in the wood.
Curiosity niggled at her, and Marian could not resist. She moved silently through the forest, taking care to step only on the thick covering of pine needles, which muffled any sound, and to avoid sticks and bushes. The ability to move thus was a skill she’d learned long ago, when she sneaked after the fostering boys at Mead’s Vale and spied upon them. When she heard the voices clearly enough to recognize that they belonged to two men who were speaking in low rumbles, she crouched and peered around a tree.
Will sat atop his massive black horse in the midst of a dark, thick section of the wood. The trees grew so close here that little sunlight reached the ground. Leaves and pine boughs created a canopy above Will’s head, but he stood unfettered and fully in view in the middle of the shadowy forest.
At first, Marian thought he must be alone, and that his companion-or whomever he’d been talking to-had gone. But then she heard a murmured reply filtering from somewhere, and she looked up into the trees.
Robin?
Robin and Will were talking, there in the midst of the forest?
Or had Will chased the outlaw deep into the wood, and now Robin sat high in a tree, taunting the sheriff from his perch?
Marian strained to hear their conversation, but just then, Will gave a loud disgusted sound and wheeled his horse sharply about. He slammed his heels into the destrier’s side, and with a great leap, they began to bound toward her. Heart in her throat, Marian stumbled back, out of the warhorse’s path, and ducked behind a fallen tree. She tripped over the huge trunk, tumbling onto the other side and landing in a pile of gown and kirtle.
Worried that Will had heard her ungainly escape, she pulled herself up and peered over the top of the trunk, half-expecting him to come galloping over to yank her out from her hiding place. But he barreled on past, and she watched him go with another worry; he might not have found her, but if he kept on in that direction, he would see her horse and mayhap her men.
Marian scrambled up and began to run, not back on the route from which she’d come, but at a slightly different angle. Will would certainly come back into the forest, looking for her, and she wanted to be as far from this place where he’d been with Robin as possible.
She also wanted time to think about what she’d seen: Will and Robin, talking in the middle of the wood.
Had they met intentionally, and Robin taken the opportunity to taunt Will from his place in the tree? Or had it been happenstance, and the sheriff had once again allowed the outlaw to slip through his fingers? That hardly seemed to be the case, since Will had left first. But even so, she suspected that the sheriff would be less than pleased to know she’d witnessed their dealings.
She tripped and fell once because she wasn’t watching the ground, so worried was she that Will might come bursting through the wood upon her. Pulling herself back up, Marian realized her veil had been torn from her hair somewhere along the way, and that branches had pulled tendrils from her thick braids. Her skirts were soiled and she was out of breath by the time she heard what she’d been expecting: the bellow of her name, and the dull thud of hooves on the forest floor.
Pausing to catch her breath, she smoothed her hair and her skirt and tried to appear as if she were merely examining a growth of moss on the side of one tree. She’d seen one of the healers use moss to pack a wound once-
“Marian!”
She forced herself to look mildly surprised to see him, but it was difficult when faced with the dangerous black figure before her. The warhorse pawed and pranced as Will drew him up and around, coming toward her.
“Madwoman!” he thundered. “What do you here alone? Was not one attack by outlaws enough for you? Do you wish to be taken off and assaulted?”
“Nay, of course I do not,” she shouted back, startled into anger. However she had expected their next meeting to be after the events of the night before, this was not a scene she would have imagined. “My men are nearby, in fact. They will like be coming to my aid, for they’re certain to hear how you have attacked me thus.” Her voice had calmed and now bore a tinge of disdain.
“Or mayhap you simply troll through the wood in hopes of meeting Robin Hood,” he continued furiously, as if she’d never spoken, his voice infused with venom. He took little care to keep the destrier from pawing and snorting, fairly atop her in his close proximity.
If she did not know how well he controlled his horse, she might be frightened enough to step back from the four-legged beast, but Marian was not about to show any further weakness. Instead, she stood her ground and glared up at him, hardly able to accept that only last night he’d been sliding in and out of her body, making her cry and writhe with pleasure.
“I presume this is yours?” His fist whipped out and she saw that he was holding a scrap of blue ribbon.
Marian looked at it, immediately recognizing the bit of fabric. She hadn’t even noticed the narrow trim was missing, but quickly realized where she must have lost it: in the cave where she and Robin had. . been. . two days ago.
And Will had found it. And made. . the right. . conclusion. She grimaced.
“In the future,” he continued as the sound of more dull hoofbeats came pounding, “I suggest you find a safer place than the middle of the forest to search for your lover. ’Tis foolish to wander where any might see or find you.”
Before she had the chance to reply, Bruse and Fargus burst into view brandishing their swords as they galloped up.
“Hold!” she shouted, raising her hands to stop them. The last thing she needed was for them to attack the sheriff. Although ’twould likely be an overmatched battle, with the sheriff and his warhorse coming out the victors.
“Lady?” Bruse asked, slightly out of breath, eyeing the sheriff warily. He moved toward her, maneuvering his horse adeptly between his mistress and Will.
Marian thought she saw a glint of approval in the sheriff ’s eyes as his mount flared his nostrils furiously, but it disappeared.
Instead, he asked, “Is this yours?” Dangling the ribbon from a dark hand, he caught her with his dark eyes, his gaze piercing her coldly.
He wanted confirmation that she’d been in the cave with Robin, and by the saints, she’d give it to him. “Aye.” She walked easily past Bruse and reached to pluck it from his fingers. “I had no idea I’d lost it. Many thanks for returning it.”
“Mayhap next time, you’ll take better care not to leave evidence of your presence languishing about. It could be dangerous to you.”
“More dangerous than the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire?” she asked pertly. “That I cannot fathom.”
He scowled at her well-placed barb, then wheeled his mount and started off toward the keep without another word. She watched him go, admiring his easy grace in the saddle. . and the width of his shoulders, the thick dark hair that just brushed them, the powerful thighs that clamped around the warhorse.
And she wished that he were not the man she knew him to be.
CHAPTER 13
The day of the archery contest dawned gray and wet, and showed no inclination toward changing into more pleasant weather. Droplets glittered in the morning light and gray drizzle cooled the air as the sun rose behind smoky clouds. Nevertheless, the competition would commence just after the midday meal in the hall, for John would not be denied his pleasure-for the match, nor for springing his trap upon Robin Hood.
After coming upon Marian in the forest the day before, Will had returned to the keep and managed to keep the prince occupied, distracted with his plans to capture Robin Hood the next day. They’d plotted, drinking wine, throughout the evening and into the night before John sought his bed. This gave Will a needed reprieve and, he supposed, Marian a quiet night.
