Page 46 of Rogue of the Greenwood
“Nothing except disown you and ruin Mr. Muchleigh’s family. How are you to live once you are married? He cannot expect to come back here and carry on with the mill. Surely if Uncle Prinley is as cruel as you say, he will not allow that to happen.”
Meg was instantly downcast again. “No, I suppose not. But… George is resourceful. He will find work in the north. Perhaps we will settle in York, or some other town. As long as we are together, we will be happy.”
“I hope you will be prepared to take in Mr. Muchleigh’s elderly parents, once you are settled in the north. I have a feeling they will be out on the street when Mr. Reeve finds out he has lost his intended bride. Unless he can find a reason to toss them in gaol, of course.”
“If all you are going to do is make me more terrified, then why did you come here?” Meg sniffled, furrowing her brow and wringing her hands. “Howdidyou come here, by the way? We all believed Mr. Locksley was dead. How did you know to find me here at his lodge?”
“I didn’t. I followed the wagon until I lost yourtrail, then I ended up lost in the forest. Mr. Locksley was kind enough to locate me before the sheriff’s men did, and now here I am.”
“What a complicated tangle we are in, aren’t we?” Meg said in glorious understatement.
“And I suppose I need to think of a way out of it for us…”
Meg shook her head. “No, I am already settled; I will be leaving with George. We just need to think of a way out of this foryou.”
It was more than a bit frustrating that Meg was so ungrateful for Marianne’s effort. Did she really think that she and Mr. Muchleigh could leave Sherwood undetected? The roads would, no doubt, be blocked and every traveler searched. It was just a matter of time before men like the ones they had encountered near the river found this hiding place, then there would be no way for Meg to elope with anyone. It was hard to imagine a happy ending here.
Marianne chewed on her thoughts, leaving Meg to stew quietly while she got up to pace the dusty room. Floor boards creaked as she moved from one side of the chamber to the other. Her movement wasn’t accomplishing anything, but at least it felt as if she was doing something rather than sitting idly waiting for whatever bleak fate might come their way.
The chamber was large and the ornately carved bed indicated it had perhaps been used by the master of the estate. The cobwebs and sound of vermin scuttling in the corners indicated that the master had not been here in quite some time. Marianne paused in her pacing to lean against a tall chest of drawers. She found one of the drawers was not closed properly and the corner of it snagged at her gown.
Grumbling, she worked at the snag, pulling the drawer open a bit to be able to loose the fabric. It was a pointless action, of course. One more snag in this ruined garment hardly counted for anything. Still, she felt a slight satisfaction when her skirt was free and she could push the drawer back into place to avoid any further snags.
The drawer didn’t budge, though. There was a reason it had been slightly open. Something inside the chest was caught on it, preventing it from sliding back in properly.
Curious, she pulled the drawer open far enough to peer inside. It was empty, as expected, but she could feel the pull of something caught on it from behind. Perhaps at some point it had been overly full and something had become wedged? She tugged the drawer farther, eventually sliding it all the way out.
There, in the dark recess of the chest, she saw a garment. It seemed quite substantial, surely it was hard to imagine that the drawer had shut at all with such a wadding of fabric. Glad for a distraction, she pulled it out. The puff of dust that accompanied it caused her to choke.
“What are you doing?” Meg asked.
“Something was caught behind this drawer,” she replied. “It should slide back in again once this is out of the way.”
Depositing the crumpled garment atop the chest, she hefted the drawer back into place. As expected, it slid fully shut quite easily. But what was this old, forgotten article of clothing?
It was none of her business, of course. She should simply put it back in the drawer and forget about it. Grabbing it up, that’s what she intended to do.
But then it unrolled and revealed itself not to be a single garment, but in fact a whole packet of clothes. Pieces fell out onto the floor. The first thing she retrieved from the floor was a quaint triangular shaped cap. It was a hearty felt material that had folded with the clothing, but when worn would stick out like a beak. One lone feather poked from it, broken and worn.
The next items retrieved were leather straps—belts, perhaps. One in particular had an extra buckle on the back of it. It made her instantly think of the strap she used to carry her quiver. How odd to find such a thing here!
The rest of the bundle—she was far too intrigued now to simply pop it into that drawer—was quickly unfurled. The bulk of the bundle turned out to be a shirt. It was not like the fine linen shirts gentlemen usually wore, but more of a tunic than a shirt; square and wide, with distinctive lacing at the neckline. Worn leather gloves also accompanied the tunic. As she studied these items, two final articles tumbled out of her grasp. Marianne was quite taken aback when she collected them.
“What is that?” Meg asked, coming up to see what had captured her cousin’s attention.
“I believe it is a set of hosen!”
She held them up and they unfurled, hanging long and limp between the young ladies. Meg gasped, and then giggled.
“Oh my! They look like… legs!”
Marianne felt her face grow warm. “They are woolen hosen, for a gentleman.”
“You mean, the sort of old trousers we see in very old paintings?”
“Yes, very much like that.”
“This chest must be ancient!” Meg said, peering into it as if she expected to find additional relics.
