My Lord?

You performed a great service to the castle today, he explained. At the very least we owe you safe pa.s.sage home.

Yes, my Lord. You are too kind. But it is highly improper for an unwed girl to be seen riding alone with a He extended his gloved hand to her. She hesitated, fearful of the man who towered above her on his ma.s.sive horse. His hair fluttered in the breeze, highlighted in silver by the glow of the moon overhead.

What would the villagers say if she were seen on the back of Gisbornes horse? What would her father say if he found out shed been riding with him?

Come on, he urged her.

Seeing no other option, and knowing it would never do to refuse a man with such a reputation, she clasped his hand. He gripped hers tightly and pulled her onto the back of his horse.

Hold on, he demanded, and she wrapped her arms firmly around his waist.

He whistled, and the white horse broke suddenly into a gallop.

Where do you live? he asked above the clop of the horses hooves.

Just outside town, down the western lane, she answered.

After a brief ride, they approached her house, and she said, Its that one.

That cottage over there? he asked.

Yes, my Lord.

The horse slowed to a trot as it approached the gate. He dismounted and held his hands up to her, and she took them, allowing him to help her off the horse. Then he turned to survey her meager home.

You live here? he asked, his voice laced with disdain.

Yes, my Lord.

With a husband?

No, my Lord. As I said earlier, I am unwed. I live with my father.

I see. What does your father do?

He is not well, my Lord.

I see. So you support him, do you?

Yes, my Lord.

He clucked his tongue disapprovingly.

Its very small, Gisborne commented with a slight nod toward the tiny cottage.

Yes, my Lord. Im sorry it does not meet with your approval.

It doesnt. Not at all.

Im sorry, my Lord, she apologized again.

Hmm, he muttered, shaking his head.

If youll excuse me, my Lord, she said coldly.

Yes, of course. Good night, Gisborne said, nodding politely.

She watched him mount his horse and gallop away, and she muttered, The nerve of him!

She slammed the door behind her, rattling the shelves and sending a few items clattering to the floor. Her fathers head shot up, his eyes wide.

Whats going on? he muttered.

Im sorry, Father. Im just so angry right now! she snapped.

What happened?

She collapsed into her chair and buried her face in her hands. She gritted her teeth, trying desperately to avoid the inevitable, but she soon burst into tears.

Oh, Father! she wailed. Its awful! Robins been captured at the castle, and... and that Gisborne!

Gisborne? her father asked. Whatd he do?

He brought me home and had the nerve to insult me insult our home! she cried. How dare he look down on us? Its Blackstocks fault we live like this! Oh, Father, he looked absolutely disgusted when he saw the house. Disgusted!

Her fathers eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

And what of Robin? he asked.

They tried to rob the castle, she said. There was a problem, and I was trying to help them escape, and...

KNOCK-KNOCK!.

Marian gasped, her hand covering her heart. What if it was Gisborne? What if hed heard her say she had been trying to help Robin escape? With her knees wobbling and barely able to hold her aloft, she crossed the room to the door and opened it. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.

John! she breathed. Come in!

She stepped aside, and John Little ducked under the doorway. Once inside, he closed the door behind him and stood to his full size, hulking above her, his head touching the ceiling.

Thank you, maam, he said politely, removing his hat and clutching it in his hands.

I suppose you heard what happened? Marian asked.

I heard rumblings, yes, he said. I saw the procession coming and I high tailed it out of there, but when Robin didnt show up, I headed into town. Heard they got captured.

Its all my fault! she wailed, burying her face into Johns ma.s.sive chest.

His thick arms wrapped around her as she sobbed, holding her closely, comforting her. He squeezed her tightly.

There, there. Whats this, now? he asked. How is it your fault?

I was trying to help them escape, but we were trapped, so I punched Robin in the face and shouted for the guards, she moaned, her voice m.u.f.fled by Johns broad chest.

John was silent. Then he snorted. Then he burst into laughter. Marians face reddened, and she backed away and glared up at him. His face was pink, and his head was tilted back as he laughed, tears rolling down his glowing red cheeks.

I fail to find the humor in this! she snapped, crossing her arms defiantly in front of her.

You punched Robin? he guffawed. Oh, I cant wait to rub this one in his face!

John! Robins likely to be executed! Marian shouted. How can you laugh at a time like this?

Johns laughter slowly waned into a slight chuckle, and then it finally subsided. With the back of his arm, he wiped the tears of laughter away from his cheeks. He took a deep breath.

Dont you worry one bit, Marian, John said. Well get him out of there.

How? Theyll have that place locked down tight with the banquet tomorrow.

You just let us worry about that, he said.

What can I do to help? she asked.

I thought you didnt want to get involved, John said, a sly twinkle in his eye.

Its my fault Robins in this mess, she said. I have to help.

I think its best if you just stay out of it for now, John told her. Youve done enough. You shouldnt risk anything more.

But, I...

Stop it, John said, putting his arm around her shoulder. This isnt your fault.

Hes right, Marian, her father said weakly from his chair. Robin knew the risks when he went in there.

Marian nodded, sniffling.

Well get him out, John said firmly. I promise.

Marian nodded again, and John opened the door. He turned around and bowed lightly, and Marian smiled weakly. He closed the door behind him.

I know what youre thinking, Marian, her father said. Dont do it.

Father, I have to, she said.

Robin wouldnt want you to. You heard John. This is too risky for you.

Not wanting to worry her father, she said, Yes, youre right, Father. Ill let John handle it.

As she hurried about preparing dinner, a plan began to develop inside her head. She knew what she had to do.

CHAPTER THREE.

Marian completed her ch.o.r.es well before the c.o.c.k crowed the next morning, and she made it to the castle right at sunup. The guards were on alert, and dozens of them roamed the halls and stood erect at every corner.

She gathered a basket of food and made her way down to the dungeon. Her hands trembled nervously as she approached the door. She cleared her throat, and the guard, who was sleeping in a chair beside the door, immediately stood at attention.

Ive brought food for the prisoners, she said confidently.

The guard said nothing, rattling the keys in the iron lock. The door clanged open, and she stepped inside, the guard closing it behind her with a bang.

Robin, she whispered outside the door of his cell.

Marian?

Ive come to get you out of here, she whispered.

I told you to let John handle this! he hissed at her.

Shut up and pretend youre sick, she said.

What?

Just do it!

Robin groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes in jest at his own uproarious overacting.

Guard! Marian shouted. Guard, help!

The door clanged, and the guard rushed toward her.

Guard, quick, send for the physician! she barked.

What for? the guard asked.

Robin groaned more loudly from within the cell, and Marian clenched her jaw to suppress laughter.

The prisoner is sick. Lord Blackstockwill have your head if this prisoner doesnt make it to hisvery public execution, Marian snapped. Now go!

I... I cant, he said. Ive orders not to...