Everything I Do: a Robin Hood romance (Rosa Fitzwalter Book 1) (37 page)

Rosa didn’t care to dance.

She preferred to sit in a corner with the older women, sipping hot spiced wine from her goblet and meeting Julian’s eyes across the room every few minutes to assure him she was all right.

They had suspected that tonight, with so many people from the nearby villages and estates in the room, it would be possible for one of the Sheriff’s spies to slip in easily with the throng, so Julian suggested they remain apart and watch.

So she sat inconspicuously, blending in with the crowd, until she became thirsty and had to get up to refill her glass.

The crush was great, and it took a long time to take a single step between the velvet skirts twirling about the revelers. The thick, dense atmosphere created by the hundreds of candles and the rich, ruby-colored wine made it hard to draw breath, and she longed for the clear night air. Then, before she had managed to advance a yard on the creaking wooden floor, pulsing with the steps of the dancers, she saw him.

He was standing among the merry-makers, splashing golden ale into his mouth sloppily, but he stood out among them like a fly in white milk, even though no one seemed to be bothered by his presence there.

She didn’t know his name, but she recognized him immediately.

He was one of them; one of her father’s guards. He was mingling seamlessly with the other guests, roaring with laughter one minute and the next he was turning his head in her direction.

She felt her knees go weak, but she forced herself to act.

She turned her head away immediately, not meeting his eyes, hoping he had missed her in the throng. Then she tried to catch Julian’s gaze, which she did immediately since he was already looking for her, alert for any sign of distress.

She inclined her head imperceptibly and he started walking calmly towards the door. She exited from another way, and they met halfway down the corridor that led from the dancing hall.

“What is it?” he asked, immediately, reaching out to her, his blond eyebrows drawn together.

“He’s here,” she answered, “one of them. One of his men, one of the…”

She couldn’t say the word.

Her knees finally gave way and she sank to the floor, shaking violently, images of the last torture she had suffered at the Sheriff’s men’s hands rushing through her mind at an amazing speed, stealing her breath..

“Easy now, I’ve got you. I’m here,” Julian said, kneeling with her on the hard floor. “You’re safe, you’re safe,” he repeated.

Right then, hurried steps echoed in the sudden silence.

Rosa tensed, but she couldn’t see who it was. Julian, however didn’t move.

“You’ll be missed,” he said to whoever was coming their way. “You should go back.”

“Is she unwell?” a gruff voice asked, and Rosa recognized Sir Gavin’s somber tones.

He too knelt on one knee and peered anxiously into her face.

“You look pale as death,” he observed.

“Thank you, my lord,” Rosa replied sarcastically.

“She’s merely frightened,” Julian said, getting to his feet. “She saw a man she recognized as one of the Sheriff’s.”

Sir Gavin tightened his lips. He reached a hand out to Rosa’s cheek.

“I don’t like her frightened,” he told Julian.

“I’ll take her to her room,” Julian replied, hurriedly, but Sir Gavin extended an arm to halt him.

“Wait,” he said. “I don’t generally enjoy being hunted. Neither do I like hiding away.”

Julian crossed his arms in front of his chest. His elegant clothes, a dark emerald doublet and silk hose, meant to help him appear as one of the duke’s guests, although they should have hung on him sloppily, unused as he was to wearing such finery, surprisingly fit him well. His blond curls were swept back from his face, and he looked every part the courtier, except for his great muscles bulging beneath the soft fabric, and his brilliant green eyes, full of energy and adventure.

For the first time he was happy, his mouth no longer a hard, thin line, his movements relaxed, his posture welcoming instead of threatening. It was obvious to one and all that he would annihilate every danger that threatened to part him from the source of this contentment.

“And what do you suggest instead? Murder him?” he sneered at Sir Gavin.

“Why not?” Sir Gavin shrugged. Then his gaze fell upon Rosa, crouched on the floor, and he swallowed hard. “I say, we get him good and drunk, so that when he goes back to Nottingham he can’t even remember his own name. Humiliate him right in front of all our guests and send him to face the fury of his master. What do you say?”

Julian thought for a moment. Robin had taught him that humiliating the enemy was as satisfying a victory as one could manage without killing.

“And what about Rosa?” he asked in a minute.

“She comes with me.” Sir Gavin raised her gently off the floor. “And we dance. All night, if need be.”

There was a strange gleam in his eyes, and Rosa wondered if she imagined it, or whether he was enjoying this in earnest. She, however, had her own objections to the last part of the scheme.

“I don’t feel quite up to it,” she said. Julian looked down at her in concern.

Sir Gavin frowned.

“Trust me,” he told her, putting his arm around her waist.

He raised her waist to his shoulder, he turned her around and joined his palm to hers. He twirled her and lifted her again above his head. They stepped gracefully in time, listening to the harmonious chords of the lutes as they inclined their heads in time and he never once left her eyes from his.

They danced into the night.

Whenever she needed to stop to take a breath, he stopped with her. She wasn’t left alone for a second, her eyes drifting often to where Julian was drinking the guard under the table amid many jokes and much laughter from the other cronies.

Rosa danced in Sir Gavin’s arms until her feet were sore and he had to lift her clean off the floor, but still they daren’t stop.

When midnight passed the crowd became even wilder. The wine ran freely and Rosa’s mind was put to rest since Julian had whispered in her ear that ‘the man had been taken care of’.

Soon after that Sir Gavin deposited her on a comfortable seat by one of the large fireplaces and went to pursue other entertainment. His demeanor had steadily grown darker and more ominous through the evening, but she couldn’t wonder about it right now, she was so bone tired.

On the wall, the torches sparkled on, sending a thin mist of smoke over the crowd, and she was beginning to think about excusing herself and going to bed, when someone spoke her name.

“My lady Rosa,” a deep, slightly exotic voice said in her ear, and she turned to find a long, lean, cloaked figure kneeling at her feet.

Her lips began to form a question, but she stopped short when the man lifted his face to hers.

His eyes were the color of ebony, sparkling in the candlelight with humor and excitement. Nothing else was visible beneath his black mask, except for his lips, pressed in a thin line together and then the tip of his clean-shaven jaw.

He reached out a long, gloved hand which dwarfed hers and the next minute he was twirling her among the never-ceasing dancers.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered to him as soon as she had got her breath back. He leaned down to listen to her and his mere presence, his very scent was so intoxicating to her that she trembled in his arms.

He caught his breath against her hair.

“I could not stay away another minute,” he replied, his voice unsteady. “Are you surprised to see me dancing so well?” he asked, half-mockingly, trying to lighten the mood, for already time was passing by and they were that much closer to the moment they should part.

She thought of how many times he’d spun her around the jolly fire in the forest, his men dancing gaily about, the night echoing with sparks and laughter. Those nights seemed now to have belonged in another life, before Robin had grown distant and cold, before he’d driven her away. Those carefree dances, impromptu steps devised on the spot to match Alan’s music, hands held tight to keep away the cold, had no resemblance to this vigorous swaying to the beat of an entire orchestra of well-paid musicians, and the mere memory of them hurt her.

She sniffed against his shoulder, and his arms tightened about her in understanding; he was fighting a sudden emotion, too.

“I knew,” she said. “It stands to reason, when you are so good at everything else…”

“Not everything,” he murmured staring into her eyes mournfully. “I have been exceptionally inadequate in loving you. And keeping you from harm.”

“And keeping yourself from harm as well, it would seem,” she rejoined. “What are you doing here? We just found a man from Nottingham only hours ago...”

“I heard all about it,” he said, pressing a quick kiss on her hair. “Julian knows I’m here.” He shut his eyes for a minute, as if pained. “I must find a place to take you where no one will threaten you, I cannot bear this.”

“You are here now,” she said. “I am safe enough.”

“Will you say my name once?” he asked.

“You know your own name,” she replied, hiding her face in the folds of his cloak. “Besides,” she murmured, “you stand out already in this disguise without me proclaiming to the world you are the prince of outlaws.”

“I am not the only one here disguised or wearing a mask,” he said defiantly, looking around to the guests. “But my girl knew me at once, didn’t you, my Rosa?”

“I did, Robin,” she said and felt him shudder against her. “You took such a risk coming here, I am afraid for you, you… you should go,” she went on before she lost her courage.

“Tired of my company already?” he asked, and his voice sounded deceptively amused. It didn’t fool her for a moment.

She felt his uncertainty palpable as he looked down to her, his eyes searching hers with something akin to desperation in their brilliant depths, and she sought to reassure him.

“I was tired indeed, before you appeared out of thin air” she replied, lifting her luminous eyes to his. “But when you are near me I find I cannot feel anything else except-”

“Except loved,” he finished her phrase for her, leaning down to speak into her ear. “Loved, so much loved,” he repeated in a quiet voice. “Adored.”

She trembled against him and he crushed her to him, lifting her with an arm around her waist so that their eyes were at the same level.

“You are afraid?” he asked, leaning back to look into her eyes.

“I am afraid of the moment you will have to leave me.”

He held her to him.

“Not yet,” he said. “Not yet, my love. I cannot…” his voice trailed into silence, his voice tortured. “I find I cannot tear myself away from you. I am entirely under your spell.”

So they danced some more.

It was a completely different feeling now whenever the movement of the dance demanded that he lift her in the air, and she leaned into him, looking down into his upturned eyes filled with passion, as he held her above his head and then she was anchored safely in his strong arms, letting him hold her with complete abandon.

“You looked sad when I first saw you sitting there,” he observed. “And a bit thinner, if I am not mistaken. Are you terribly unhappy?”

“I miss you,” she answered softly.

“Come back to me,” he whispered fiercely, joining his gloved hand with hers, in time with the steps of the dance. “Marry me. Come live with me. Share my poverty, share my danger. I am going mad with wanting you there beside me.”

She took a step back and tried to look into his eyes, but he had suddenly bent his head down and she couldn’t see his face.

“Robin…” she started.

“Forgive me,” he said. “Forgive me for speaking so out of turn. Forgive me, my sweet girl. This is neither the place nor the time, I know. It is your very presence that weakens me.”

Then, suddenly, he bent and pressed his lips to her ear.

“May I kiss you?” he asked.

She lifted her face to his instead of an answer.

His kiss was full of need and desperation, hers salty with tears. They melted into each other, he cupping her head with his large hands, she tugging onto his dark cloak and arching her back to lean into him.

“I am yours,” he sighed against her lips.

Then, exhaling a shuddering breath like a gust of the chilly wind that was blowing outside the window, he was gone.

Rosa was too restless after his visit to go to bed.

Slowly the dancing crowds began to thin and as the sky began to lighten some of the guests drifted outside, in the gardens, braving the cold night.

Julian came and sat next to her, as she was sitting perfectly still, her eyes large and sorrowful. He took her hand.

“You are chilled,” he said.

She didn’t turn to look at him.

“It was a mistake to allow him to see you, wasn’t it?” he asked, anxiously, when she wasn’t responding.