But Marian intervened. “Robin, what are you doing here?” she asked, frightened. Will’s face had gone from blank and cold to deadly furious. Why had Robin been so foolish as to come back to the keep?
She moved closer to him, as if to block him from Will . . . an odd thing, she realized belatedly, for ’twas Robin who had the blade and not the sheriff.
“The prince? It looks as though he had some assistance,” Robin said cuttingly. “Am I to believe he acted alone, without the help of his black cohort the sheriff?” He was looking, not at her, but at the half-dressed Will, and he still held the knife as if prepared to use it.
Will muttered something foul under his breath and Marian felt the loathing rolling off him. “Take care at whom you throw accusations, Locksley.”
“Robin-” Marian started to plead, but she was cut off.
“What has happened?” he asked again, still looking at Will.
“Naught as of yet, but ’tis not for lack of trying.” Now Will glanced at her, eyes glittering black. “Mayhap you wish to cover yourself, Lady Marian.”
Marian looked down and saw that with her sudden movement toward Robin, the cloak had slipped and caught on the edge of a trunk. The fabric gaped wide open, clearly displaying her state of undress. She gathered the edges together, wondering, What did it matter? Will had seen all there was to see, and Robin had felt most of it.
“Naught has happened, you say?” Robin said, lifting his chin belligerently at Will. “Then how came she-”
“Robin,” Marian began again, more frantically. She grabbed his arm, pulling him back, ignoring the further slip of her cloak. The expression on Will’s face frightened her, and Robin’s bravado was not assisting matters. He must get out of here before the sheriff arrested him.
How could he have been such a fool?
“Cover yourself, Marian,” Will ordered, then grabbed her by the arm and yanked her from his path. She stumbled but caught herself against the wall, pulling the cloak tighter.
“Will,” she tried. “Please don-”
He turned on her, lips so tight they were white at the edges. “Do not be a fool, Marian. I am not about to slay your lover in these chambers.”
“Slay me?” Robin snorted. “How? You have no weapon.” He looked pointedly at Will’s simple attire.
“If I chose to put you in your grave, I would need no weapon. So I suggest you leave before your presence here is found out.”
“Mayhap Lady Marian shall accompany me back to Sherwood,” Robin said, moving now too. The next thing she knew, he had his arm around her belly, and the knife blade at her throat. “I trow I can keep her from the hands of John better than his cohort the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire.”
Marian wasn’t the least bit frightened of the dagger at her throat; it was Will and his black look she feared. For a moment, he looked as though he might lunge forward, knife or nay . . . and then the feral light died from his eyes to be replaced by a malicious gleam.
“Aye,” he said. “If the lady is kidnapped and taken by the outlaw Robin Hood, not only will she be safe from the lecherous eyes of the prince . . . but I shall also be obliged to gather up every able-bodied man to flush the outlaw and his band from the forest. I am certain you would wish for that.”
Robin’s fingers had slipped between the edges of the cloak, and she felt his warm hand on her belly . . . and then up to brush over her breast. She snatched in a little intake of breath and resisted the urge to stomp his foot. Instead of trying to escape when cornered, he did naught but taunt his enemy and play games.
“But you know they will never find us,” Robin said, inching her a bit toward the door. “You may send all of the king’s men into the forest and never flush us out.” Behind the neatly trimmed beard and mustache beamed a sly smile, clearly taunting his opponent. His fingers brushed the underside of her breast, and a thumb slipped up over her nipple. She remained rigid, despite the fact that he caused a little tingle to rise.
By the saints, she knew how to put an end to this standoff.
“You are the veriest of fools, Locksley,” Will said in a biting voice. “You would risk the safety of your lady and her reputation by openly making her your consort, your accomplice. And would you then be willing to allow her to hang from the scaffold next to you?”
Judging the moment right, Marian pulled free from Robin-after all, his hold was more for show than for anything else-and whirled toward Will. ’Twas unfortunate . . . or mayhap not so unfortunate . . . that her captor had been holding the cloak more tightly than he’d gripped her person. The covering slipped from her body as she moved, leaving her once again clothed only in a swirl of hair.
“God’s teeth, Marian,” Will snarled as Robin simply stood there, holding the sagging cloak.
