Colette Gale - Bound by Honor

At last she wrenched her face away and the next thing Robin knew, his right ear was ringing from the slap.

He could not recall the last time he’d been slapped by a woman.

In fact, he couldn’t remember any time that he’d been so rebuffed.

“I shall have the sheriff after you,” she spit, her blue eyes furious. “How dare you!”

Robin didn’t have the energy to laugh at her threat. He was out of breath, the room still spun, and ’sblood, her lips were even more lush now. Her cheeks burned pink; her hair-its fashioning having long fallen out-swirled about her hips, where her hands were now planted like those of an angry fishwife.

“I do believe the sheriff is already after me,” Robin said when he’d caught his breath.

“I shall tell him where your hideout is,” she retorted.

Robin couldn’t help but laugh, though he wasn’t quite certain why. He’d just been slapped by this little fairy of a woman, his cheek still throbbed from it, and he couldn’t wait to get her back into his arms again. “You are fortunate that I am not of the ilk of some other bandits that lurk about in these woods. Such men would be more likely to slay you on the spot than allow you to carry tales.”

For the first time, her bravado faltered. But then the sparkle was back in her eyes. “But you shall demand a ransom for me, and will move me, well hooded, I trow, to another safe place so that I cannot carry tales.”

“My, how much you know of the tricks of an outlaw, Lady Alys.”

“Nay, ’tis naught but common sense that I speak.”

“But now you speak of ransom. . so you’ve decided to stay with us, then, Lady Alys? Not in so much of a hurry to leave?” Robin asked. “And I would have returned you to Ludlow this very moment. But instead, I must cipher a ransom note.” He tsked, shaking his head. “But how much are you worth, my lady?”

Alys tossed her head. “Send a ransom note, then,” she scoffed. “The sheriff will use it as an opportunity to capture you.”

“Nottingham could not capture me if I came and stood in his chamber at Ludlow,” Robin felt compelled to say. He didn’t care for the way she spoke about Nottingham, the certainty and admiration in her voice for the black devil.

“I trow he would not force his kiss upon a lady,” she added, with a surprisingly sharp bolt to his heart. One of her blond eyebrows rose in a perfect arch.

“So ’tis Nottingham you desire,” Robin said. “I find that difficult to believe, for the ladies I know turn tail and run when he approaches. They fear him as the villagers do.”

“I do not think he is as cruel as he appears,” Alys replied with startling perception. “He is angry, but he does not take it out on the innocent.”

“The tales that come to my ears speak otherwise.”

She lifted her chin again. “And they are tales, and nay more. I’ve not seen it. And he certainly doesn’t force kisses upon the women.”

“And so we are back to the kisses once more,” Robin said, finding himself moving closer to her again. “Mayhap I shall demand a ransom of sorts from you, rather than money from your father. . or husband.”

“Is that your inept way of trying to learn who shall be after your head once I am freed?” Alys retorted. But she did not step back this time, instead standing her ground as he placed himself directly in front of her. A lock of her hip-length hair curled boldly out, nearly brushing against his tunic just above the belt.

“Inept?” Robin said, feeling his mouth twitch into a smile again. “I do not think many consider me inept. . in any fashion.” He stepped forward and felt the titillating whisk of another curl against his hand, which remained at his side. Looking down at her, he could see each of her thick lashes. “The only ransom I wish to collect from you, Lady Alys, is one kiss. Given willingly.” His voice was rich and low even to his ears.

“And then you will take me back to Ludlow?” she asked. She sounded a little out of breath. Not quite as strident as before.

“And then I will take you back to Ludlow. If you still wish to go.”

She raised her face, lifting those gorgeous lips, and Robin bent to meet them. Softly, he pressed against her mouth, so softly. He barely touched her lips, brushing them with his, opening his mouth to close around her upper lip, licking its underside slowly. . gently. He felt his breath gathering again, his eyes closing, his knees weakening.

And then it was over. She stepped away.

He opened his eyes.

She was looking up at him, speechless.

And then the mood broke when she said, “There. Now you shall return me. And I hope that the sheriff catches you when you do.”

There it was. . the sheriff again. Robin frowned, then tamped back his annoyance. “I’m certain you shall tell him everything you know,” he said, matching her cool tone.

“I should warn you,” Alys said, crossing her arms again, and this time, he didn’t allow himself to be distracted, “I will keep no secrets from the sheriff. If you should approach me again-especially in the halls of the keep as you’ve foolishly done to Lady Joanna-I shall raise such a hue and cry that you will never see these trees again.”

“Then I shall make certain if I do approach you that I shall keep that lovely mouth of yours otherwise engaged.”

And with that, he dropped down the rope ladder.

“After you, Lady Alys.”

Marian did not venture into the great hall for the midday meal. Instead, she sent Ethelberga to procure some cheese and bread for her repast while she sat in her chamber. Positioning a small table directly beneath the peephole, where she could not be seen by anyone looking through the hole, she took a piece of parchment from deep within her trunk. A bottle of ink and three quills followed, and she settled at the table to write to the queen. The foolscap had been scraped clean many times, but with care, so there was only a single hole near the bottom. As she wrote, Marian avoided the few thin spots on the parchment so that the ink wouldn’t bleed.

Although Ethelberga was aware that her mistress could read and write-an unusual feat for a woman, and, indeed, for most men who weren’t priests-Marian didn’t wish for her to know that she was doing so at this time. A simple mention of her mistress writing a letter could lead to questions or curiosity from others.

It was one thing for a woman to send and receive letters that, in most cases, would need to be dictated to, or read to her by, a priest or other learned man, but Eleanor preferred that her ladies be able to do such tasks on their own. Fewer eyes and ears to notice them. She’d come to trust Marian after noting that the younger woman could hold her tongue after assisting the queen in scribing personal messages. At first they’d been simple, unimportant ones, but as her confidence in Marian grew, Eleanor had used her for more-sensitive communications.

Marian had little to report to the queen other than her safe arrival at Ludlow, so her missive took little time to finish. She’d sprinkled sand over it to dry the ink, then folded and sealed it long before Ethelberga returned.

After eating her cheese and bread, Marian left her chamber in search of one of the messengers Eleanor had told her to use when communicating. Just as she preferred her ladies to compose their own missives, she also trained them well on the trustworthiness of messengers, teaching them which ones to use. And which ones to avoid.

Down in the hall, which had emptied of most diners after the meal, Marian managed to catch the attention of one of the messengers she sought. She’d murmured for him to meet her privately in the bailey when she felt something stir in the room behind her. Without looking, she knew Will had entered the hall, and tension crept over her shoulders, along with an uncomfortable tingling in her belly.