“Go on,” Marian urged.
“I lived there for years watching other children be adopted one by one, but never me. As time passed, my hope that I might one day have a family again began to dwindle, and soon faded away entirely. One evening, Lord Blackstock showed up at the orphanage and said he wanted to adopt a child. He chose me because he said I looked smart and strong. I was twelve. I should have known it was too good to be true, that no one would ever want me, but somehow I still had hope.”
“He adopted you?”
“Aye. Of course, he was exactly the kind of father you would expect him to be. He was harsh... brutal. He fed me little but gruel and water, forced me to work long hours in his service, beat me when I failed the tasks he gave me. A weaker man would have perished under such circumstances. But not me. I was determined not to let that man break me.”
“Oh, Guy...” Marian said softly.
“When I was fourteen, he had me trained to fight. Well, when I say trained... he had the guards beat me until I learned to fight back. Eventually, I learned to defend myself, and I became the best fighter around. It was around that time that he turned me. I had no idea what he was until that night.”
“Oh, my.”
“The worst part of it, Marian... the worst part...” his eyes glistened as moisture filled them, “was that I couldn’t control my hunger for so long. I killed so many people. I destroyed so many families. And he never even tried to teach me to control it. He thought it was amusing the way I struggled with it. Sometimes, I even enjoyed it, and to watch me struggle was somehow entertaining for him.”
Marian laid her hand gently on his arm.
“Guy, I’m so sorry.”
“Eventually, I learned to control it. But I still have to feed. So I feed on those who have done wrong. I feed on murderers. I feed on men who harass women, on drunks who beat their wives and children.”
“But surely you must know that even that isn’t right,” Marian said.
“Of course I do!” he shouted, but he quickly lowered his voice as the other revelers began to stare. “But what would you have me do, Marian? Die? Do you not understand? If I don’t feed, I will die a slow and painful death. Every single time I feed I am riddled with the guilt. It tears away at me, eating away at my soul. One day there will be nothing left of me but this hollow, soulless monster!”
“But why kill them, Guy? Can’t you just...”
“I can’t.”
“Leave them alive?”
“I have to kill them, Marian. You don’t understand. Once I’ve bitten them, there are only two options. I can either drain them of blood until their heart stops beating, or they turn into a monster like me. Another soulless killer.”
Marian shuddered.
“So... one bite, and they turn into one of you?”
He nodded sorrowfully.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”
“Because you never gave me a chance. Your mind was already made up about me before we even spoke.”
Marian’s head dropped in shame. For as long as she could remember, she’d preached the necessity of giving people the benefit of the doubt. Now, she’d shamed herself greatly.
“Guy, I cannot apologize enough. You are absolutely right. I didn’t give you a chance.”
“It’s all right, Marian. I understand.”
Somewhere in the tree line off the lane, Marian noticed a glint. Her eyes focused, and she saw Robin with his bow raised, poised for a kill. Her hearing dulled, her ears beginning to ring. The world slowed down as if moving in slow motion, her heart thudding sickeningly in her chest.
“No!” she shouted, stepping in front of Gisborne with her arms outstretched.
Robin’s fingers slipped. The twang of the bow echoed, and the arrow sliced through the air. His eyes widened, and his jaw went slack as he realized what he’d done.
Marian felt Gisborne’s icy fingers clutching her arms, attempting to pull her aside. Her body lurched, and mind-numbing pain exploded through her as the arrow sliced into her chest. The jolt knocked her back against Gisborne’s body.
“Marian!” Robin’s shrill cry pierced the air.
She suddenly felt cold. A wave of nausea passed over her. Darkness crept across her line of sight.
“Marian,” Gisborne uttered, catching her as she began to fall.
Into his arms she was swept. Gisborne lifted her limp body into his arms, and she felt herself floating on air.
“Give her to me!” Robin said, his voice muffled and far away.
“You did this!” Gisborne snarled, sounding as though he were standing across the street though he was holding her in his arms.
“Marian!” Robin shouted, his voice an echo.
And then there was only darkness.
The sound of voices awakened her, and she had no idea how long she’d been cloaked in darkness. She strained to listen.
“She was seen multiple times consorting with Robin Hood, Gisborne!” Marian heard the grinding voice of Blackstock snarling outside the door.
“It was a mistake, my Lord,” Gisborne argued. “She would never...”
“You’re a fool!” Blackstock shouted. “She may have pulled the wool over your pathetic eyes, Gisborne, but not mine. That woman has been aiding a known outlaw. And you know what that means.”
“My Lord, no!” Gisborne pleaded. “As her betrothed, I accept full responsibility for her actions!”
“Gisborne, you are walking down a very dangerous path,” Blackstock warned him. “Step aside!”
“No!” Gisborne growled defiantly. “I will not allow it!”
“Have you lost your mind?” Blackstock snarled. “Move out of my way!”
“Never!” Gisborne shouted.
Marian pulled the covers tightly around her chin as she heard a scuffle outside the door. Gisborne and Blackstock exchanged harsh words, and she heard thumping and the scuffling of boots.
“Oh, fine!” Blackstock snarled. “Fine, fine! Have it your way. But you will pay for this, Gisborne!”
Blackstock’s boots clomped loudly down the corridor, and a moment later, the door slowly creaked open. Marian closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, but she kept one eye open ever so slightly.
Gisborne towered above her, watching her carefully. He brushed his fingertips across her forehead, pushing a few strands of hair away.
“Marian?” he whispered.
She stirred, stretching and yawning as though she’d only just woken up.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Better,” she said, but she winced and groaned as she tried to sit up.
Gisborne pushed her gently back down, himself wincing as though he felt her pain.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he told her. “It’s all my fault.”
“No, it’s not,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not your fault at all. It’s mine.”
“What? How can you say that?” he asked, sitting beside her and taking her hand.
Tears filled her eyes as she thought of how she’d lured him there intending Robin to kill him. She hadn’t meant for it to happen—at least not after she’d discovered that he was the one who’d been bringing gifts of food and clothing to the villagers.
“I lured you there,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Robin asked me to do it so he could kill you.”
Gisborne dropped her hand.
“Guy, I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize... I didn’t know... When we set it all up, I thought you were a monster!”
“I am a monster!” he shouted, jumping to his feet.
“No!” she gasped. “No, you’re not a monster! I know that now! Don’t you see?”
“I see the same thing I always see, Marian. When I see myself, my reflection... I see a monster. It’s all I will ever be!”
Marian groaned heavily as she pulled herself weakly to her feet and hobbled over to him. She put her arms around his waist and
laid her head on his shoulder.
“Guy... you’re not a monster. A monster wouldn’t deliver food to starving villagers. A monster wouldn’t risk his life to protect me. You’re not a monster!”
“Then tell me what I am,” he demanded.
“What you are is a good man,” she said, looking deeply into his gray-blue eyes. “What you are is my friend.”
“Friend,” he scoffed. “That is what I am to you? Nothing more than a friend?”
“Guy, I care about you deeply. I took an arrow for you!”
“And you don’t know how I wish that you hadn’t! I would take a thousand arrows to spare you one, Marian! On my honor, that is the truth!”
In a fit of rage, Gisborne clutched the back of a nearby chair and hurled it at the wall. The sound of splintering wood echoed through the room, and shards and splinters clattered to the floor. In an instant, he turned on his heel and fled the room.
“Guy, wait! Guy!” Marian shouted, but it was fruitless. He was gone.
With Gisborne gone, she had no reason to stay. It was time to return to her cottage. Her wound had thankfully not been as bad as it could have been, and she needed to go home. Her father would need her, and she only hoped that Robin or one of the villagers had been caring for him while she was gone.
She told no one she was leaving. She knew they’d only try to stop her. They’d tell her she wasn’t ready, yet. That she wasn’t strong enough, yet. But her father had been alone for too long already. It could have been hours. It could have been days. She had no way of knowing, and there was no one around to ask.
She stopped at the doorway and listened, and when she felt certain there was no one around, she slipped quietly into the darkness.
Marian pushed her pain aside and jogged down the lane toward the cottage. She could see smoke rising from the chimney, and she knew her father must be alright. But she could not slow down. She was too cold, and in too much pain. If she slowed down, she might collapse, and the frigid night air might kill her in her delicate state.
She pushed open the door to the cottage, and she could see that her father was asleep in his chair with a blanket wrapped snugly around him. A fire crackled gently in the hearth, and a half-eaten bowl of stew rested on the table beside him.
“Robin,” she whispered.
She smiled with relief, and stood by the fire to warm herself for a few moments before clearing away the dishes and collapsing weakly into bed.
She was exhausted, but she could not fall asleep. Over and over she heard a voice echoing in her head, speaking things she knew were not true, but he would not believe were anything but.
“I see the same thing I always see, Marian. When I see myself, my reflection... I see a monster. It’s all I will ever be!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The air was chillier than Marian had ever remembered it being. It was frigid to the point of making her bones ache, but she had to see him. She wrapped the cloak—Gisborne’s cloak—more tightly around her shoulders and gritted her teeth against the biting cold.
A knot had formed in the pit of her stomach, twisting and churning, and she had not been able to sleep.
“I see the same thing I always see, Marian. When I see myself, my reflection... I see a monster. It’s all I will ever be!”
Over and over, the words repeated in her mind, burning into her soul. Yes, Gisborne had done terrible things, but perhaps he’d only done them to ensure his own survival. After all he’d been through, she could understand, if only slightly, what might have compelled him to do such things.
And yet he had been trying to atone for his sins. He felt regret. He’d never meant to hurt anyone. He’d simply done what he felt he had to do.
She had to see him. She had to tell him she understood. She needed to convince him that he wasn’t a monster, and that he could still redeem himself. In fact, she now felt it was her purpose to make him see it.
She approached the front gate of the castle. Two guards stood just inside, armed with bows.
“I need to speak with Gu… with Lord Gisborne!” Marian shouted. “It’s urgent!”
The guards exchanged glances, and one drew his bow. The other hesitated.
“No visitors,” said the guard who drew his bow. Marian assumed he was the head guard this night. “Lord Blackstock’s orders.”
“It’s urgent!” Marian repeated. “Please, I… I have news about a possible attack!”
The guards exchanged glances again, and the one who hadn’t drawn his bow said, “Her cloak, Charlie. Look.”
The guard trained his bow on Marian and approached the gate. He peered through it and focused on her cloak.
“That’s Lord Gisborne’s cloak,” he said. “Why does she…”
“She’s the one,” the other guard interrupted him. “The servant girl who’s been betrothed to him.”
The guard with the bow paused, still eyeing her cloak. Marian swallowed hard. Finally, the guard lowered his bow.
“Open the gate,” the guard with the bow told the other.
The gate slowly lowered, and Marian stepped through it.
“Thank you,” Marian said softly.
“Escort her to Lord Gisborne’s quarters,” the head guard told the other. “I’ll find him and bring him there.”
“Then who will watch the gate?” the other guard asked.
“I’ll raise it,” said the head guard, quickly turning the mechanism to close the gate. “It’ll be fine until we get back.”
“You should stay here,” the second guard said. “They’ll have your head if you leave your post.”
“Then who will…”
“I’ll take her with me to find Lord Gisborne,” the second guard interrupted. “Just stay here and watch the gate.”
“Fine, go,” the head guard relented. “Hurry back.”
“Aye,” said the second guard. “Right this way, Miss.”
Marian followed the guard into the building and down a long corridor past Blackstock’s study.
“Excuse me,” Marian said. “Isn’t Lord Gisborne’s…”
“Shh,” the guard whispered, pressing his finger to his lips. “Lord Gisborne… I saw him earlier. He’s… he’s in bad shape, Miss. I didn’t tell anyone because I figured it was private. But… well since you’re to be his wife… He’s this way.”
The guard turned and led her into the courtyard. He pressed his finger to his lips again and slowly pushed open the door to the courtyard. The door creaked slightly and the guard winced, but Marian peeked through the crack and noticed Gisborne sitting on a stone bench in the center of the courtyard, a shaft of moonlight faintly illuminating him. He was limp, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees, a flask clasped in one hand.
Marian mouthed a silent thank you to the guard, who only nodded and quietly walked away. Marian watched as Gisborne lifted the flask to his lips and gulped greedily until the last of the liquid was drained.
“Is this what monsters do at night?” Marian asked.
Gisborne jumped, startled, and dropped the flask. He sprang to his feet and whirled to face her, dragging the back of his sleeve across his lips.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Marian could smell the alcohol on his breath from across the courtyard. Pity filled her heart, and she stepped toward him.
“Don’t come any closer!” he warned her, his eyes momentarily focusing on the cloak she wore—his cloak. “Stay right there.”
“Lord Gis… Guy,” she said, pausing where she stood. “I came because… well…”
“Because you feel sorry for the monster?” he asked, his words slurred.
“No!” she exclaimed. “Not exactly. It’s just… I kept thinking about what you said… that you thought you were a monster and that’s all you’d ever be. I came to tell you that you’re wrong. You…”
“If that’s all you came to say, you can go,” he interrupted her, turning away.
“Guy, I…”
“Guy, please,” she said softly, taking one cautious step toward him. “Let me…”
“I said go!” he shouted, his hands clenching into fists. “Go before you see what kind of monster I really am!” When she didn’t move, he turned to face her, rage contorting his features, fangs glinting in the moonlight and shouted, “Go!”
The Secret of Gisborne: A BBW Shifter Paranormal Romance (House of Gisborne Book 1) Page 14