Page 70 of Rogue of the Greenwood
Robert was a hero! No wonder he was so willing to give up the comfort of his home and hide in the forest for the sake of those who needed him. It had not been some mere fluke that he survived that battle—he had come through because he had the skills and the fortitude necessary to do so. And to think, she had supposed he needed her help!
Well, aside from feeling somewhat abashed, she was quite impressed. What sort of man was this who gave up so much for the sake of others and asked for no praise? He’d come back to Nottingham rather than join a party in Paris where the women wore invisible clothing and celebrated his commendation! How had she ever questioned his passion?
She’d been a silly girl in the past, faulting Robin for not being violent or brash. She’d underestimated him today, rushing out in ridiculous clothing and taunting the sheriff in a ludicrous attempt at providing aid while he was, in fact, carrying out acarefully planned mission. Did she really know the man at all? She had thought this Robin Hood mantle was being forced onto him. In reality, he’d been wearing it all along.
The man had distinguished himself in war, yet she’d only known him to show peace and compassion. She’d thought that mean he was not capable. In fact, it was the exact opposite! Why had she not recognized the best parts of him? Control, quick-thinking, and self-sacrifice made a hero. Robert excelled at those! He had kindness, determination, intelligence, and humor, too.
She needed to develop a few more of those in herself. Why, she’d spoken so sharply to him. It was no wonder he’d been eager to part ways with her.
Well, she’d not treat him so badly again. She would go to that dinner tonight and do just as they had planned. She would be charming and engaging; Mr. Gisborn would have no reason to think of anything but enjoying his guests. With luck, Robert would find the evidence and information he needed to convict his faithless steward for a whole list of crimes.
Very likely, Uncle Prinley would be implicated, too. That would end his hold over Nottingham and Mr. Reeve could no longer terrorize anyone who tried to stand up to them. Meg would be free to marry Mr. Muchleigh and Greenwood Manor would be under its proper master again. For all that Robert had given up—his home, his celebration in Paris, his good name and his comfort—the least she could do would be to pretend to enjoy Gisborn’s company for a few hours.
Drat it all, though! She heard the man’s voice!
What was Mr. Gisborn doing in this house? It made no sense, but she heard him quite clearly. At theother end of the servants’ access way, he was talking to someone. Uncle Prinley? No, she heard another man’s voice, but it was not his. Who then?
The voices were very clearly coming nearer. She thought to dive forward and shut the door on her little room, but the men would surely notice that. Tucking herself deeper into the corner beside the cupboard, she shoved Emma’s letter into her pocket and held her breath. Why on earth would Mr. Gisborn be conducting a conversation in a servant’s area? Obviously this was not a conversation he wanted overheard.
She, of course, was overly eager to hear it. Pulling her cloak tightly around her so it did not flow out and give her away, she waited. The men were speaking in hushed tones very nearby. If they stepped into this room, she would be discovered. However, if they merely walked by and only glanced in, she was at an angle to be hidden from their view.
She hoped for that result. Listening carefully, she could finally identify the second voice. It belonged to Mr. Dent, the family lawyer. He did not visit often, but enough that she knew his voice.
“Is it safe to talk here?” Mr. Dent asked. “I can’t have St. John hearing.”
“Hush!” Mr. Gisborn replied. “He’s busy in his office reading over that contract you gave him.”
“I hope he doesn’t read it too carefully.”
“Has he ever?”
The men laughed unpleasantly. So Mr. Gisborn had used Mr. Dent with other matters involving Uncle Prinley, had he? He must be the one who drafted the mortgage that burdened Greenwood Manor! This was, indeed, a conversation Marianne wanted to hear. Sheheld her breath and prayed to go undetected.
But then the men’s tone changed. Their voices dropped lower. Marianne sensed them peering into the room and pressed more tightly into the corner, hoping it would be enough. It must have been; no one discovered her. The men took several steps away, a bit farther up the hallway. She worried they would leave to discuss their secrets elsewhere, but they stopped just within earshot.
“So you have everything at the ready?” Mr. Gisborn asked quietly.
“Indeed,” Mr. Dent assured him. “I thought it might be ruined when St. John suggested you make the payment tonight rather than send me to deliver it this afternoon.”
Mr. Gisborn merely chuckled. “The old fool, he was easily convinced when I reminded him of the dangers he would face, traveling with all of that money.”
“You were convincing,” Mr. Dent said. “Even I became a bit nervous, the thought of all that could happen to a man carrying such funds through the forest.”
They laughed together, then Mr. Gisborn spoke. “You ought to be nervous. You will most certainly be robbed, of course.”
More laughter. Marianned strained to hear clearly, to understood what they meant. Mr. Dent expected to be robbed?
“I will be ready,” the lawyer said, then asked. “Are you certain he won’t suspect anything?”
“How could he? Even the good people of Nottingham are helping our cause. You’ve heard the rumors they are spreading. Why, Sherwood is lousywith scoundrels, hoodlums, and rogues… Robin Hood, even! Reeve has men out even now, hunting for him. It’s delightful. When you claim to have been robbed of the mortgage payment I’m supposed to send, St. John will think nothing of it. He won’t ask me to come up with another payment… not for a month or two, at least.”
“And by then it will be too late for him,” Mr. Dent said with a sly rumble. “The fat sot has no idea his end in so near.”
“Hush! Everything is going as planned; don’t ruin it with too much chatter.”
“But I want to know… what assurances do I have? You’ve protected yourself in all this, but I want to know I am secure.”
“Of course you are secure! You hold the papers, don’t you? That’s your security. Now just keep quiet about everything and be at the meeting as planned this afternoon.”
