Page 17 of Robin and Marian
And yet here they were, both getting ready in Robin’s room. Tuck didn’t like to be alone. He was less of a mystery to Robin than his family was. The way they looked at him made it hard for him to remember that he wasn’t guilty. Guy, he could understand. Who knew what damage this embezzlement had done to the family name? But Scarlett? Was she so scared of what she’d done that she could barely stand to be in his company? He had to get it through to her that it was okay. He’d paid the price and he had no intention of dragging her down with him.
Tuck finally got the board off his foot and heaved out in disgruntlement. “I can’t be seen with you tonight,” he said.
Amusement traveled through Robin. Did Tuck finally get that they could get locked up for it? “So now you’re worried?”
He shrugged. “I’m new to the neighborhood and I have to watch my reputation. The whole town is mad at you.”
Sighing, Robin sat on his bed. “Well, I don’t want to be seen with the youth pastor. People might think I’ve grown soft.”
Tuck looked hurt. “Is it too much for you to be a little supportive of my new vocation?”
Robin laughed. “Maybe you could support me going clean.”
“Except you didn’t commit the crime in the first place.”
Robin had never told him that. Tuck had strange moments of clarity. “Of course I did it.” He forced himself to stay calm. It was vital that Tuck never incriminate Scarlett—she could still go to prison, despite everything Robin had done to save her.
Tuck snorted and buffed at his shoes. “Relax! I might hang out with you if that’s what you want, but I won’t eat your food. You really eat duck in blood sauce and corn fungus?”
“No!” Robin felt like he had whiplash from the change of conversation. “I mean,Idon’t. And they call those by much fancier names so it doesn’t seem so gross.”
“A rose by any other name still tastes awful.” Tuck straightened. “Okay, I might try it, but only if you try not to embarrass me tonight.”
That left Robin blinking. “Okay, I promise.” Before Tuck could twist his brain into more pretzels, Robin ushered him through the door. “Let’s go!” Despite Tuck’s odd starts, Robin was glad he was there to get his mind off his troubles. Hopefully that was all the wannabe youth pastor did that night.
The music became louder as they neared the party. It was held in the courtyard and lush garden between Robin and where the rest of his family was staying. Judging by the loud murmur of talking and laughing, there were a lot of people, practically the whole town by the sounds of things. Guy had been merciless in his invitations.
Robin slowed the closer he came, wondering how many of these guests would be hostile. This might not have been the greatest of ideas. Men had been driven to drink for less. Of course, that was against his parole too.
Tuck reached out and patted his back. “Does your ex-girlfriend have a meat cleaver?”
“No.”
“Hmm, then I guess this isnothinglike my five-year high school reunion. Proceed.”
Giving him a double-take, Robin took a deep breath and stepped into the brightly lit party. People crowded the grounds and the long stretches of marble balconies and staircases. On either side, there were tables of mouthwatering delicacies that Robin hadn’t touched in years. Despite Tuck’s earlier complaints, they drew his young friend like a bear to honey and he popped a bacon-wrapped water chestnut into his mouth. “Not bad,” he said. His mouth was full as he filled a plate with them along with sausage rolls and buttered croissants.
Robin couldn’t eat a thing. He stared at the pool in the middle of the courtyard. It had been there since he was a kid. It glittered under the twinkling lights that dangled over their heads and wrapped through a bright canopy of flowers that rivaled the glitziest wedding in India—only the best for Richard’s retirement.
Wherever Robin walked, splashes of people stepped back, their dress shoes scraping against the cobbled pavement. That turned into a wave of heads craning to get a better view of him. With difficulty, Robin kept himself from reacting. He’d singlehandedly created a split through the crowd all the way to where Robin’s grandfather made a toast in his tuxedo as if they’d parted the Red Sea for him to walk through.
“I’ve enjoyed working with all of you thoroughly,” Richard told the spectators. He held up his glass, his other hand pushed deeply into his pocket. He looked more tired than anything, the red rings under his eyes puffier than usual. “Now it’syourturn to enjoy yourselves.” His voice trailed off at the disturbance, and he peered over the heads to smile tensely at Robin. “Ah, another grandson! Welcome to the party, Robin.”
An awkward silence followed his introduction. Robin had hoped that making his entrance in a crowded party like this would let him hide, but it only created a bigger disturbance. He raised his hand and waved. “It’s okay, everyone. My grandfather has no intention of leaving his business to me. Please, continue with the party.”
That earned him an uneasy laugh from his grandfather. Perhaps now he was realizing the error of inviting his own little jailbird. “We also hid his bow and arrows,” Richard said into the mic. “We’ll have no trouble from Robin tonight.”
A few laughs drifted through the crowd, and soon more people were listening to Richard than gossiping about his grandson. At least it seemed like it. Robin’s gaze drifted to the other side of the courtyard where he caught the full onslaught of Little John’s black, glaring eyes bearing down on him. This was one victim of the embezzlement that Robin didn’t mind keeping his distance from.
John’s meaty hands clenched to the railings as if using it to fully support his formidable weight. He’d grown more than a beard over the years; he was even more massive, his dark arms bulked with muscle—he could easily have taken on “the King” from prison.
“I hope you don’t mind?” Robin recognized Guy’s voice behind him as his black-haired cousin leaned over him to chuckle darkly. “I invited all the people who hate you.”
“How considerate,” Robin said, feeling helpless against this onslaught. He couldn’t hide from this anymore. Almost as if hungry for punishment, he scanned the crowd to find more familiar faces. He caught sight of Peter Shelley, a gaunt man with white hair growing everywhere but his head. He was older than Richard and should’ve been able to retire by now had it not been for what he’d lost. To his right and slightly up the stairs, Lionel Bertram’s hand rested on Natalie’s sequined shoulder. The distinguished couple didn’t look like they’d taken a hit, but they’d always managed to keep up appearances. They’d be knee-deep in debt to accomplish such a feat. Missy Brandon and her twin brother Sean were standing by a pillar sparkling with lights. Their parents must’ve had the good sense to boycott the party. Their restaurant on Main Street had folded three years ago; they’d sent him the notice while he was in prison.
A pang of regret dug through him when he found Marian’s aunt. Elinor had pasted on a determined smile and clapped for her oldest friend, Richard, but Robin noticed the tightness to her lips. Tom was no longer at her side. Had Robin driven him to an early grave? It was hard for him not to think of this as being his fault, not when he bore the brunt of their accusing looks.
Guy sniggered beside Robin, and his focus darted back to him. His cousin looked impeccable in a dark blue Kiton suit with a subtle pin-dot pattern, but Robin was drawn to his eyes as they glinted with revenge. “Tell me the conditions of your parole,” Guy said. “You can’t go within twenty feet of your victims?”
