Page 86 of Robin and Marian
She clutched her fingers tightly together, trying to stop herself from fighting back. None of this explained what he was doing to Robin to make him obey him so willingly. “Well, you’ve stopped him,” she said. “Now you can let him go.”
“He’ll only turn on me again.”
“You can’t keep him forever.”
“Yes, I can.”
She was at her wit’s end and didn’t know how to be subtle anymore. “How?”
“He loves his sister very much… too much. I’d say it’s unnatural, wouldn’t you?” Seeing her hands were balled into fists, he reached for them and plied his shaking fingers through hers to unweave them so that he could take possession of them himself.
“Why must there be this unpleasantness between us?” he muttered, slipping his free hand low around her waist. “You and I are of the same cloth. Our parents knew it. You belong to me.”
This was insane; all the while he said these outrageous things, he pulled her in closer like a snake coiling around her. “Work with me.” His breath was hot on her skin. “Talk to your aunt. She listens to you.” His rough fingers stole to the nape of her neck, tangling through her hair like the thorns on a rose. He looked meaningfully down at her lips, “Tell her that you’ve found out the truth about Robin.”
Marian laid a staying hand on his chest to keep him back, her heart racing unnaturally. “And what is that? What do you have against him?”
She felt the low rumble of laughter under her fingers. “You are so adorable, you know that? Why do you waste your time with him?Ican give you everything.” It was then that his mouth went down on hers as he tried to prove how much they werenotfriends.
Chapter 23
Robin holed up in the library in the north wing—the farthest he could be from Guy, so he wouldn’t be tempted to kill him. Unlike last time, Guy had arranged for Robin’s quarters to be closest to his, in a room that Robin suspected had once belonged to Marian with its flowered wallpaper and canopied bed. It made him feel like a damsel in distress locked away in a tower, and he refused to be trapped in it.
His cousin might own him now, but he couldn’t stop him from pacing the halls, passing a concerned Mrs. Koch, and stealing balls from the indoor racquetball court. He should be grateful, he supposed, that of all the places to be stuck on house arrest, this was possibly the most spacious. So why had he ended up in a chair next to a desk with crumpled up papers? He might as well be stuck in a six-by-eight-foot cell for all that he moved, though the view of the cheerful gardens was an upgrade from his last prison.
The sun slanted harshly through the windows and he squinted against it while he threw the racquetball against the wall, staring at the Spade tattoo on his forearm—the trickster. It hadn’t been his choice, but he’d been branded. He couldn’t help wonder how much of this he’d brought on himself. His mind went to Marian. It had only been a few hours, but time felt longer without her. He was caught between wanting her and hoping she’d stay away. He’d made the right choice, for sure. This was no life for her, and yet how could he stay noble when he missed her so much?
A scratching at the window stopped his dark thoughts, and he caught up the ball one-handed, listening. It happened again and he stood, peering out the long picture window into the bright, colorful gardens outside. He jumped back when he caught Little John and Tuck staring back at him amongst the daffodils. Despite himself, Robin broke into his first real smile since landing in this place.
“What are you doing here?” He inched open the window as much as it would go and Little John and Tuck pushed forward.
Little John’s leather jacket squeaked through the window. He was almost too big to fit, but he made it eventually, easing his legs through one at a time until he sat on the other side of the glass pane, breathing heavily as he watched Tuck scramble into the library with the agility of a muskrat. Rolling his eyes, his attention swerved to Robin. “You helped me out with the Mayfair, now I want to help you.”
Robin didn’t know what to say. What could his friends possibly do to get him out of this? He was touched all the same. “I… don’t think…” but then he rethought that. “Well, if you could get into that safe that Tuck can’t open then you’d solve all our problems.”
“Well, that’s gratitude for you!” Tuck’s lips firmed into a line. “I brought you good news and all you can do is whine about what you can’t have. You haven’t seen Guy’s social media posts yet—he all but admits what he’s done.”
So Tuck had taken over his online presence? That only made Robin feel slightly better. The world would have their fun at Guy’s expense, but it was easily excused as the work of a hacker. “You idiot.”
“Although I hate to tell you that I looked into Guy’s foundation, and he’s been donating like crazy to his charity. And wouldn’t you know it? It’s actually going to the veterans this time—straight to their bank accounts!” Good for the veterans, not for Nottingham—except Tuck wasn’t finished, “He’s pouring everything he’s got into them.”
That got Robin’s attention. “What do you meaneverything?”
“Everything.I mean, there are a few foreign banks I can’t get into, but…”
He was bankrupting Guy through his own charity? “Tuck!”
“Who’s that?” Little John asked.
Robin pointed at him. “I mean, Uncle Franco. Go ahead, Pastor, you were saying?”
“Yes, indeed, I’ve sinned,” Tuck said, and pressed on, his train of thought not even derailed by his blown cover. “But we’ve got those officials in Guy’s pocket scared, ever since your little speech in the pavilion. I’ve blocked their flights—they’re on the terror watch list now—that took some doing.” Little John’s eyes widened at him and Tuck shrugged. “Ihaveinternet now!”
“I guess I’m wasting my time here, then,” John huffed. “Tuck’sgot it all figured out.”
Robin wished that was true. “Not quite. Guy set up a fall guy for everything that he’s ever done. We crack open these cases and someone else goes down. Scarlett goes down,” he admitted.
Predictably, Little John took exception to that. “So that’s what this is about. I’ll kill him.”
