Everything I Do: a Robin Hood romance (Rosa Fitzwalter Book 1) (4 page)

They returned back to the camp, Rosa dressed as Stuart again, her secret safely tucked inside her hood with her hastily braided hair. Hidden to all eyes except Robin’s. She felt so frightened, so insecure now, that she hardly knew how to behave. Her mind was reeling with questions. What would he do with her now? How would he treat her? Would he distrust her every word, both past and present?

One thing was certain: she had been roughly awakened from her lovely dream and she never hoped to find it again.

Robin couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He now finally understood his protective instincts, his interest in ‘Stuart’ -damn unsuitable name for a fair maiden like her. His heart, however, must have seen this beautiful woman as she was, even if his eyes had been too stupid to do so.

As soon as she had put her clothes on, back at the stream, he had heard her trying to stand up on the rocky, hard ground, and had rushed to her side, helping her find her footing. Then she had started to comb the tangles out of that red, glorious hair, and Robin had found himself swallowing with difficulty past a sudden tightness in his throat.

She was shaking badly, from the cold or from fear he couldn’t way. All he knew was that he should stay away from her, but his fingers ached to touch her again.

“Would you let me help?” he’d asked her gently, as her hands had fallen defeated to her sides.

He had approached her carefully, and took the strands of hair in his calloused fingers. His clothes were drenched and clinging to him, and the water had been freezing, but he didn’t even know it. All he could feel was the fire burning through him as he touched her slender neck.

“I’m not sure what I am supposed to be doing,” he said in a moment, with a self-mocking laugh, trying to hide the strong emotions that were flooding him.

“I need…” she too had seemed to be struggling to speak. “I need to somehow twist it so that it will fit inside my cap. I should hide it…?”

It had almost sounded like a question, and he immediately understood. He braided her hair as best as he could, which wasn’t well at all, but he meant to reassure her that he wouldn’t expose her to his men. At least not right now, not like this.

Now he frowned, remembering that moment.

Was she afraid of him?  Didn’t she know he would die before he’d see her hurt?

He looked at her anxiously, as she sat across from him, next to Will, always a little apart from his men -he noticed it now- and he worried about whether her fall in the river had done her any serious harm, cursing himself for the darkening bruise on her temple. She was so terribly beautiful, even dressed as a boy. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

She helped Father Tuck prepare a quick breakfast for the men, quietly and efficiently, and then sat back and watched eagerly as the men started their daily routines of archery and hand-wrestling.

How could such a fragile creature be so brave?
Robin wondered, unable to concentrate on anything else. How was it possible that such exquisite beauty could belie so much strength?

It never once crossed his mind to doubt her now that instead of a boy he had before him a girl.

CHAPTER
2

THE ARROW

Will you tell me your name?” Robin said gently.

“Please don’t ask me that,” she pleaded, and for the first time she looked up into his eyes. His breath stopped.

They were once more on the road that led to the castle and Robin prayed that the short ride would last forever. He couldn’t think how he would be able to exist after she left him.

‘Stuart’ had announced that he was leaving a few hours after the men had broken their fast, after they had finished their training for the day, and he had insisted on accompanying her, as he always did -nothing extraordinary in that.

Except it was all extraordinary now. All different, all new.

“So what shall I call you?” he persisted. “I cannot very well continue with this  ‘Stuart’ business, can I? At least not when there’s no one about.” He laughed and spread his arm to the silent forest around them, trying to put her at her ease.

Rosa stopped her horse abruptly.

“You will want to speak to me again after what you found out today?” she asked, her eyes rounding in surprise, much like they had done on that first evening they had traveled this same path together.

He reined in his horse as well, and looked down into her serious little face.

“I cannot even begin to imagine,” he said softly, “how I will bear it, worrying for you, knowing that on any evening you may be riding to me through the forest, where some dirty scum may pounce upon you…” He stopped and ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “However”, he went on in a moment, “the thought that you may never come here again, that I may have frightened you away… it’s even more unbearable.”

She looked into his eyes curiously, wondering whether he was sincere. The intensity that she saw there delighted and frightened her at the same time.

“You still trust me then?” she asked finally.

“Trust you? I admire you, I wonder at your courage… I fear it.”

“Fear it?”

“I fear what it may lead you to. And I fear that I might not have had it, were I in your place.”

She bent her head, embarrassed by his praise. They picked up the pace again, and for a few moments no noise interrupted the rhythmical thumping of the horses’ hooves on the hard earth.

“Will you do something for me?” Robin asked a while later.

“What?”

“I want to see your hair,” he said simply. “Please. Just for the last mile, until we reach your destination.”

She took off her hood and Robin reached out and loosened her hair, sending its waves cascading down her shoulders. Then, pursing his lips, he turned away, allowing her horse to precede his as they negotiated a narrow passage. Finally, they stopped. Robin didn’t speak, nor did he climb down from his mount. He just sat there and watched her until time seemed to have stopped.

Slowly, as one in a dream, he took her hand in his large one and brought it reverently to his lips. He pressed a kiss in her soft palm for several moments and then he looked into her sunlit face.

“Promise me that you will come again”, he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with urgency and emotion.

Rosa couldn’t speak, so she nodded mutely. They had arrived as close to the castle as they dared in broad daylight. She tried to turn her horse to leave, but Robin was still holding her hand and wouldn’t let go of it. She turned to him and said:

“Rose. You may call me Rose.”

He reluctantly released her hand, as if now he had something else of hers to hold on to, and she galloped into the opening ahead.

“Rose”, he whispered to himself in the quiet sunshine, the word a soft caress on his lips.

The next time she went to the forest was a bit sooner than was strictly necessary, but she had to make sure for herself that the handsome face that was keeping her awake at nights was in fact real; she had to see him again.

His black eyes, always sparkling with humor and courage weren’t far from her thoughts at all times of the day, and when she closed her eyelids, immediately his tall form would come before her, an overlong lock of black hair drooping over one eye in a roguish manner, his arms tanned and muscular, his legs long and strong, more used to running than walking.

She was thinking of him now, trying to berate herself for her girlish daydreams, but they had been a part of her, an anchor and a reason to hope for so long, it was nearly impossible to discard them. She hadn’t ridden very far into the forest when three green-clad men appeared as if from nowhere, dropping to the ground from an oak tree to her left, and greeted her, their eyes smiling, their lips serious.

“Good day, lass. Are ye well?” said the tallest of the three, the giant known as Little John.

She nodded, but must have looked a little confused, as she felt, for the man hurried to explain, sending uncertain glances to the others. Rosa brought her hand to her cap, wondering whether her hair had betrayed her secret.

“Robin told us,” Little John said quickly, looking like an unsure little boy, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. “You have nothing to fear, miss, I swear.”

“Yes, he’s made us comb the whole forest three times daily, for fear some evil might befall you when you visited us next”, the man who was standing to his left helpfully added. She turned and saw that he was tall and slender, a roguish smile lingering on his lips: Gilbert.

“So that’s why he had to tell you.” Rosa said.

“Well, that and a few sound beatings we gave him until he’d tell us what the big secret was.”

The men laughed and the one who was called Gilbert took the reins of her horse in his hand and led the way.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Rosa asked suddenly.

The men stopped. They all felt so different, now that there was a girl among them instead of a boy. They kept looking at each other, wondering what it was they’d forgotten to do. Rosa couldn’t help herself; she burst out laughing, which made them look even more confused. Finally, when she was able to speak, she said:

“You forgot to put the scarf over my eyes, is all. Are we not getting close to the secret passage that leads to your camp?”

“Oh, no,” Gilbert said, relieved. “The chief said we were to show you the way. Said you would be safer this way. Now be sure to memorize everything, I sure don’t want to have to answer to him if you ever get lost.”

Rosa paled a little, but she let them lead the way in silence.

So now Robin Hood trusted her with the most important secret of his existence. And what’s more, he trusted her with the safety of his men. What had changed? Only that she was now a girl, not a boy. Maybe that was enough for him to know he could trust her. But what if he ever found out who she really was? She quickly shook that thought out of her mind. There was no need to worry about that because it would never happen, she firmly told herself.

A couple of minutes later she was looking into Robin Hood’s midnight eyes. She tired to believe that she wasn’t just imagining the raw joy she saw in there.

“Rose!” he said almost reverently as he brought her hand to his lips.

She looked into his radiant face and didn’t even remember that he wasn’t saying her real name.

After they had eaten they all sat around the huge fire, as was customary, but Robin didn’t do his rounds amongst his men for once.

He sat next to Rosa and stared at her silently. Then he gently took a strand of her red hair in his long fingers and turned in so that it caught the warm light of the fire and turned golden.

“Such a unique color,” he whispered, “like fire itself. Like fire and sun and life. And courage”, he added dreamily. He was speaking in a detached voice, his eyes shut, as if he was reliving some dark corner of his past.

Rosa squirmed in her seat, feeling uncomfortable witnessing what looked like a deeply personal moment of Robin Hood’s. His touch was sending delicious thrills down her spine and she sat absolutely still lest this was a dream and she wake up.

“Your hair reminds me of a story,” Robin told her finally. “A story I bet everyone has long forgotten, except me. I never will forget it, ever. I think on it every single moment of every single day. It is a painful story, not fit for your lovely ears, but looking at you like that I cannot help but remember… Another girl had hair just like yours. A girl that saved my life. And in the process, she lost hers.”

Rosa was surprised to see tears in the corners of his eyes.

She took in a sharp breath. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about with Robin Hood. She clamped down her lips and held her peace, hoping that was all he was going to say on the matter. He went on, however, in a moment, his voice low and shaking with emotion: