But today, on this bright and sunny morning in late September, William de Wendeval was particularly aware of the fear and dislike emanating from behind doors and stable walls, for he saw it through the eyes of those who rode with him.
Most of the ladies of the court were intimidated and avoided him. Some of the men respected his father and had known Will himself before he became sheriff, but since his association with John they’d become cool and reserved. Will felt their defection more acutely than the coolness of the women, for some of the noblemen that had withdrawn their friendship were men that he’d particularly liked. And as for women. . well, there were plenty of maidservants willing to part their legs for a bauble or coin, and they were far less likely to have possessive husbands or a need to be wooed.
The hunting party had ridden from the keep’s stables through the bailey area, which was enclosed by massive, high walls topped by crenellations, and then over its surrounding moat. That had brought them to the narrow streets of the little town that sprawled beyond, protected by its own walls.
Now, as they neared the raised portcullis of the village’s gate, the sound of hunting horns filled the air. The horses pricked up their ears and increased their gait as the dogs began to bay in enthusiasm.
Although he’d arranged the activity, John had declined to join them this morning. He’d been lethargic of late (as evidenced by the early end to his night last evening), and sent them off without him with the instruction to bring back a boar and some harts for dinner.
For a moment Will had expected to be asked to stay behind as well, but John was distracted by a traveling metalsmith who claimed to have word from the king’s army in Jerusalem. Will suspected the man merely wished to show the prince his wares, but he took the opportunity to slip from the morning meal before John could speak to him.
Now that they were leaving the town, Will let Cauchemar loose, ready to feel the wind on his face. They were the first to cross the bridge out of town. For a man trained to battle-and one who preferred riding, jousting, and hunting to indoor activities-the role of sheriff during a time of relative peace could be stifling. Today, he meant to unleash the energy and frustration that had been building inside of him, particularly for the last sennight.
He hoped Robin Hood wouldn’t be so foolish as to make an appearance today, for it would truly try his patience.
Cool shadows and the pleasant smell of damp soil and leaves enveloped him as he entered the woods, and not for the first time he envied Robin Hood his freedom to roam the forest. Mayhap “freedom” was a poor choice of word, for the man was a wanted outlaw. . yet despite that, he did have liberties denied Will, who must fulfill his duties and retain his honor.
Will yearned to go deeper into the trees, to let go and ride on forever, away from duty and honor and green-eyed ladies. . but of course he could not, so he turned Cauchemar in a wide circle and cantered back to join the others.
As he approached, a gay laugh caught his ear and pulled his eyes to Marian, who rode in the middle of the group. This day she wore a green gown lushly embroidered with gold and white along its wide sleeves and a wide hem that fluttered along the side of her mount. Beneath this gown the tight arms of her bliaud were light blue, as was the veil pinned to her brilliant hair. Only a narrow swatch of the copper tresses showed at the top of her forehead, for the rest were bundled demurely up and behind, rounding generously beneath the veil.
A lot of hair, she had. He could almost feel the weight of it in his hands.
He looked forward to seeing it unbound, swirling around her hips, in all its fiery glory. ’Twas only a matter of time until he did.
Marian hadn’t hunted for more than a year, and she was eager to be in the woods. The hounds had scented something already, and with answering shouts of excitement, the party started off. She rode next to Sir Roderick, who’d looked at her in surprise when he saw the longbow and quiver she wore over her shoulder. She’d had to assure him she had no intention of using them for a boar.
“Of course I shouldn’t use this flimsy weapon for a great beast like that,” she said, laughing with the delight of the day. “ ’ Tis only for a hare or mayhap a deer if should I be so fortunate as to spy one.”
“But you will stay far from the boar in any case,” Roderick cautioned.
“I shall indeed, for I value my own neck!” She laughed again.
At that moment, the dark figure of William de Wendeval emerged from the shadows of the forest, cantering in their direction after having galloped off ahead of the group moments ago.
Already a tall, imposing man, he appeared even more forbidding on the massive horse, with his wide shoulders, hawk nose, and unrelieved dark clothing. Though the standard of Nottingham was embroidered along the edges of his tunic, those colors were muted: dark blue and green on black, with only a smattering of burgundy in the design.
He looked directly at her as she laughed, and Marian felt her gaiety quelled. Would he come over to her, publicly claiming her as he’d done last night?
Will’s actions last evening in the great hall had not been commented on by any of her companions, and although it was likely a futile wish, she hoped that none of them had been able to see who it was that the sheriff had backed up against the wall. Many of them had been facing the high table or the center of the hall, where the jongleurs were still playing, and his large body may well have blocked sight of her own. . from everyone except the prince.
Marian turned away from Will’s gaze, which had lingered heavily. She pushed aside the awareness of what they’d shared last evening, and slammed her heels into the sides of her horse, ready to leave the thoughts-and him-behind.
She took off after the hunters who barreled through the woods, fast and furious, following the hounds as they ran down their prey. When the boar was sighted, shouts and cries rose from the men, who’d followed more closely than the ladies-for ’twas only a fool who came too close to the murderous red-eyed beasts without a spear to thrust home. Ladies did not have the strength to drive one through the tough brindle of the fast and furious boar.
As the men charged off, the women rode along together at a less frantic, yet still exhilarating, pace that allowed them the opportunity to gossip and chat. The tiny Alys rode next to Marian, who on her other side found Lady Joanna, who seemed to be particularly smug this day.
“And he wrapped this around my wrist and tugged me into a dark corner,” Joanna said, waving what appeared to be a scrap of green ribbon.
“Were you not frightened?” asked Lady Pauletta, who’d pulled her mare up closer to the group to admire the ribbon.
“Nay, indeed, for he was so witty and charming. And of course I knew that I could call for help if I must, for Lord Burle had just left my side. But I had no need for that.” Joanna looked across Alys’s horse at Marian. “Did you find Robin Hood frightening when he accosted your wagons, Lady Marian?”
“A bit disconcerting,” she replied, “but not terribly frightening.” Robin had been in Ludlow Keep last night? What on earth had possessed him to be so bold?
“He was in the keep?” Alys said, echoing Marian’s thoughts. “How foolish of the man to be wandering about the very place his enemies sleep.”
“I did not realize how brave he is,” Joanna said, fairly crooning at her ribbon. “Brave and kind.”
“Brave and kind?” Alys scoffed. “Foolish is a better word, aye, Marian?”
“But he did not kiss you, and leave you with his favor, did he?” Joanna said, fluttering said favor in the breeze. “He is a beautiful kisser. I vow you would change your mind if he did so.”
“You say the man is kind?” Marian asked. “By kissing you in the corner?”
“Nay, of course not,” Lady Pauletta said. “You must have heard the tales of how he helps the villagers-poor sots that they are. They consider him some sort of hero for delivering chickens and goats, and once even spreading a bit of coin among them.”
“The goods he purchases with the money he steals from the king,” Alys said drily. “An outlaw indeed.”
“But he does not keep it for himself,” protested Joanna. “He uses it for the good of the poor. And he is wickedly handsome, is he not, Marian? Or did he wear his famous hood when he met you?”
The others looked at Marian. Oh, indeed, Robin of the Hood was wickedly handsome, and charming. . and a delightful kisser. And bold and brave and foolish all at once. To risk himself by sneaking into the keep when the
