Page 3 of Robin and Marian
Marian caught sight of a smaller boy of about five years of age. He had a bow in his hand. His small finger pointed to an ugly painting against the wall with several arrows shot through it. They’d been using this room for target practice? How little they thought of the furniture… or of money.
“This is my Uncle Midge,” Robin introduced the child. “Also my godchild.” Yes, Marian remembered hearing about him. The young boy clearly looked up to Robin; he was a miniature of him, actually, with freckles, almond-shaped eyes, and a pointed chin. Robin’s grandfather had remarried a much younger woman, and Midge was the result of their union… before she’d run off with an artist. Come to think of it, was this one of the man’s ugly paintings Scarlett had talked about? She peered at it, but the torn flaps obscured the signature.
Robin ruffled the boy’s hair. “He was not supposed to actually let the arrow go. So there’s that.”
“And who would be the one who gave him the arrow, pray tell?” The final member of Alan’s bachelor party drew forward with dark, sullen looks. He was clean-shaven with black, heavy brows, and his hair was tied up in a hipster topknot. He wore a suit jacket with matching pants and a casual knit shirt. It took Marian a little longer to name him, but then she felt a wave of recognition run through her at his British accent. “But sure,” he said in his haughty tone, “blame the child.”
Ah yes, this was Robin’s cousin, Guy. He’d grown up in England with his mother. She had refused to play along with what she dubbed Richard’s “childish obsession,” and in so doing, unknowingly named him after one of Robin Hood’s greatest villains. It was a source of great teasing amongst his cousins. Just like the others, Marian hadn’t seen him for years.
Yet when he saw her, he hurried to pick up her hand and kiss it. His brown eyes were full of meaning. “What are you doing here with us vile men, Marian? Isn’t Scarlett’s party interesting enough for you?”
Finally, someone hadn’t seen her as the servant. She felt a smile tug at her lips. Guy’s British charm had always been hard to resist. When they’d been younger, her parents had teased the two that they’d arrange their marriage. She was ashamed to admit that that kind of talk had ended after Guy’s parents had lost their fortunes in poor investments.
Looking over at Robin, she shrugged. “Robin always did try to get me into trouble.” She cast him what she hoped was a teasing glance. “Just like old times.” Robin’s shoulders stiffened as he turned to actually look at her. His beautiful hazel eyes took her all in. Marian felt too amused to be angry. His astonished expression made everything worth it.
“Marian?” Robin stretched to his feet to retrieve her hand from Guy. “Why didn’t you say anything?” His gaze swept over her again, including that hateful apron. “My own littleMaidMarian?”
Marian reddened and slipped away from him. She was not about to be tonight’s entertainment. Marian liked to keep both feet on the ground when it came to men, and Robin had a way of making her feel imbalanced.
John groaned behind him. “When will you drop the nicknames, Rob?”
“How about never,Little John?” Robin was all smiles and Marian felt her knees weaken when he directed all his charm at her. “Not when Maid Marian has come back to me.”
Oh, there had been a time when she’d hoped that Robin was her destiny. After all, wasn’t her name Marian? But she knew better now. She fought back her blushes with a laugh. “Why are you shooting arrows in the house?”
“You should be proud.” He pushed her dark hair from her eyes—getting into her space came far too easily for him. “You should know by now that I get everything I aim for.”
“Everything?” she asked skeptically.
His lips curved up as if he read her meaning. “Everything.”
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t meant that to be flirtatious. She tilted her chin tellingly at the broken porcelain plates on the other side of the room to show what she meant. “I doubt that.”
Too late, she saw his grin broaden, and she realized that this talk was only encouraging him.
“That was me!” Midge squeaked up at them, jumping around in excitement. “My nephew beats everyone at archery. Show her, Robin! Show her what you can do!”
“Don’t bother the pretty lady,” Alan said. He’d finally slid the record back into its sleeve and smiled at Marian, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Marian suspected that Alan knew she didn’t approve of him.
Robin accepted the bow from his diminutive uncle and then another arrow. “You care to put your money where your mouth is, Maid Marian?”
His continued teasing made her want to stamp her foot. Instead she tossed her chin. “I don’t have any money.” At least not the amounts he threw around.
“No money? Then where will you put your mouth, Marian?” His eyes drew to her lips and he grinned. “Oh, I get it. You want to make the wager a kiss? Sure, I’ll go for that.” His eyes danced at the joke. “Just name the target.”
Howdarehe! Now that they were older, his games had a flirtatious edge to them. “Are you serious?” Marian crossed her arms. “I’d rather not be responsible for another mess.”
“I’ll take special care not to break anything. Believe me.” His gaze was steady on hers. “Your heart is safe with me.”
There he went with his double meanings again. The gossip columns had nothing on him, and with misgiving she realized that she liked the teasing too much. Before she could retreat to keep her better judgement intact, Alan ruined her plans. “Would you like me to return you safely to Scarlett?” he asked. His condescending tone set her teeth on edge.
“I’ll escort you,” Guy offered, his disapproving look pinned on his cousin. “She’ll never beyourMaid Marian, Robin.”
Marian agreed with him on a rational level, but on a more emotional level, she didn’t like hearing that, and it confused her.
Robin’s eyes crinkled up at the sides, his focus entirely on her like they were the only ones in the room. “Bok bok bok,” he said under his breath, just like he’d done when they were children. The challenge fired up her temper like it always had before. “Name the target, Marian,” he whispered.
She uncrossed her arms, not able to endure any more, and pointed to a spot furthest from them where the blue center of a plaster yellow flower decorated the molding of the wall. “There’s your target.” Her smile felt impish. “Not evenyouare that good!”
