“We will speak of this further in good time,” Robin said.
“Indeed, indeed.”
“Locksley!” another lord called out. “Will you shoot something for us? Show us what you can do!” The man was clearly in his cups, laughing too loudly, too tauntingly.
Robin stiffened before turning to smile at the man. The sly smile. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I don’t seem to have a bow with me. This being a peaceful gathering.”
“Use mine!” Helmsley’s camp had all sorts of weapons, including bows. The drunk lord stumbled to grab one from a rack.
“God save us from idiots,” Robin muttered. “Alas, friend. I must decline. Doesn’t seem quite the time or place for it.”
Helmsley tried to make an end of it, stepping between them. “Now, there’s plenty of food and drink for all. Let us raise a toast to the peace, shall we?”
But the taunting lord would not quit. “Perhaps you’re not as great an archer as they say you are.”
Twenty years earlier, Robin would have taken up the bow and shot the man’s cap off. Marian felt him tense beside her. Gathering up his civility like scattered coins. For a moment, she had no idea what he was going to do.
He laughed and offered a mocking bow. “Perhaps not. You should ask the bards who sing about me, hm?” He turned to Helmsley and William. “Safe journey home, my friends. We’ll speak again soon.”
They bowed in turn and watched Robin and Marian go, walking back to their camp. Marian’s thoughts had scattered utterly. Robin clung to her hand, his touch full of nerves and anger and more.
“Robin . . .” she started. She had a hundred things to say to him.
“What did you think of William de Ros? He seems a nice lad,” he said, as if speaking of the weather.
“When were you going to tell me that you have arranged our eldest daughter’s marriage?”
“Right now.” He smiled, but it didn’t win her over. “It is a good match. She’ll be taken care of. Her children will have land and title. They get the association of our name. I like the boy’s look.”
“Will she like him?”
He hesitated, which he hardly ever did. “I think so. Marian, she’ll have to fly the nest sometime—”
“I would rather she do it in her own time, in her own way. Like we did.”
“You want some nice brave lad to come along and worship at her feet and win her love?”
She knew what a rare and precious thing she and Robin had won for themselves. Looking around, she saw no other husband and wife walking arm in arm, still gazing adoringly at each other after twenty years. One generally did not see husbands and wives together at all. That was only one of the reasons people stared after Robin and Marian. How uncomfortable it was, to have songs and stories told about their love. How lucky they were, to fall in love before they married, rather than hoping to fall in love after.
“And why not?” she said stubbornly.
“I’m trying to do what is best for her. She knows her duty—”
“What a thing to say! What if I had known my duty all those years ago?”
“Marian—”
“Little John was right; you’ve very nearly turned into what you once fought against so fiercely.” She let go of his arm and marched off before she said something even worse.
“My lady—”
“When we return home, you will tell her about this yourself.”
He winced. “I had hoped you would—”
“No.”
“Don’t you think it’s really best for a mother—”