Читаем Bound by Honor полностью

Already a tall, imposing man, he appeared even more forbidding on the massive horse, with his wide shoulders, hawk nose, and unrelieved dark clothing. Though the standard of Nottingham was embroidered along the edges of his tunic, those colors were muted: dark blue and green on black, with only a smattering of burgundy in the design.

He looked directly at her as she laughed, and Marian felt her gaiety quelled. Would he come over to her, publicly claiming her as he’d done last night?

Will’s actions last evening in the great hall had not been commented on by any of her companions, and although it was likely a futile wish, she hoped that none of them had been able to see who it was that the sheriff had backed up against the wall. Many of them had been facing the high table or the center of the hall, where the jongleurs were still playing, and his large body may well have blocked sight of her own . . . from everyone except the prince.

Marian turned away from Will’s gaze, which had lingered heavily. She pushed aside the awareness of what they’d shared last evening, and slammed her heels into the sides of her horse, ready to leave the thoughts-and him-behind.

She took off after the hunters who barreled through the woods, fast and furious, following the hounds as they ran down their prey. When the boar was sighted, shouts and cries rose from the men, who’d followed more closely than the ladies-for ’twas only a fool who came too close to the murderous red-eyed beasts without a spear to thrust home. Ladies did not have the strength to drive one through the tough brindle of the fast and furious boar.

As the men charged off, the women rode along together at a less frantic, yet still exhilarating, pace that allowed them the opportunity to gossip and chat. The tiny Alys rode next to Marian, who on her other side found Lady Joanna, who seemed to be particularly smug this day.

“And he wrapped this around my wrist and tugged me into a dark corner,” Joanna said, waving what appeared to be a scrap of green ribbon.

“Were you not frightened?” asked Lady Pauletta, who’d pulled her mare up closer to the group to admire the ribbon.

“Nay, indeed, for he was so witty and charming. And of course I knew that I could call for help if I must, for Lord Burle had just left my side. But I had no need for that.” Joanna looked across Alys’s horse at Marian. “Did you find Robin Hood frightening when he accosted your wagons, Lady Marian?”

“A bit disconcerting,” she replied, “but not terribly frightening.” Robin had been in Ludlow Keep last night? What on earth had possessed him to be so bold?

“He was in the keep?” Alys said, echoing Marian’s thoughts. “How foolish of the man to be wandering about the very place his enemies sleep.”

“I did not realize how brave he is,” Joanna said, fairly crooning at her ribbon. “Brave and kind.”

“Brave and kind?” Alys scoffed. “Foolish is a better word, aye, Marian?”

“But he did not kiss you, and leave you with his favor, did he?” Joanna said, fluttering said favor in the breeze. “He is a beautiful kisser. I vow you would change your mind if he did so.”

“You say the man is kind?” Marian asked. “By kissing you in the corner?”

“Nay, of course not,” Lady Pauletta said. “You must have heard the tales of how he helps the villagers-poor sots that they are. They consider him some sort of hero for delivering chickens and goats, and once even spreading a bit of coin among them.”

“The goods he purchases with the money he steals from the king,” Alys said drily. “An outlaw indeed.”

“But he does not keep it for himself,” protested Joanna. “He uses it for the good of the poor. And he is wickedly handsome, is he not, Marian? Or did he wear his famous hood when he met you?”

The others looked at Marian. Oh, indeed, Robin of the Hood was wickedly handsome, and charming . . . and a delightful kisser. And bold and brave and foolish all at once. To risk himself by sneaking into the keep when the sheriff could catch sight of him at any moment . . .

Marian realized her companions expected a response. “He is not hard on the eyes,” she conceded.

“Ware!” came a sudden shout, followed by frenzied crashing in the bushes.

The women looked up to see swaying and shuddering deep in the brush, and in an instant saw that they were in the path of the hunt.

Marian gathered up her reins, wheeling her horse to the side and away, kicking it into a gallop. The other women scattered as the cries of the hounds became louder and more frantic, and the bellows of the men echoed through the forest as they bore down on the very place they’d been riding.