Robin: Lady of Legend (The Classic Adventures of the Girl Who Became Robin Hood) Read Free Page B

beside her on the bed. “I will think of something.”
    “Well, there is nothing to be done, is there?” Marian asked pragmatically as she sank onto the coverlet. “The contract has been signed.”
    “Not by me.”
    Marian took a deep breath. “I would not want to marry him myself,” she confessed, looking slightly shocked at her own daring, as though she had just spoken a great blasphemy.
    Robin laughed without mirth. “Well, you shan’t have to, shall you?”
    “Is he really as bad as people say?” Marian asked quietly.
    “Worse, probably.”
    Her sister shuddered.
    All at once, Robin felt guilty. Marian was only fourteen, what could she know? Then again, most noblewomen were married by that age; Robin supposed she should be thankful that Lord Locksley’s self-centered preoccupation had spared them the inevitable nuptials for so long. It occurred to her that having already arranged one marriage, Lord Locksley might decide to marry her sister off as well, and possibly to someone far worse than Phillip Darniel. ( Not , Robin thought privately, that there is likely to be anyone worse. ) No wonder Marian looked stricken.
    “It will be all right,” Robin repeated, wrapping her arms around her sister’s slender shoulders. Her words were as much for Marian’s comfort as for her own.
    Their comfort was short-lived, however—Darah walked in.
    “Ah, Robin!” she said brightly, interrupting the scene of intimate commiseration. “Your father wishes to discuss with you the comportment for the betrothal ceremony.”
    Robin ignored her.
    “Now, Robin!”
    “You had better go,” Marian whispered, pulling out of Robin’s embrace.
    “If I were a boy,” Robin protested angrily, rising to her feet, “no one would try to make me marry someone I did not wish to wed.” That was not true, of course—at least, not when it came to lords—but Robin did not care. A boy could forgo his inheritance and apprentice himself to a trade, or hire himself out as a soldier if he did not like his potential mate. What options were there for a girl?
    “You are not a boy,” Darah told her bluntly, prodding Robin towards the door. Robin barely noticed. Her father’s words and Darah’s assertion formed a discordant duet in her head: You are not a boy. You are not a boy .
    No, she thought. But I could be .
    “Thank you, Marian,” Robin called to her sister as Darah shoved her into the hall, her mind already conceiving a plan. “I feel much better now.”
     
    * * * * *
     
    The betrothal ceremony took place three days later.
    It was held in front of the manor, so that the peasants who lived on Lord Locksley’s land could witness the rite without having to enter the house. Will Gamwell thought it was foolish to make them come at all—the ceremony was, after all, little more than a formality, since Lord Locksley and Phillip Darniel had signed the marriage contract several days before. Nevertheless, it was customary for the intended couple to publicly exchange oaths of fidelity, and to state aloud the financial recompense should either of them break the engagement. Will supposed Lord Locksley wanted his people to observe this promise from their soon-to-be lord, never mind the inconvenience.
    Will tugged at his scarlet collar and looked around again for his cousin, but failed to espy either Robin or her sister. His uncle, however, he could clearly see standing on the steps leading up to the Hall, talking quietly with the friar. Next to him stood Phillip Darniel, looking resplendent in a rich purple tunic and black hose. It did not seem right to Will that so horrible a man should appear so royally confident and calm. As for Lord Locksley—did he not realize the type of man he was consigning his daughter to?
    Since the day Will had arrived at the manor thirteen years ago—an eight-year old boy reeling from the loss of his parents and uncertain of his welcome in a household that had recently suffered a loss of its own—Robin had been