“Are they as difficult to manage as your husband?”
The question stretched the limits of her diplomatic skills. She said, very sweetly, “Happily, they are very much like my husband. No one will ever take advantage of them.”
In the slight pause that followed, Marian wondered if she had undone all of the advantages Robin and the other barons had won here. But King John laughed.
“You were wasted on him, my dear.” He looked Robin up and down in that calculating way he had. Marian put pressure on Robin’s hand again. Be quiet, for just another moment.
“Sire,” she murmured. And then they were dismissed, to let the next baron play out the niceties.
Out of sight of the royal pavilion, she wrapped her arm around Robin’s and leaned into him, to let herself rest a moment. “You did well,” she said. “I didn’t have to gag you.”
He laughed, and she was relieved the sound was genuine and not forced. Polite, forced laughter didn’t suit Robin a bit.
“Just this once, he’s right,” her husband said as they walked on. “About you being wasted on me. You should have married a prince.” His face was still refined despite the wrinkles at his eyes, a touch of gauntness at his cheeks. He’d grown more thoughtful, some of his starry brightness not dimmed, but turned inward.
“You think I would have been happy, doing this sort of thing every day? I’m much happier with you.” He raised her hand and kissed it.
She started back for their camp, but Robin turned a different way.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’ve been speaking with Robert de Ros. I thought you should hear what he has to say.”
Sir Robert de Ros, Baron of Helmsley, one of the rebels from the north, an ally of Robin’s. “I thought the war was done.” What mischief was he planning? Robin will retire from mischief, she vowed.
“This isn’t about the war.” Robin led her to a small encampment that had a celebratory air, streamers fluttering from tent poles, a musician playing lute. Marian found she wasn’t in the mood for music or merriment.
“Locksley!” A polished middle-aged man called out and came over from the gathering in the camp. He was accompanied by a much younger man with a thin beard and careful manner. The young one kept glancing at the older, then at Robin and Marian with an astonished look that suggested he might flee at any moment. She’d seen that look before; Robin frequently inspired it. “My lady,” Helmsley said, bowing cautiously, as if gauging an unknown horse’s temperament.
“Good day, Sir Robert,” she said.
“You did your duty to the king?” Robert de Ros said to Robin, nodding off to the royal pavilion.
“I am not ashamed to say I kept my mouth shut and hid behind my wife’s skirts. His Majesty was much more pleased to speak with Lady Marian, anyway.”
Robert laughed, as he was meant to. “I’m glad you’re here. I would very much like to present to you my eldest son, William. William, this is the Baron of Locksley and his Lady Marian. You might have heard of them.”
William pulled himself together and managed a bow with some poise to it. “My lord, my lady, it’s an honor, truly.” He didn’t even stammer. Perhaps there was some hope for him.
“Well met, young William,” Robin said. “Your father let you in for any excitement this past year?”
“I suppose it depends on what you’d call excitement,” William said, glancing at his father, shrugging as if he was afraid of giving the wrong answer. “Nothing like all the things you’ve done. I helped fortify the manor and held it for him while he went off to the war. Not so exciting, really. But it could have been.”
“I’m very glad it wasn’t. Good man.”
The young man grinned happily at the praise and gave another quick bow.
Sir Robert turned calculating. “He is a good man. I think it would be a good match for both our families.”
Marian froze, William b
lushed red. Robin had been making deals, it seemed.
Robin said, “We’d like to keep Mary with us for another year or so. But yes, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.”
“Oh, of course, plenty of time to decide such things. But those of us in the north, we need to stick together, don’t we?”
Would this be a political alliance, or was he looking for money? Or simply the name, to be able to claim family ties to Locksley? Who could say; William de Ros seemed pleasant enough. Marian liked that his manner was earnest and not arrogant. She reassured herself that no one would dare treat Mary poorly, for risk of angering her famous father.