by N B Dixon
***
Katrina dismissed the groom the moment they arrived back home. “Remember,” she said as he helped her down and took the horse’s bridle, “not a word to anyone, especially my brother, or I’ll make life very difficult for you.”
“Yes, My Lady,” he murmured.
Katrina hurried indoors, taking off her outer riding mantle as she did so. Her heart was thumping with excitement. She had seen Robin. She had actually spoken to him. He’d been suspicious of her at first, and she could hardly blame him after Guy’s behaviour. But he had come round at last. He had agreed to be her friend. Who knew where things would go after that?
She could still feel the warm pressure where his fingers had gripped hers. The memory brought a smile to her lips, which disappeared as her mother’s voice rang out.
“Where have you been?”
Katrina turned. Both her mother and Guy were standing by the hearth, watching her.
“I was out riding,” Katrina said.
“Really?” Guy drawled. “You wouldn’t have been paying a visit to a certain heir of the neighbouring estate, by any chance?”
Katrina met his gaze coolly, but inside, she cursed. How had he known? She’d been so careful. There was no choice but to brazen it out.
“Is that forbidden now?”
“You are not to have anything to do with Robin of Locksley. Need I remind you that he ruined our family?”
“He is your enemy, not mine.” Katrina looked appealingly at her mother. Lady Gisborne’s features had been set like granite, but as Katrina watched, a thoughtful look appeared in her eyes.
“You know, Guy,” she said in a musing tone, “it might not be such a bad idea for Katrina to cultivate Robin’s friendship.”
“In what way could that profit us?” Guy snapped. “I won’t have my sister panting after a Locksley.”
Lady Gisborne rested a hand on Guy’s shoulder. “Think, my son. If Robin can be made to trust Katrina, it will be all the easier to lure him where we want him when the time comes. If Katrina can make him love her, it will make our revenge all the sweeter. His father used and then abandoned me. Now the shoe will be on the other foot. They will both perish.”
Guy’s face split into a wolfish grin. It was odd, Katrina thought with contempt, how easily her brother could be influenced. He thought he had all the power, but a few honeyed words and he was like clay in their mother’s hands.
Her mind raced. She couldn’t let Robin be hurt, but if she pretended to go along with them, it would mean freedom to visit him unchallenged. Robin wouldn’t need to know. It would make his gratitude all the stronger in the end when her brother was unmasked. It was a dangerous game, but she knew she was equal to it.
She chose her next words with care. “He will be mine soon enough.”
Guy rubbed his hands together, for all the world as if it had been his idea. “Excellent. I shall keep my distance to give you time to work. Let him think I have lost interest in him. But remember, we are on a deadline. You must move quickly.”
“These things take time, my son,” Lady Gisborne said. “There is no rushing true love.” Her mouth twisted in a cruel smile. “One way or another, the Locksley estate will be ours.”
***
Robin was in good spirits as he walked along. It had rained hard the night before, turning the road into a muddy bog, but that didn’t worry him. The thought of seeing Lucy again, and this time, being conscious, was worth any discomfort.
His headache had gone, and the swelling had subsided a little, but the bruise was an ugly reminder of his defeat. However, Robin was determined not to let it spoil his plans.
Will had shown nothing but indifference when it came to Lucy. Robin would have expected him to go along with the idea, maybe even to view it as a bit of fun, but Will remained disinterested. Robin had told him about his brief meeting with Katrina, but all Will had said was that Robin was a fool to trust her, and that befriending her would mean nothing good. Robin had no explanation for Will’s sour mood, and he put it from his mind for the time being.
He saw Lucy before she saw him. She had evidently been in the middle of doing some washing. As Robin watched, she squeezed water from the clothes and draped them over a bush to dry.
The garments were few and heavily mended. Robin reckoned there was perhaps one set of clothes per person. His heart twisted. Was this, and the clothes they were wearing, all the miller’s family had in the world? He had enough tunics to clothe the entire village.
He felt awkward. Here he was, paying court to Lucy, when she probably despised him, and why shouldn’t she? He was surrounded by wealth and luxury, while she had almost nothing but the clothes on her back.
Crestfallen, Robin turned to go. He had planned to slip away before she caught sight of him, but too late. She turned and saw him.
“You startled me, Master Robin.”
She was carrying the bucket of water she had used to wash the clothes. In her shock, she had slopped some down the front of her dress.
Well, there was no turning back now.
Robin forced a smile. “I told you to call me Robin. Here, let me take that.” He lifted the heavy bucket out of her hands and went to tip away the contents.
A shriek of laughter made him look round. Lucy’s little brother, along with another boy and girl came rushing past. Lucy’s brother darted under the spreading branches of a huge cedar tree growing near the stream.
“Much, come away from there,” Lucy called. “You, too, Lara and Edward. You’ve been warned not to play there. It isn’t safe.”
The children ran off, giggling. Much waved at Robin as he ran to catch up with his friends, and Robin waved back, smiling. He could remember being that carefree once. It seemed a long time ago.
“My da and mam aren’t here,” Lucy said, drying her hands and the front of her dress on a bit of old sacking.
“I didn’t come to see them. I wanted to make sure you were all right after yesterday.”
She blushed. “I’m fine. We’re all grateful for your help.”
Robin knew she didn’t mean with just Guy and his cronies.
“It was the least I could do.”
She smiled at him. It lit up her face. “Would you like to come in?”
“I’m not interrupting anything?”
She beckoned and Robin followed her inside. His ears were assaulted by the roar and clank of the mill’s machinery. The mill was controlled by water power, which could be manipulated by opening or diverting the flow through the sluice gates. Once the gates were opened, the water wheel turned, which, in turn, operated the millstones that sat one on top of the other. The uppermost stone had a hole in the top through which grain was poured onto the lower stone. As the top stone turned, the grain was ground into flour, which spilled down to be collected and stored in sacks by the miller and his assistants. To stop the operation, the sluice gate had to be closed.
Robin stood for a moment, watching the stones turn. It was an awesome sight, but milling was a dangerous job. It was far too easy to be sucked under the waterwheel and drowned, and those stones could lop off a limb if not handled with care.
Two men, presumably relatives, were hard at work and barely looked up as Robin and Lucy came in. There was no sign of Peter. Robin suspected he was once again whiling away the day in the tavern.
Next door was the shop where the bread was baked. Robin followed Lucy through and watched as she lifted a tray of freshly baked barley loaves from the huge oven. Their mouth-watering smell filled the room. She set them on a table to cool and slid in a fresh tray before dusting off her hands.
“Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
“No thank you,” Robin said quickly. These people had little enough without him taking any of it. “Is there no one to help you?”
“Mam will be back soon.”
“What about the younger boy?”
“Much is not strong. It’s good for him to have some fresh air.”
> Meaning you have all the responsibility of keeping this place going when your parents are out.
“Let me help you.” The words were out before he could stop them, but he meant it.
Lucy stared at him as if he had lost his mind.
“I couldn’t ask you to… I mean, you’re…”
“I’m a friend and I’m offering to help. What can I do?”
She stared at him a moment longer, then seemed to decide he was serious.
“Have you ever made bread before?” She coloured. “Of course you haven’t. I’m sorry.”
“I haven’t, but I can learn.”
So that was how Robin found himself, twenty minutes later, nearly up to his elbows in dough. Lucy declared him a fast learner, but his loaves were nothing like the round, even shape hers were. He was covered in flour and happier than he’d been in a while, though that was due in large part to the pretty girl working alongside him.
Lucy swiped a sleeve across her brow, which was damp with heat from the oven. She inadvertently left a streak of flour behind and it took all of Robin’s self-control not to reach over and brush it away. The fact that she was either unaware of it or didn’t care intrigued him even more. All the girls he knew would have thrown a fit.
“What would Lord Locksley say if he could see you now?” she asked.
“My father has never done an honest day’s work in his life. He has always been content to have others do it for him.”
At that moment, the shop door crashed open to admit Lucy’s father. He stood stock still, surveying the scene.
Robin knew he must look a sight, with his expensive tunic covered in flour. He forced a smile.
“I’ve been lending your daughter a hand. It was the least I could do after her kindness yesterday.”
When the miller continued to look bewildered, Robin went on. “Lucy took me on a tour of the mill. Those are some of the finest millstones I have ever seen—beautifully crafted.”
The miller pulled himself together with an effort. “Yes, Master Robin. They’ve been in my family for three generations.”
“I would prefer it if you’d all call me Robin. This ‘Master’ business is so formal.”
The miller looked, if possible, even more confused. He turned to Lucy. “Run and fetch some water from the well, lass. I can take over from here.”
Deciding it might be best to leave as well, Robin followed her.
“I don’t think your father knows what to make of me,” he said with a grin.
“I’m not surprised.” Lucy collected her bucket and turned to face Robin. “I’ve never known a noble like you before.” She set off, walking quickly and forcing Robin to jog after her. He had the feeling she was embarrassed. Perhaps she thought she had offended him.
“The life of a noble has never appealed to me. I would far rather live a simple life with my bow in my hand and the forest for my home. That is my dream.” Robin sighed. “I know it will never happen. My father has other ideas for me.”
“You should be grateful for what you have,” Lucy told him. “You live in comfort. You’ll never have to worry about where your next meal is coming from or if you can afford this month’s rent.” She reddened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t speak to you that way.”
“No, you are right. I suppose I’m selfish.”
“You helped my family twice,” Lucy said softly. “That’s not what a selfish man would do. I think you will be a different lord than your father. One who cares for his people.”
They had reached the well. Lucy had set down her bucket and was looking at him. Their faces were close.
He leaned in the rest of the way, but before their lips could touch, a strident voice shattered the moment.
“Get away from my sister.”
Robin and Lucy jumped apart. Robin turned in time to see a fist swinging for the side of his head. The blow connected and he staggered. He managed to regain his balance as Lucy shouted.
“Peter, what are you—”
Peter didn’t wait to hear what Lucy had to say. He swung for Robin again. Robin ducked the blow and returned it with one of his own. Peter grunted with surprise and pain. Then he charged. Robin tackled him to the ground. Peter squirmed like an eel, desperate to get free. A torrent of curses poured from his lips, but a little pressure on his windpipe silenced him. Once Robin was sure Peter was subdued, he eased up on the pressure. He was panting for breath, and his head throbbed with fresh pain from the blow Peter had landed. He had a feeling he would have a matching bruise on the other side.
“Do you want to explain what that was about?”
Peter writhed under him. “Let go of me, you bastard.”
Robin was tempted to punch him again. Only Lucy silently watching stopped him. This was her brother, worthless as he might be. Robin hung on grimly. “I can keep you here all day. It is up to you.”
Peter glared up at him. One eye was already blackening, while the other blazed with fury.
“You think that because you’re a Norman, it gives you the right to treat Saxon girls as though they were whores.”
Robin looked down at him coldly. “You don’t know me at all. I might be Norman, but I was born in England just as you were.”
“You’ll never be like us,” Peter spat.
“Peter,” Lucy cut in. “You’re making a mistake.”
“Tell me he wasn’t just about to kiss you.”
“And if he was?” Lucy snapped.
“He’s playing with you,” Peter shouted, renewing his efforts to get away. “He’s just like his father.”
Robin seized a handful of Peter’s hair. Yanking his head up, he brought it down once. The blow stunned Peter, and he stopped fighting. Robin still maintained the grip on his hair.
“Would my father have come to your sister’s aid when fellow nobles were bent on rape and goodness knows what else? Some of them Saxon nobles, I should point out. Would my father have let you off when he caught you poaching?”
“You lords will do anything to get what you want. You believe you’re a cut above the rest of us.”
“That’s enough.” Lucy’s voice cracked like a whip. “Robin, let him go.”
Her voice was so commanding that Robin didn’t argue. He got to his feet, dusting at the grass stains on his tunic. Peter scrambled up, too, and Lucy immediately placed herself between them.
“Maybe you should go,” she suggested, glaring at Robin, for all the world as if it were his fault. “I need to have a talk with my brother.”
Robin didn’t need telling twice. His visit had not gone the way he had planned. Without a word, he walked away.
***
Lucy stood, hands on hips, regarding her brother. His lip was bleeding. One eye was swollen nearly shut. She didn’t care.
“How could you? After everything he’s done for this family, how could you turn on him like that?”
“So, because he helped us, that means he can do whatever he wants?”
“You’re a fool,” she said coldly. “Do you think I’d allow myself to become the pet of some nobleman?”
“That’s exactly what you will be if you let him under your skirts. When he’s finished with you, he’ll move on to the next one, and you’ll be ruined. I was looking out for you.”
“Did it ever occur to you that he might like me?”
Peter scoffed. “You know so little about the world.”
His patronising tone was too much. “I’ll tell you what I do know. Robin of Locksley has done more for this family than you ever managed. Don’t act as if you care about us. You gamble away Da’s hard-earned money and spend your time brawling in some tavern. We owe Robin a debt we can never hope to pay, but I won’t pay it with my body. I’m no one’s tool. If I ‘let him under my skirts’, it’ll be because I want to.”
Stooping, Lucy snatched up the bucket and thrust it at him. “Fetch water. Then you can explain your state to Da.” Without a backward look, she stormed off, fighting back tears as she went.
***
Will glanced up as Robin pushed open the stable door. The skin over one cheekbone was bruised and puffy. He looked livid.
“What happened? Did Guy attack you?”
“No,” came the terse reply.
Will waited. “Well?” he prompted when it looked like Robin wasn’t going to answer.
“I got into a fight with Lucy’s brother.”
Will frowned. “The kid?”
“No, you fool, her older brother. He thought I was taking advantage of his sister.”
“And were you?”
Robin flushed. “Of course not!”
“Well, I’d steer clear of her for a while if I were you. Give her brother a chance to calm down.”
“I paid him back in kind. He’ll think twice before attacking me. Besides,” Robin’s grin flashed, “Lucy was giving him the rough side of her tongue as I left. She certainly didn’t appreciate him coming to her defence.”
Will thought it best to change the subject. “What about Katrina?”
“What about her?”
“It’s as I said before, you’re playing with fire there.”
“How so?”
“Oh, I don’t know, because she’s Guy of Gisborne’s sister?”
“I’m not afraid of Guy.” Robin sauntered off.
Will cursed. He turned back to the mare he had been grooming. She was watching him expectantly. Will took an apple from his pocket and held it balanced on his flat palm. The mare dipped her head and delicately plucked it up. Will stroked her neck as she munched.
Robin was the most stubborn, infuriating person Will had ever met. He would go his own way, no matter what Will said. And why the hell did he care what Robin did, anyway? They might be friends, but they were several rungs apart on the social ladder.
Will shook his head. He knew Robin wasn’t like that. He didn’t strut around like all the other lads his age as if he owned the sun and stars. He helped those less fortunate whenever he could. It was why Will liked him. Still, Robin’s good heart would get him into trouble one day, and, Will thought ruefully, likely he would be dragged along for the ride.