“Robin, you fool,” she cried, “go!” She flung herself at Will, knowing that while she had little chance of stopping him by force, she might befuddle him enough that Robin could escape. She slammed against him, causing nary a jolt to his stance, but knocking the breath from her lungs and acquiring the sharp dig of a wayward elbow. His hands automatically closed around her arms, steadying her.
“Blast,” Robin said lightly, indeed slipping past her toward the door, “ ’tis a hardship to leave that sight. But I am not the fool you think I am, Nottingham. Until the morrow, sweeting,” he said to Marian-and he was gone.
Will fairly shoved Marian away from him, but to her vast relief, he did not rush out the door after the outlaw. She would have launched herself at him if he had, little good though that would do.
“I should have sent you with him,” he said, looking down at her with a very different expression. “Marian, for the rood’s sake, cover yourself.” This time the command sounded more like a plea than an order.
Realizing she was not only breathing heavily but very naked, Marian backed away from Will and reached for a fur from the bed to gather it up in front of her. The fox felt silky and luxurious against her bare skin.
“Mayhap he is right. Though he is an outlaw, you would be out of the prince’s reach if you hid with them in the forest,” Will said in the softest voice she’d heard him use.
And then, without another word, he turned and strode out. “Lay the bolt,” he ordered, pausing in the antechamber, then exited into the passage.
Marian moved to comply, peeking out after him to ensure that Robin had gone, and that Will was not giving chase. The hall was empty but for the figure of a half-clothed Nottingham, striding smoothly away without a backward look.
She bolted the door, once again annoyed by the absence of her maid, and retired to the inner chamber.
Will’s words gave her pause. She could go with Robin. Stay with him, be with him. They would likely become lovers . . . and she would leave behind the threat of the prince.
But Will would come after them, even more fiercely than before. He had the right of it: the gentry would be incensed by the abduction of a noblewoman by the bandits. And if she admitted her desire to be with Robin, not only would she then be regarded as an outlaw and thus subject to the reach of the law . . . but she would no longer be in Ludlow, able to spy on John for the queen, and on Will, for Robin himself.
Not that, Marian admitted, she’d yet found anything of import to tell the queen. Or to help Robin. When in John’s presence, she’d spent more time in a state of unease or discomfiting arousal than anything else.
Nay, much as she might wish to be with Robin, she could not go. She must stay in the keep, within reach of the grasp of the prince.
And Will.
CHAPTER 9
A lys of Wentworth pulled the cloak’s hood up and over her head, hurrying through the hall. Empty of diners and drinkers, the vast room offered shelter to the half dozen hounds twitching and groaning by the fireplaces near the dozing serf boys charged with keeping the blazes going. A man-at-arms well beyond his cups slumped in one corner, and another, propped up on the trestle table by naught but his nose, snored loudly.
Long past vespers, hours since the evening meal had finished, the night was fading toward dawn. It had been a tiring day, and Alys was quite ready for her bed.
It had begun with the wild hunt, and all the gossip of Robin Hood . . . and then for her to have been so unfortunate as to fall into the clutches of his men! Of all the things to have happened when Sandy threw a shoe. And then for the blackhearted rogue to steal a kiss from her . . . but most of all, to believe she might actually welcome it!
She pursed her lips as her fury at Robin Hood and his silly games rose anew. A bandit with a love for himself so great that it threatened to explode his head! So foolish of him to have crept into the keep last night. Why would he travel into the nest of the very hawk that wished to devour him?
’Twas simple. . . . He believed he would not be caught! Well, he would have a fine surprise if he ever accosted her in the keep. Joanna of Wardhamshire might giggle and blush at his kisses, but Alys had no misconceptions. The man was an outlaw, and he must be made to face the laws of the land.
As had happened throughout the day since her escape from Robin Hood, Alys felt the anger boiling inside her. A slick, cowardly bandit slipping through the night, stealing from good people-why, her friend Lady Marian had nearly lost her belongings to the outlaws! And then to make light of it by-
A faint noise from the shadows startled her. She paused, heart thumping, and looked . . . but saw nothing. Raising her chin at her foolishness, Alys continued on along the rear passageway of the keep toward the staircase that led to the second floor.
