“Why do you gather your most trusted men?” Mariel asked, urging him to continue. To her irritation, he took his time sipping his wine, his perfectly messy hair hanging forward around his face. “And whilst we’re discussing it, why have I been invited to your council?”
“The supplies we hid in the forest? Beneath the leaves?” he prompted.
“What of them?”
“’Tis not exactly true that they are there for resupplying. I mean it is, but—”
“What else is their purpose?” she asked.
“For hiding,” he said. “Highwaymen have recently been harrying the Sheriff of Nottingham when he goes on outings to evict the next unlucky soul. Alas, he abuses his power, and much of what he does is for his own gain. Much like what his newfound friend does, the Sheriff of Ayr. Mayhap you know him?”
A quick glance around the room told her his men, leaning upon the table with goblets in one hand and coats slouched open, had put the rather simple clues together. She was related to the Beast of Ayr. Most likely she was the flighty daughter.
“Why would you need to hide?” she asked. “Have these men started plaguing you, too?”
No one answered the question, but a knowing smile lifted Will’s mouth as he sipped his wine, and Jonathan gave a nonchalant exhale as he leaned his bulk on his elbow against the table. Robert looked at them all, a smile tugging at his lips, yet not quite lifting them, then squared himself in front of her as he, too, leaned an elbow onto the table, sipping his wine lazily.
“Wait,” Mariel breathed, watching his rings glitter in the light shining through the windows. “Don’t tell me you are…” She shook her head. “You’re the ones behind the harassment? You’re the thieves?”
“We prefer to call ourselves Good Samaritans.”
“How so?” she demanded. “You led me to believe at the tourney that the woods were unsafe for me because of thieves. And it’s you I should have been wary about all along?”
“Oh don’t go acting like you’re shocked by the ways of the world,” Robert said. “Men scheme. And we here are men. Well, except for you. But we scheme for the good of others. We generally target William de Wendenal of Nottingham. Surely you can appreciate that, considering your fath–” He cut himself off, but she didn’t need him to finish the sentiment. Considering her father was cut from the same cloth.
“Oh, I see,” she said. “But it matters not whom you steal from. You’re still stealing.”
“No,” Alan said, the quietest of the group. “We appropriate what was ill-gotten and put it back to good use.”
“And I can see its good use,” Mariel remarked, giving a sweeping gesture of the extravagance around her.
“Don’t imply I steal for my own gain,” Robert said, his voice suddenly serious and his expression stern.
“What, then, would one assume?” she asked, perching a hand on her hip in a way only a woman scolding a child could do.
“Mayhap you should not assume,” Will chimed in, taking another sip of wine.
She looked at Will, then at Alan, and Jonathan. David the mute was no doubt thankful from his posture that he couldn’t speak to put his foot in his mouth.
“What do you do with the money, if you don’t keep it?” she finally asked Robert.
“It’s given to charity and people who need it due to Nottingham’s cruel edicts. Basically, given back to the very people who were wronged in the first place.”
She shook her head and folded her arms. “And what am I supposed to do now that I know of your deceitful ways?”
Robert’s face lit up with a boyish grin and he braced his hands on each of her shoulders to command her full attention. “You’re to join us. I need your archery skills as well as your disappearing talents, because, heaven knows Little John here is a lousy shot and hard to hide.” He flashed an impish look at Jonathan, who straightened up and puffed his chest with offense.
“What?” Jonathan demanded.
“Oh, ’tis the nickname Elmer bestowed upon you.” Robert laughed as the others began to snigger.
“What?” he exclaimed, glaring at her now.
“I told you she had named you for, em, your size, did I not?” Robert added to the rising laughter amongst the others and the growing rage boiling on John’s face.
“Robert!” Mariel exclaimed and smacked his arm. “That was not my intention!”
“What other intention would you have, woman, except to insult me after I showed you kindness?” John groused.
“Well, are you little, John?” Will taunted.
The others chuckled. John’s lips curled up in a confident smirk as he turned his glare on Will. He ripped his tunic aside to reveal the dusting of hair on his toned stomach and began to tug at the laces of his breeches.
“Do you need to see to pass judgment?”
Mariel whirled around and threw her hands over her face, knowing heat crawled across every inch of her cheeks. “Keep yourself decent!” she implored, only to hear a rumble of laughter. “Oh, you all are purely vile! I didn’t make up the name! Robert did! And I was referencing your actual, em, size! In full height and breadth!” She turned around to see John grinning, winking at her and lacing back up his trousers as the other men laughed uncontrollably.
“Nope, not little,” Will replied, wiping a tear from his eye.
“Did he really just…” Mariel couldn’t complete her shocked words.
Her mouth gaped open and she threw her hands to her sides, striding purposefully for the door. Robert made chase again.
“I advise you to keep your bloody paws to yourself,” she warned him.
He ignored her demand, leaping in front of her once more, and grabbed both her shoulders.
She punched his arms away.
“They tease you now. I tease you, woman! I tease those that I like. John. You. I only tease. Stop…” He hushed his voice. “He didn’t, Mari. He boasted, certainly, but he kept himself concealed.”
With Robert blocking her only escape, she had no choice but to stop. She sighed, folding her arms and popping a hip.
“I tire of your antics. I’m leaving.” She flung her braid over her shoulder and moved to bypass him.
To her surprise, he finally stepped aside. Breathing a sigh of relief, she reached for the latch, when he dipped his head and placed his lips upon hers, offering a gentle yet intimate kiss. Stunned, she froze. He continued to kiss her, coaxing participation from her lips until eventually she returned it, albeit grudgingly.
A whistle from behind them snapped her back to reality, and she wrenched herself away. He smiled, wiping the moisture from his lips. “I knew you didn’t hate me,” he murmured, pecking her cheek. “John. She was making the point that you’re by far the most sizable man here, and no, she was not referencing your cock.” Just the use of the lewd word made Mariel throw her hands over her face again. “And if memory serves me,” Robert stated, taking her hand in his to coax her back into the room, “she was giving me a tongue lashing at the time for being inhospitable, whilst you, John, had been the only man to welcome her kindly.”
To Mariel’s relief, the tension thrumming through the room seemed to shift, but John was looking with puzzlement between her and Robert now, watching her lips.
“I’ll accept your apology,” he said grudgingly to Robert.
The perpetual twinkle in Robert’s eye sparkled as he looked at Mariel. “Assuming I’m offering an apology. To Elmer, I offer my deepest apology. To you, John, I’ll leave it to you to exact your revenge against me as men must do.”
With Mariel in hand, he brought her back to the table yet again. She couldn’t bring herself to look at any of them.
“Careful I do not exact revenge as well,” she muttered, garnering a round of chuckles from the others. “Honestly, how do each of you tolerate him?”
“With drink,�
�� Will said, lifting his glass in salutation and taking another sip. “We tolerate Robert with copious amounts of drink. Will you join us? Robert hand-picked each of us to be on this council before his father died and has been searching for one more man, to no avail. You clearly made one hell of an impression on him.”
She looked to Robert, who, despite his antics had a genuinely hopeful look on his face, then at John, who appeared sullen yet curious. Alan seemed skeptical, and Will, eager. David was looking down but flashed glances at her.
“I would need to see what you do before I agree to help. If even one stolen copper goes into your coffers, I’ll know you’re a fraud.”
Robert grinned and tugged her against his side, turning to the others. “I believe my band of men is complete.”
“And woman,” she added.
“And woman,” he conceded with an exaggerated bow.
“Not until I see for myself that the money you take is—”
“You’ll see the truth of it soon enough,” he interrupted. “David tells me Nottingham is traveling home to his castle right now. Whenever he travels, there is a possibility that someone will be harmed and so, I’ll be ready for any news brought to my gates. We know he’ll be traveling back through East Anglia to continue his version of tax collection two days from now. In other words, he’ll be evicting another poor bugger and taking his last coin at the point of a sword.” He looked back down at Mariel, tucked beneath his shoulder.
“I thought you said David couldn’t speak,” Mariel remarked, looking at David.
Robert glanced down at her as his men chuckled again.
“Alas no, he cannot speak, but he can write like a Franciscan monk.” He winked. “Dressed as a serf, Nottingham never suspects him of being literate. What say you? ’Twill be the perfect time to witness our benevolence. Are you game, Elmer?”
She glanced at their faces once more. Lord, what was she getting herself into? “On condition you prove you’re the Samaritans you claim to be, then aye, I’ll help.”
She was met with grins.
“And for the record,” John said, still glancing uncertainly between her and Robert, “he calls me a lousy shot because I bested him with a bow and arrow once and he can’t let it go, because he’s the sorest little prick of a loser to walk God’s green earth.”
With that, he swept to the door and wrenched it back, striding out as once again, the men chuckled at his expense, unaware of John’s curious mood change. But Mariel could tell. He wanted her. And now he knew that Robert wanted her, too. Robert then turned to Mariel as the other men filed out, the ceaseless twinkle in his eye that seemed to hint at a scheme or a jest.
“Now, to keep my flighty Scottish lass tethered long enough,” he murmured cryptically.
“What on earth does that mean?” Mariel demanded.
“You’ll see,” he said, dipping his head to hers once more and placing a quick peck upon her lips.
“Tethered?” Unease sank in her gut and she bristled. Use of such a word was frightening, and she didn’t kiss him back. He pulled away and scrutinized her. “What game do you play at?”
…
So tethered wasn’t the word to use with a woman fleeing a father who had tethered her many a time. But it was what he intended, even if it involved no ropes or bondage. But he needed time to work up the courage to invite a marriage between them, and with Crawford lurking about East Anglia, time wasn’t a luxury he had. And until any union was struck, Mariel would remain a flight risk. He softened his teasing and caressed her face, his thumb lingering on her chin. But it was clear she didn’t trust him. Why should she? He had confessed to leading the bandits thieving in the forests.
Confusion had captured her eyes. He trailed his hands down to hers and took them. A dull ache entered his chest. He had already resolved himself to marry her, so the ache wasn’t because of that. But he was most definitely…nervous? Indeed. Just thinking about something so serious as a marriage offer was enough to make his pulse increase and his hands threaten to tremble.
“I only meant I wish to keep you here long enough to see the benevolent work that we do. Nothing more,” he lied. There was so much more.
Chapter Twelve
Harold Crawford continued to canter his horse northward toward Nottingham Castle with his contingent taking up his flanks. The afternoon sun beat down on them and, despite the crispness in the autumn air, they sweat. Glancing back, he could still see the Earl of Huntington’s escort remaining at the tree line demarcating his extensive property.
It was obvious, no, palpable, Robert Huntington’s wariness of him. The fact that the young earl was so wary caused his neck to prickle with both unease and curiosity. And what noble was fool enough to travel on his own, alone, without protection in the woods? A lord always had enemies, and thieves most certainly would have no qualms about stealing, especially from a noble, if they thought they could get away with it.
According to the Sheriff of Nottingham, there were thieves who used the East Anglian forests to conceal their moves and plan their next attacks. Nottingham himself had been confronted more than once…and bested, Crawford suspected, though Nottingham had not admitted it. Judging from where Crawford encountered Robert the morning before, the young earl must have traveled overnight for a few hours after swiving his peasant woman to make it as far as he had when they’d encountered each other. Dead fish were known to stink. And there was a dead fish somewhere in the tale Robert had woven for him.
He faced forward, glancing over the rolling fields cleared and separated by stone walls to keep the mutton within their enclosures. One thing was certain. Huntington had inherited power, along with vast sums of wealth and property. And despite being young, he was bold and sure-footed when standing toe-to-toe with a powerful man such as himself. If he thought the young earl an easy puppet, or a pushover, he would be sorely mistaken.
Yet the idea of betrothing Mariel to him held merit. Still. He wanted to drag her back to Castle Ayr by her blonde braid and beat some obedience into the lass once and for all. Each day that passed, leaving her unfound, was an added humiliation. And quite frankly, he really didn’t care if he sent the little wench to her grave at this point.
Yes, he did, he stopped himself. Bringing her within an inch of her life was one thing, but killing her would leave him with no one competent to inherit Castle Ayr should he be unable to marry her to a son-in-law worth his salt. He hadn’t educated Madeline, his younger legitimate daughter. The waif was as a woman should be. Quiet, obedient, ignorant, innocent. She didn’t have any qualities of a leader. And Mariel shouldn’t have those qualities, but it chafed him to know that she did. She was bold, surefooted, questioned things she shouldn’t, and despite having taught her the lesson time and again, could not be forced into submission. Time and again, she had stood tall and walked away from him with her chin lifted in defiant pride even when he knew her body felt broken. If she was no match for his physical strength, she was indeed a match for his fortitude.
His daughter Madeline could be married off to whomever he chose. But Castle Ayr needed to stay in his succession, and Mariel had just the guts for the job. Except, she had abandoned home. For a woman, Mariel was bloody smart and resourceful. Ah, the damned lass. As useful as she would be in a marriage alliance, one slap across her face would never suffice for the months of embarrassment she had caused him to endure. And too many slaps would kill her.
As the land rolled, hiding all signs of a forest behind them below the horizon, he held up his fist.
“Halt, men.” He growled.
The group pulled back on the reins, and Crawford turned to his lead guardsman who had accompanied him inside the Huntington keep.
“You, Teàrlach, will go back, whilst we continue onward to William of Nottingham’s castle.”
“Back, m’laird?” asked the quiet guardsman with rich amber eyes.
; “’Tis nay a secret you’re skilled at blending in. Robert hardly noticed you in his keep, and he’s no dimwit.”
“Aye, but he still noticed me, Laird. He would recognize me.”
“Only if he sees your face. Which he nay will.”
“What did you have in mind?” Teàrlach asked, his dark curling hair ruffling in the wind as he eased a finger underneath the neck of his gambeson to readjust it.
“I want you to sleuth for me. Pick up clues. I was nay satisfied with Robert’s explanations about Mariel.”
“Do you think he harbors her?”
Harold thought for a moment, giving voice to the thoughts in his mind. “I can nay tell if he does so consciously or without any knowing. Mayhap she’s there or mayhap Robert’s overly wary, but I sense if ever there was a safe haven for the wench, that this would be the spot to hide. He welcomes beggars and offers them abode, and he can nay see everyone personally who seeks refuge. But one thing is certain: he’s fiercely protective of his holdings.”
On one hand, he thought, it made for a strong leader. He, too, was fiercely protective. On the other hand, he reminded himself, people who were fiercely protective often had much to protect.
“Am I to declare myself at all?”
“Nay.” Crawford shook his head. “You’re to spy on him, his activities, anyone coming and going from his gates, his guards. Anything that seems suspicious. Mayhap it’s for naught, but mayhap I’ll be rewarded for my intuition.”
Teàrlach nodded and turned his horse.
“Make certain you remain unseen, and rejoin me by the full moon at Nottingham Castle,” the sheriff said. “Unless something happens that warrants your return sooner.”
Teàrlach bowed his head in acquiescence before returning up the field from whence they had just traversed.
…
Knocking roused Mariel earlier than she would have liked, a soft rapping of the knuckles upon her bedchamber door. She rolled over and stared at the canopy above her, listening. The sound came again. She sat up and pulled aside a drape, noting that no light seeped through the window shutters, blocking out the crisp autumn wind blowing in surges against the latch. Which meant it was still dark.
An Earl for an Archeress Page 14
