Everything I Do: a Robin Hood romance (Rosa Fitzwalter Book 1) (10 page)

As she mounted her horse, her spirits were very low indeed; for she feared that this had been her last excursion into the forest. For all she knew tomorrow could be her wedding day, and the execution of Will Scarlet a wedding present from her father to Sir Hugh. She shuddered violently at this thought, and Robin noticed.

“You are cold,” he said reproachfully and quickly removed his cloak to put it around her shoulders. Rosa wanted to protest, for she thought the reproach was intended for her weakness, but she knew if she spoke, the tears that were gathered in her eyes would finally spill.

To reproach her was as far from Robin’s thoughts as anything. His mind was working in quite another direction.

He still berated himself for that kiss. He had so worried about keeping her safe, and had finally gone and done such a dishonorable thing to her himself. He’d mentally kicked himself a thousand times since this morning.

He had felt so afraid when he had ridden into the forest this morning. It had been worse than he let everyone believe. They had faced death this day, and he had known beforehand that it would be so. Will’s capture had been the Sheriff’s men’s prize, and they had left them alone after that, not willing to risk their lives to unseen arrows anymore.

That’s why the rest of his band had escaped unscathed.

But their enemies had now Will to use as a bait, to torture, to plan to execute again and again until Robin could bear it no more and would go and try to free him. And then they would catch them all. Except… Rose had said she believed he could do it. Was it possible he could once again fool the Sheriff, especially now that he seemed to hold them in his hand? No, the girl simply overestimated his strength. It was a consolation, nothing more.

Yes, he had been afraid that morning and for good reason. But he had faced danger, even certain death, before. And it was always with a smile on his face, mocking death even as it approached. What had changed now?

It was she, he knew it.

She was the reason he was afraid. From the first day he saw her, even dressed as a boy, he’d known fear, fear he had sworn he never would feel again. Fear for her safety; fear that he would lose her. Fear that he would never lay eyes on her lovely face again, or that he would never be heartened by her courageous words again. That’s what had made him turn his horse around and take her in his arms. He’d kissed her hungrily, desperately, and he was ashamed of himself now to remember it, for she had been a maiden sweet and innocent before he had dishonored her in such a coward’s way; but he had done it, and couldn’t take it back.

It was true that it was because of her kiss that he’d fought like a lion; that he’d rushed from one group of his men to the other and back, that he’d been everywhere at once, defending his men like a bear awakened from his sleep. It was with the taste of her sweet lips on his that he had defied death and hadn’t cared whether he ever got back to the roaring fire of the camp.

It was a kiss worth dying for.

But he had been wrong to take it from her. And when he got back, and saw her struggling like a common maidservant, with a pail large enough to fit her whole inside, his anger had exploded. It was true, she
was
indeed a servant, but to him she was a princess, a queen even, someone to revere and serve and protect. What was he doing to her by encouraging her visits? Putting her in grave danger and risking her reputation and even her virtue itself, as of today.

And now she was cold.

Was it not enough that she counted her life as naught so as to serve him that he would knowingly endanger her health too?

He took off his heavy green cloak and fastened it around her slender white neck, trying not to come in contact with her velvet skin, his fingers shaking. The least he could do was try to keep his filthy hands away from her. He didn’t dare even look at her, but he knew he couldn’t resist for long.

Eventually he turned to face her and saw that she was fighting against tears.

He froze. His horse stumbled to a stop and he felt like laying himself at her feet and begging her to forgive him. She stopped a few paces ahead of him and turned questioning eyes to his face.

“Are you unhappy?” he asked, his voice strange, hoarse, unrecognizable.

“I think you are too,” she retorted.

Robin hung his head in shame. She was right. He had no right to ask her, especially since he knew he was the source of her distress.

“I have good reason to be,” he replied, still not looking at her, wondering about how he could ever apologize to her.

“My heart aches for your friend, master, too, but worry not, I am sure-”

Her gentle voice, trying to console him, made him feel even guiltier. He spoke fast, not being able to bear her kindness.

“It is my regret and shame that more pains me right now, fair maiden. My friend’s fate is at least not of my own making.”

“Regret for what?” she sounded truly perplexed and shocked. Ah, I should have known she would not hold it against me, he thought.

“I did today something despicable, something beyond dishonor. I swear to you, fair Rose, if I had seen another man do what I did to you this morning, he would not have lived to see the sunup,” he said with sudden vehemence.

Rosa’s mouth almost dropped open and her eyes went round with surprise for a minute. She had thought he’d forgotten all about it -after all what was she to him, but a poor kitchen maid who worshipped the ground he walked on? And of those surely there were two dozens to be found at the tavern Robin and his men visited of a lonely night. But then she understood. The tears finally ran down her face, as she realized his contempt for her weakness.

Robin saw her tears, and, disgusted with himself, threw his legs over from the saddle and flew into the forest on foot, not willing to let her see the violence of his remorse.

He came to a halt a few steps away from her, for the darkness was thick as a veil around them, ripe with unseen dangers, and he didn’t dare leave her alone. He covered his eyes with his palm and sighed in exasperation with himself, trying to think of words adequate enough to beg for her forgiveness.

The moments passed by, and still he did not move, immobile in his shame.

Rosa spoke at last, her voice low and timid, but Robin heard, for even as he ran from her his ears were alert to her voice and he was prepared to rush at her side at the first sign of distress.

“Forgive me master, for my impulse earlier this morning; it was only my fear for your safety that drove me to…”

“Forgive
you
?” Robin cut her off and came to stand next to her horse in a few long strides, not believing his ears. “Forgive you, my sweet maiden, you who have nothing but goodness and bravery in your heart? Forgive you your patience with the manners of a boar like me? Or forgive you your maidenhood and the sweet spell you’ve cast upon me ever since I first saw you? No, it is I who must beg your forgiveness for acting like a cad, for forcing myself on you.” He stopped as fiercely as he had begun, resisting the urge to fall on one knee before her, like a serf.

Rosa was looking at him in wonder, and then her face slowly broke into a smile so lovely it made his heart ache.

“I thought you regretted it, master,” she said simply, rendering him speechless once more. “No, there is no need for you to apologize. Indeed, I must thank
you
, for my first kiss was given me by a man I so greatly admire and respect.”

His face turned up to hers, his eyes watering with an emotion he had never felt before in his life, Robin Hood slowly sank to his knees in front of the red-headed maiden, seated regally atop her horse. He stayed there, speechless, until Rosa dismounted and knelt before him, too, her eyes locked with his. They stared at each other, a million words passing silently between them.

Then Robin lifted his hand to tenderly caress her cheek and she closed her eyes, savoring his touch. He leaned yet closer and whispered in a trembling voice,

“Your first kiss, you said? That was your first kiss, my maid? I regret that it was taken and not given by your own free will.”

“Oh but it was,” Rosa replied, her own arms moving to embrace him. “As is this.”

As soon as she reached towards him, Robin pulled her to him with a shuddering breath, as though he could not help himself.

This time he tried to be more gentle as he kissed her slowly, savoring her taste and he was surprised to feel the wetness of tears on his cheeks again. It was strange that this mere slip of a girl should move him so deeply, should steal his thoughts and his breath, and should draw tears from his eyes and blood from his heart, merely by saying that she wanted to kiss him. But so it was.

Once again, they sank into each other, their lips meeting and their hearts soaring to the skies.

They kissed kneeling there, their bodies meeting to press together, their hands locked in tight embrace. Robin ran his fingers tenderly over the length of her cheek, and he crushed his lips to her neck, the stubble on his chin tickling her deliciously. She sighed and leaned against his chest, supported on the muscle of his shoulder as she melted against him.

They couldn’t bear to be parted yet, so, without speaking, they kissed for a few precious moments longer, sharing an intimacy neither had thought possible before, not knowing that from a spot well-concealed somewhere amid the thick bushes, they were being watched.

…

Little Ben pushed his sandy hair away from his face with an impatient gesture. His limbs felt a bit numb after crouching down among the bushes for so long, but it had been worth it.

He glanced towards the red-haired lady’s grey horse, as it vanished around a bend on the way to the castle. It was too late now to go after her himself, he decided. His news could wait for the morrow. And so could the generous payment from the lady with the yellow hair.

She had been dressed beautifully; even more so than Lady Rosa did on festivals, but there was a kind of evil in her eyes that frightened him. But she had promised him a lavish reward if he brought her the information she was after, and his father would welcome the money.

Eloise, that’s the name she was called by, he remembered it now.

Ben himself could do with an additional bite of bread, or maybe even a chunk of meat thrown in the thin, watered-down broth his mother cooked these days. At twelve years old, he wasn’t the eldest of his siblings but he looked more like seven. Underfed and poorly clothed, he wasn’t unlike most children of the village. And with winter coming soon, he considered himself lucky to have found even this small source of income. If he played his cards smartly, he might make it last a bit longer.

…

Rosa snuck into the stables, the sweetness of Robin’s kiss still lingering on her lips. She closed her eyes for a moment and felt his strong fingers tangled in her hair, cupping her neck, sliding along her cheek. She brought her sleeve to her lips and smelled his scent, pine needles and sunshine, on her coarse blue peasant-girl’s dress.

Reluctantly she dismounted, her muscles stiff and aching with fatigue, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt strong arms enfolding her, pulling her against a stone-hard chest.

“Hush!” a voice said, before she began to scream. She relaxed against him, suddenly angry.

“What do you want?”

“Forgive me, my lady, I only wanted to make sure of your return to us.”

“Well, I am perfectly safe, as you can see,” she replied more calmly, regretting her harsh tone of before.

“Rosa- my lady,” Sir Hugh corrected himself, turning her to face him in the darkness, “I was so afraid… I didn’t know…”

Finally he released her and seemed to straighten up to his full height, his features becoming further obscured in the darkness as he did so.

“I should tell you, my lady, warn you rather, your father seems exceptionally angry about the whole outlaw business, he is more intent on revenge than ever…”

“I know,” she said simply, her mind on Will Scarlet. Sir Hugh looked at her intently, his eyes searching hers.

“I am not sure I understand what you are referring to, but I meant to speak of the danger for
you
. The Sheriff seems to have some information or some… some inkling of your affairs. He is not wont to show mercy to anyone.”

“I do not expect any,” she said, a bitter edge to her voice.

“I thought I might bear it to lose you to the forest, although how I could stand it to think that you’d be in the hands of those thieving scoundrels I still don’t know. But I most certainly will
not
lose you to the noose!” His voice was hard now, eager, intense, loud.

“I am not yours to lose, Sir Hugh. Please remember that.”

With this, she went to get her much-needed sleep. She awoke late the next morning to the sound of bells ringing from the steeple of St. John the Baptist’s church.

Her maid, Helena, had already laid out one of her best garments for her to wear, and was now hurrying through the door to wake her. Rosa however seemed to have no inclination to rise. Half-raised on her pillow, she was gazing out of the small window to the blue sky with an inscrutable expression on her face.