weak, but he felt more alive and awake than he had for years. “Does he know that I am here?” he asked the maid sharply.
“I have not told anyone of your presence,” she said. “As you ordered, my lady. ’Tis just that the news has come from below that he is looking for you.”
“Aye,” Will said, relieved at that bit of information. He looked at the maid, whose name he would someday have to learn. “I task you to bring this day the meals to my lady, for she is ill and is not to be disturbed.”
He dressed quickly and left, reluctant, but knowing that Marian would be safe as long as he spread the word she was ill and she remained in the chamber.
John received him in his private chambers, which in the light of day appeared tawdry and base. The stink of illness, plus old wine and coupling, permeated the well-lit space, reminding Will yet again of how fortunate he was to have found more than the mere act of coupling with Marian.
The prince wasted no time. Having fully recovered from his illness, he was possessed of great energy and plans. “Robin Hood shall be hung,” he began. “On what day?”
“A sennight hence,” Will told him, presuming that the queen would have arrived by then and all would be sorted out. But now that Locksley had gone away, it didn’t really matter whether the outlaw was identified as Robin Hood.
“Good. Aye, ’tis a good thing that he has been captured at last. And now you must find the rest of his men. Go you into the forest and round them up. Without their leader, I trow it shall be as simple as coddling a babe.”
“Aye, my lord,” Will said. He’d go into the forest, but Robin and his men would be long gone. He’d return with the tale and evidence of the dispersal of the outlaws, and all would be settled.
While he was in the forest, he would set a watch for the approach of the queen’s traveling wagons. The sooner he learned of her approach, the better he’d feel.
“At once, Nottingham. I have waited much too long.”
“Aye, my lord,” Will said, keeping his voice easy and mellow as always. “I will attend to it at once.”
Just as he was about to dismiss him, John lifted his hand and beckoned. A large man-at-arms appeared from the door of the chamber. “I shall send Jem with you. He is quite handy with the sword, and I do not wish for any of those outlaws to escape.”
Will felt a prickle of unease down his spine. John had never bestirred himself to send any of his men with him before. But he merely nodded and smiled as if privileged that a royal servant would assist him in his task.
Yet as he left John’s chambers, the muscular Jem behind him, the back of Will’s neck felt exposed. He gripped his sword’s hilt unobtrusively, knowing he must remain on his guard. When they reached the bridge from the inner yard to the village, Will paused and spoke with the watchman so that he could measure Jem for a moment.
“Any sign of approaching travelers? Large trains with great amounts of baggage?” Will asked, eyeing the prince’s man. He carried a long sword and a leather-bound shield, the latter of which was not only unnecessary but unwieldy when tracking outlaws in the wood. Either he did not know any better, or he had been ordered to do so.
Will’s sense of unease lifted a notch and he did a quick scan of the bailey as he continued his conversation with the watchman.
“Nay, my lord sheriff. Naught but a small group of a dozen men coming from the east. They are traveling quickly, but do not appear to be a threat.”
Will nodded absently, for he’d just seen Bruse, Marian’s master-at-arms, crossing the yard. He hailed him and pulled quickly away from Jem before the other man could think to follow him and listen in.
“Your lady. Keep close with her. She is very ill and cannot be disturbed,” was all Will had a chance to say before Jem approached.
Bruse’s sharp eyes met his, and Will saw understanding and determination. Aye. Good.
Then he swung away, Jem and four of the sheriff’s other men following as they went off into the forest.
The back of Will’s neck still itched. He might be in danger, but Marian would be safe.
Marian dared not leave her chamber, but she found the space confining after Will left. She worked on a piece of embroidery that had long suffered neglect, and then found herself pacing the room.
The sun was high in the sky, warming the chamber as much as it ever could, when the door opened. There stood Prince John, with a goggle-eyed Ethelberga cowering behind him.
“Ah, Lady Marian,” he said in his smooth voice. “I see that, contrary to rumor, you’ve recovered from your illness quite well. I’m delighted that you’re feeling better, for I no longer have to delay my congratulations to you for winning the golden arrow.”
He extended his arm in an offer that she could not refuse.
She did not even have the chance to retrieve the sleeping draught that Alys had made for her, for John took her arm and escorted her quickly from the chamber.
CHAPTER 18
“Why, Lady Marian, you seem a bit reluctant,” John said. He had seated her on the edge of the massive bed and now stood in front of her.
It was the middle of the day, an hour past the midday meal. That fact alone made her feel out of sorts, for she’d never been summoned to John’s apartments other than at night. A single guard had been posted outside the door, and other than she and the prince, there was no other person present in the chambers. It felt odd to be in this place of hedonism in the full sunlight, with all its accoutrements showing in full, garish detail. The empty restraints, the massive bed with the curtains pulled away, the table of half-eaten food and drink and its array of crumbs and crusts and spills. The heavy smells of profligacy seemed particularly foul in the full light of day.
Marian swallowed and tried to appear as if the very thought of John’s hands on her didn’t make her skin crawl with revulsion. She looked up at him, at his greedy dark eyes and full red lips, and kept her face blank.
“I am reluctant, my lord,” she said. Had a woman ever told him nay? Mayhap he thought she was willing, or, at the least, not averse to sharing his bed. After all, he was the prince and likely heir to the throne. Most women would not complain at the chance for the wealth, privilege, or power that came with being a royal mistress.
“Is that so?” he asked, reaching to touch her hair. She hadn’t bound or otherwise confined it, and now it streamed over her shoulders and pooled on the bed. “I am sorry for that, for ’tis much more enjoyable with a willing partner.”
“My lord, please. I am flattered by your kindness and your attentions, but I pray, please release me. I have no desire to share your bed.” There. She’d spoken plainly. If he had any conscience, he would release her.
“ ’ Tis a disappointment that you feel thus, Lady Marian,” he said, stepping closer to her. His leg brushed her gown and the wayward edge of his tunic’s hem curled atop her lap. “For I shall not release you.”
His hands cupped the top of her skull and smoothed down over the long strands of hair along her shoulders and arms.
“Please, my lord.”
“Stand,” he ordered, his tone brisk and his eyes bright, as he pulled her to her feet. “I would see you clothed in naught but your hair.”
Marian stood reluctantly, and glanced toward the chamber door. Will could not know she was here. He was busy with his duties and thought her safely in her chamber.
But what could he do about it, in any event, if he knew?
In fact, it would be best if he did not know.
The realization struck her then. If Will found out she was here with the prince, he would react angrily, possibly violently. He’d already said it: There is naught I can do but violence.
Violence against the prince? That would be treason and would destroy his honor. Either he’d die or he might as well be dead, for he’d abhor himself for turning against his liege.
