Everything I Do: a Robin Hood romance (Rosa Fitzwalter Book 1) (5 page)

“She fell on me,” he said, and she was sure that deep in the recesses of his mind he was reliving the entire thing. He chuckled softly and turned to meet her eyes. “You know, Stuart,” he said, “I am not in the habit of being captured by our noble Sheriff and finding myself at the mercy of his men. But that one time it happened.”

He took a deep breath and gazed out into the distance. All around them night was falling, the forest alive with the scurrying of little creatures and the soft humming of Alan’s lute.

“I was on the ground,” Robin continued, lowering his head, his hand gripping the back of his neck, “and the Sheriff was plunging a knife at my heart. And then, out of nowhere, I felt someone fall on me. I was covered by her slim body; and her hair, it was the color of fire, just like yours, it fell all over my face. And then I felt her contract at the pain and I knew the dagger had gone into her heart instead of mine. And the blood, her precious warm blood flowed through my clothes and soaked me… I can’t tell you how many times I have relived this scene in my mind. It lasted only for a few seconds, you understand? It all happened so quickly, and before I knew it my men had dragged me out of the mess and we were safely in the woods. But everything was so clear to me while it happened; it was as if it lasted for a whole year.”

He stopped for a moment, and roughly wiped the tears that were now flowing freely from his eyes. Then he went on.

“It was more than a year ago. And I am almost completely sure that she died right then. But still, for a year and a half I have been looking everywhere for a girl with hair the color of fire. There never once has been one with that precise hue. Everyone says that it was a lucky accident. But I know better. I felt it. She
fell
on me, I know it. She did it to save me. Do you believe me?”

Rosa, close to tears herself, nodded mutely and she thought she heard him inhale sharply.

“I will never be able to thank her,” he added in a broken voice. “I don’t even know her name.”

He gazed silently in the fire, spent by the tale.

“It was so long ago”, she ventured to say finally. “It seems to me you should be thankful and just let it be.”

He turned to her and smiled.

“There is nothing else I can do. But I thank you, my fair lass, for listening to me. It did me a world of good. Only promise me, I beg of you, that you won’t tell anyone about this. They will mercilessly tease me.”

“I won’t,” she answered. “It seems to me however that you harbor no small fear of your own men. Strange that, for such a brave outlaw as yourself.”

He laughed heartily, his mirth spreading like wildfire across the trees. The men looked up to see the source of their chief’s laughter from across the camp, and smiled to see him so content in the company of the little messenger girl.

“Strange it is and yet I somehow do not fear your knowledge of it,” Robin told her. “All my secrets are now in your fair hands.” He took her hands in his and held them lightly. “And they are safe.”

A little chill ran through her spine at his last words.

Whether it was from hearing her own story from his lips, or from his assurance of his safety in her hands, she wasn’t sure. But now was not the time for such deep reflections. She would think everything over in the solitude of her room.

Robin was already standing and extending a hand to her. She took it and in a moment she was by his side. In a graceful sweep, she was in his arms dancing to the joyous music of Alan’s lute around the huge fire. Every other thought fled from her mind: his touch, his look, his voice - they were her whole world. And it was enough.

She left after midnight, so loath was she to tear herself away from the merry men’s company. Apart from the thrill that their handsome leader caused in her heart, their laughter and cheer never failed to lift her spirits and transport her into a world where justice and goodness triumphed. She so longed to be able to stay there for a whole day, but she knew she must be very careful, if not for her own sake, then for his.

This time Robin came with her almost to the gates of the castle. She tried to argue against it, but there was no changing his mind. Rosa knew it was hardly necessary, not to mention highly dangerous, for him to come so close, but what she didn’t know were his real motives for insisting.

For the truth was, although she did not know it yet, that he couldn’t bear the thought of being parted from her.

Robin rode ever so slowly, keeping close beside her, until they were almost at the gates and he could see the guards pacing in the distance. Strangely, he didn’t care if someone saw him. He reached to take her hand in his, but abruptly he withdrew his arm, hoping she hadn’t seen him. He wasn’t at all sure he could stop himself merely at hand-kissing.

And she so pure, so innocent.

Before, when they were dancing, it was all he could do not to grab her and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe any more. As their skin touched and their eyes met between the jolly steps of the dance, he had to restrain himself more and more or he’d  show his emotion. He’d die before he ever laid a hand on her, he had vowed it to himself over and over since the first day he had pulled her soft, trembling body from the water. So he just stood and smiled at her, unable to speak his heart, but somehow knowing that what his eyes were saying was enough. For the moment, at least. 

…

Rosa went straight to the stables and entrusted her grey horse, Thunderbolt, to the hands of one of the stable hands, Joseph Hall, who also happened to be a  trusted friend of hers. He had stayed awake, waiting for her to come back from her adventures in the forest. He took the reins from her fingers with a smile and a wink.

“You were late, mistress”, the young boy said playfully.

“I know, Jo. I am so sorry to have kept you waiting. But you know, you should have gone to bed. I can very well care for Thunderbolt myself.”

“I knew, my lady, but I had business of me own.”

From his sly and delighted smile, Rosa surmised that this ‘business’ of his must have referred to the young maid Meg, with whom he had been enjoying a secret dalliance these last few weeks. Amused, Rosa raised her eyebrows.

“Good for you, Jo. Just be sure to make an honest woman of her soon.”

“My lady, you insult me,” quoth the wounded youth.

“Forgive me, Jo. The good Lord knows, if there is one person I know I can trust around here, it is you.” The boy smiled proudly at these words. He was the one who had helped her get away during the nights and had kept her escapades secret. Even when she went forth dressed as a boy, she had hardly heard a word of wonder or reproach coming out of his mouth. Yes, he was trustworthy. But not one of the loyal servants who were in on her many secrets, not even young Jo, did she trust with the secret of whom she was visiting at dusk or for what purpose. Too much was at stake.

“Now, that ain’t true and you know it mistress,” Jo was saying now. “There is not one of us who are in the service of your father, from the dungeons to the kitchens who wouldn’t lay down their lives for you,” he added softly.

Rosa’s eyes misted.

“I don’t know that I would be worth it, Jo,” she said, running her hand up and down Thunderbolt’s glistening back.

“Well,
I
do. For ye know well, m’ lady, we wouldn’t be alive today, most of us, if it hadn’t been for you. Your father’s wrath along with the last, harsh winter would have seen us dead if it hadn’t been you to take care of us. We never forgets that, mistress. Now hurry and go to your father, ‘cause last I heard he was up and looking for you.”

“At this hour what can he want?”

Rosa hurried on the stairs, her mind reeling with questions. Her father couldn’t have found out about her midnight adventure, for the servants must have fabricated some lie to protect her, she was sure. So then, what could he be wanting with her in the middle of the night?

She quickened her step in the hallway, all rosy-colored thoughts of the dream that had followed her from the forest forgotten -for the moment.

It turned out the Sheriff was waiting up for her with good reason.

Her trusted maid Helena had given him some fib about her having retired to bed early, but he insisted on having her awoken and come to him, for he had news that could not wait. Now that sounded like something one should fear, Helena thought to herself as she hurried her mistress to his presence, wondering at Rosa’s calm exterior.

“Happy news, daughter,” the Sheriff exclaimed as soon as he saw her. “Come, sit with me. For once, I have no quarrel with you. Indeed, you have greatly pleased me, my dear.”

Rosa found these words more dangerous that all the threats her father had directed to her through the years and she struggled to maintain her calm as she took a seat opposite the Sheriff’s opulent form, in front of the large open fire. In the background, the servants’ clanging and hurrying about was conspicuously absent, for the hour was passed and they were all abed. The confined silence was deafening, after the music of the forest.

The Sheriff paused dramatically for effect, and then started speaking triumphantly.

“A few days hence I received an offer for your hand. You are to be congratulated, daughter, for your bridegroom is a most powerful man, whose wealth alone will be a plentiful addition to mine. I must tell you, I never thought I would be rid of you, let alone so fortuitously. For all your looks, you have a disturbing tendency to stray from virtue, just like your disgraceful mother… Still, the man wants you, I suppose, or else he wouldn’t have come all the way to ask me for your hand, so that’s the last complaint you will hear form me. Come now, we must plan the nuptials as soon as possible-”

“Father.” Rosa was surprised to hear her voice so collected, for all the effort she had put in steadying it.

“For heaven’s sake, stop staring at me with those wide eyes, what is it girl?” he ejaculated impatiently.

“His name, father. What is his name?”

“Oh. Why, it’s young Hugh DeHavenger, of course.”

Her father went on to weave that worthy man’s praise, but Rosa hardly heard him. It seemed like a dark veil had separated her from the world at the sound of her aspiring husband’s name.

Hugh DeHavenger was neither old, nor repulsive or mean-spirited. In fact, he was quite handsome, or so the maidens of the entire county considered him. She had oft met him, indeed she knew him since childhood, for he frequented her father’s company, conducting ‘business of the king’s’ with him, as they claimed. In truth, the business they conducted was the exact opposite, as her father -along with other nobles and men of power and means- had set about the dethronement of the long-absent king. That alone was sufficient to earn Rosa’s deep and utter contempt.

However, he was a most powerful lord with a will of iron. If she had somehow caught his eye, and she could hardly understand how that had happened, that meant that they would be married within the week.

And yet there was something that disturbed her worse than the prospect of being tied for life to an unscrupulous man who was disloyal to her beloved king.

She would lose her freedom.

As she dragged her steps to her bed, the thought fleetingly crossed her mind that she could ask for Robin’s assistance. People always sought him out for this purpose, people that he hadn’t met before in his life. Surely she had more claim to his services. But no. Her ambition was to serve him, to aid him, not to burden him with more troubles.

And then she remembered. As far as Robin Hood knew, she was Rose, the stable-keeper’s simple daughter, standing in no danger of being married off to the highest bidder for politics.

The dawn brought neither a clearer understanding of the past nor a brighter hope for the future, but it brought a renewed desire for the forest and that secret, magical world beginning -for her- as the sun begun its glorious descent. How she longed to spend a whole morning there, a whole day! In view of her on-coming loss of freedom, her resolve strengthened. She’d have this one dream come true before she was irrevocably shackled to pain and disappointment.

Little did she know that that resolve was not all the morning brought; it also brought Sir Hugh, the resplendent bridegroom, himself.

…

He had not come alone. A rather large company of courtiers and gentlefolk accompanied him, perhaps in an aspiration to testify to his grandeur and significance.

Of course, Rosa well knew that a simple marriage proposal, even to the daughter of such an illustrious personage as the Sheriff of Nottingham himself, did not warrant such pompous proceedings. It was rather the man’s traitorous plans that depended partly upon her father’s cooperation. That Rosa herself was to be merely a pawn in their machinations was for the present the smallest of her problems.

She was informed, directly after his arrival, that her bridegroom awaited her in the garden, so she went forth to him, no hesitation or misgiving evident in her carefully schooled features.