “You didn’t scream once last night.”
“I told you,” I said quiet. “I’m not afraid of your pain. Or his.”
His thumb ran over my mouth, and I went tense. “I am,” he admitted. “But it’s his bribes that are so much darker and alluring.”
“Is that why you married me, Gisbourne?” I asked. “He bribed you?”
He nodded, and my breath left me.
“Why?” I asked. “Why would he ever? How would he know of me at all?”
His hand left my face. “You’re like a wild horse, Marian. Utterly untamable, unassailably noble. No—not a horse.” He chuckled and looked at me. “A lion,” he said. “And you are the fool in truth if you don’t know what that means. Why it is the one thing that means the prince can’t kill you and the one reason he will always want to. Why you are dangerous to him.”
“Eleanor said he can’t kill me because he has royal blood. Godly blood.”
His grin was wicked and dark. “I can’t kill you, Marian, and I have no royal blood. Hell, I barely count as noble. But to kill you would be to defy God himself—not to mention Eleanor.”
“I don’t understand.”
He laughed, and I stood.
“Tell me! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” My voice raised dangerous close to a shriek.
He began stripping off his clothing, not answering me.
“Gisbourne!” I yelled again.
“Your parents have come to the castle,” he said after a moment, stripping off his tunic. “They expect an audience with you tomorrow morning.”
“My …” I dropped into the chair. My parents. I had been so long gone from them it seemed easy not to think of them at all. A thousand thoughts twisted through my mind. Did they hate me? Were it all forgotten and forgiven now I had done what they first asked? How would I explain leaving them at the first?
Christ, how would I explain Joanna?
He chuckled. “I thought that might shut you up.”
Chapter Nineteen
When I woke up, Gisbourne were sleeping and there were early, gray sun in the room. I called for Mary and when she set about pulling fabric round the bandaged hand, she stopped but didn’t say nothing. Gisbourne grunted and sat up in bed, watching me and yelling for Eadric.
&nbs
p; My head were running fast, thinking on my parents. What would I say? How could I possibly say anything? What if my parents wanted to know—anything. Everything.
“You’re quiet,” Gisbourne said.
How much time had passed? I weren’t sure. He were dressed. I realized Mary weren’t flitting about, and I were dressed too. “Thinking,” I said.
He went to his coffers, shuffling through until he found something. It were a long, black-sheathed boot knife. He drew it half out and showed me a wicked-looking blade. He pushed it back in the sheath and tossed it to me. I caught it and looked at it; I couldn’t even draw it out of the sheath the way my hand were bandaged, so I just stared at him.
“Does that help?” he said.
Silent, I nodded slow.
He nodded once, sharp. “Good.”
And then he left.
I wedged it into the edge of my kirtle in the back, hoping it would hold snug enough that I could pull just the blade with one hand. Not that I expected to draw a knife on my parents; having it near me, a reminder of who I really were, helped in true.
It were strange both that Gisbourne knew it and allowed it.
I went out behind him, starting for my parents’ chamber. Sucking in a breath, I changed my mind.
I went to Rob’s room, and the guards let me in without a word or a harsh look. He were awake, lying in bed, and he half sat up, looking at me.
“Scarlet,” he murmured.
I came forward without a word, tucking myself into the bed beside him. I laid on his chest and shut my eyes, trying to wish the world away. His heartbeat were leaping out at me, beating into my skin till my heart beat back, matching the tune.
“I slept,” he marveled to me. His lips touched my forehead. “All night, as far as I know.”
I pressed my face to his chest and let my eyes close. “The sword fights are today,” I said. “Individual matches.”
His neck bobbed a bit as I felt him nod. “And I’ll fight,” he told me soft. “There’s no running.” His hand dragged along my back. “Or, rather, I could always run—but I want to fight for you more than I want to run.”
Inching up, I raised my face to kiss him. I shut my eyes into it, trying to forget what would happen today, for him and me both. “Just lose in the sword, Rob,” I told him. “You don’t need the prizes or the money. You only need to win the archery for sheriff. Anything more ain’t worth the bruises, the punishment.”
He sighed. “Maybe. Will you be there?” he asked. His nose nudged my cheek. “You should probably stay warm and rest.”
I took a breath like could draw his strength into me. “My parents are here. They want to see me.”
“Your parents?” he asked, looking at me.
Lying on his chest felt like home. “I don’t know what to say to them.”
“I visited them,” he said soft.
I pushed up off him. “What?”
“After you married Gisbourne. He became the landholder, and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t hurting them. You would have never forgiven yourself if he had, and my father always liked your parents. I spoke to them. I never told them I knew you.”
Blinking, I stared at him. “And?”
“They were lovely people. They’ve kept their lands well and protected their tenants from the worst of the taxes. They were very kind to me.” He swallowed and touched my cheek. “I had this fantasy that I could return to ask them for your hand in marriage and explain I’d been protecting you from harm when they hadn’t been able to. They would hug me and tell me that if they weren’t there to love you, they were glad I had been.”
My chest felt tight to bursting, and before I could stop it, tears ran down to kiss his hand. “I love you, Rob,” I told him, swooping in to kiss him.
“I love you too,” he told me. “Go, before anyone discovers you here.”
I kissed him once more, the kind of kiss that burned through me and made my whole heart fill with him.
Leaving Rob, I went to the room the servants told me were my parents’, and I stood outside. Then I paced. Then I stopped, for pacing made me dizzy, and stood there still.
I left. I had no idea what to say to them.
I had missed the first several sword fights, but Isabel informed me that Gisbourne destroyed his first opponent. Eleanor quietly let me know that Rob won his first contest as well. My heart were still pounding at the idea of talking to my parents, and it took long for it to quiet.
Gisbourne came up again and turned to the prince to bow. He caught my eye and frowned.
His partner were de Lacy, and I found that I were hoping my husband crushed the man who called me a wild animal the first night at court.
Gisbourne came at him hard. He were all power, my husband; fierce and overwhelming, but no speed and little finesse. He had footwork when he needed it, but it weren’t his skill. He knocked the sword out of de Lacy’s hand and gave him a moment to reach for it when he brought the heel of his boot down hard on de Lacy’s other hand, stretched flat on the ground.
Despite the pain, it gave de Lacy the space to grab his sword and bring it up to Gisbourne’s neck. The match was over; de Lacy had won.
“Quite cunning,” the queen mother murmured to me.
“My husband?” I asked. “He lost.” I looked back to the field where de Lacy nursed his hand and sucked in a breath. Gisbourne had sacrificed the fight to take out de Lacy’s hand—because de Lacy were favored in the archery, from what I heard. While he could still use a sword with his right hand, he could never hold a bow without them both. “Cunning indeed,” I muttered.
De Clare were next, fighting a man named Doncaster who I didn’t recognize. Doncaster were a heavy brute, and he were beating de Clare quite roundly when someone stepped in front of me. “My lady wife,” Gisbourne grunted. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Where is that, my lord Gisbourne?” Eleanor asked.
“Her parents have arrived, and she has yet to greet them.”
I looked to Eleanor for some excuse, but she gave none, save for losing a precious little bit of her color. Her mouth fell into a thin line. “Yes. You must speak to them, my dear. They must have … missed you, after so long.” Her voice had fallen quiet and low.
“My lady?” I asked soft. “Are you all right?”
Her chin raised. “Just cold. I think I shall retire.” She waved her hands for her ladies, and they set about readying a sled that would take her back up to her rooms.
Gisbourne took my hand and pulled me up. He put my hand in his arm and escorted me back to the castle, not saying a word the whole way there. I didn’t say nothing on his loss, neither.
He brought me to their door, knocked, and let go of me only when the servant answered the door and ushered me into their chamber.
They were sitting by the fire in two chairs, and they stood up the moment the servant announced me. My eyes went to my mother first. Tall and long with hair like wheat on willows, she looked so painful like Joanna my eyes sprang with tears. I blinked it back. My father were there, his handsome face older, his strong body softer by a hair.
He came to me first, cupping my face in his hands and looking at the bruises, my hair, judging me. His eyes closed with a sigh. “Marian,” he said.
I wanted to tear away from him and run, run from his judgment and whatever he thought of my strange looks. My mother came over, covering her mouth as she started to cry. “Oh, my darling girl. I had hoped—I thought maybe, when you ran, you would learn to obey. I didn’t want—I didn’t want—” She shook her head. “My sweet!”
My father grunted. “I will speak to him, Marian. He must have patience with you, if you are to learn to be a good wife.” He rubbed my mother’s back. “Dear, it’s all right. Come, there is much more to talk about.”
My father reached forward, taking my good hand like he’d done when I was a little girl. He patted it and brought me over to the fireplace, letting me sit in the chair while he sat on the hearth before m
e. “There is much to hear, Marian.”
I nodded slow, my mouth dry like week-old bread. “I-I know,” I said.
“Where have you been?” my mother wailed. “Why didn’t you write? Didn’t you ever think—” She started crying again.
My father ignored her. “Start at the beginning,” he said. “Why did you leave us? Was it Joanna’s idea?”
“It was my idea,” I admitted, shame making my words slow but proper. “Neither one of us wanted to marry, but she would have done as you asked. When I said I wanted to run away, she wouldn’t let me go alone.”
My mother bent. “She has always loved you so very much,” she moaned.
“Where did you go?” my father asked. “How on earth did you manage, two girls on your own?”
“We went to London. Joanna took some coin she had saved, and we used that at first.”
“Who took you in London?” my father demanded, his face folding into a scowl. “What blackguard sheltered you and didn’t tell me of it?”
“We rented a room,” I told him, my voice tiny.
“A room?” my mother repeated.
“Like a—” My father didn’t dare finish the sentence.
“We managed,” I said quick, trying to keep my mind from wheeling into those days. “We managed.”
“How did you manage?” he snapped. “Did you sell yourselves? Is that what my daughters have become? Scarlet women?”
I flushed at the name. “We stole,” I said. I would never tell them what Joanna did at night to manage. I would never tell no one that.
He jumped to his feet. “Stole! Like criminals!”
My mother’s wail distracted him, and he stood by her, rubbing her back.
“I was an exceptional thief,” I told him, squaring my shoulders. “So good that Robin Hood asked me to join his band. And I’ve been doing that ever since. Helping people. Saving people.”
“There is nothing exceptional about a woman of noble birth embracing a criminal life,” he told me. “Nothing! And just how long have you been here? How long have you lived half a day’s ride from us and we never knew?”
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