Page 11 of Rogue of the Greenwood
The horses balked and shied, but the man’s sudden arrival had put an end to their headlong race. They pulled up to an obedient halt. Marianne, of course, was thrown forward. She slid from her seat and tumbled into a heap on the floor. Fumbling to right herself, her hands came upon her bow and several arrows that had fallen beside her. On instinct, she grasped her bow up with one hand and snagged an arrow with the other.
Wild thoughts of highwaymen and footpads ran through her mind; she’d heard these sorts had been active in Sherwood recently. What had she been thinking to go off on her own this way? She must be a full mile from Mr. Gisborn by now, or perhaps even more. Well, if this man was intent on doing harm, she’d just have to defend herself.
In one fluid movement, she hiked up her skirts,pulled herself to her feet, and nocked an arrow into place. The bow felt friendly in her fist as she drew the string taut. Wedging her knee against the fine leather dashboard, she found a solid stance even as the curricle still rocked from its ordeal.
She held her bow deadly still, arrow trained on her accoster. If he made one threatening move toward her, he would be a dead man. She would not hesitate to…
And then recognition dawned. For both of them, it seemed. He spoke her name aloud even as she breathed his in stunned disbelief.
“Robert Locksley? But you’redead!”
Chapter 4
Robert couldn’t help but stare at her. She was like a warrior goddess, tall and stately as she stood there atop the rocking curricle. Her hand was steady despite the ordeal she’d just been through and the amazement that shone on her face. Her wide, silver-blue eyes were wild with excitement and long tendrils of flame-red hair escaped from her crooked bonnet to toss in the breeze. She’d been dreadfully shaken, yet her stance didn’t waver and there was little fear in her expression. Indeed, her face and her form were both perfectly suited for her Athenian role.
Gone was the petulant, freckled Marianne Maidland that he remembered, a boisterous imp who had teased and dogged him in youth. In her place was a formidable beauty. Robert cleared his throat and gave her his most winning smile.
“Have no fear, Miss Maidland. I’ve saved you!”
He was prepared for a thank you. He was ready to catch her should she throw herself down into his arms out of gratitude. When neither of those happened, he at least expected her to lower her weapon.
But she did not.
“I most certainly do not need any saving!”
“Er, but the carriage… it was running away with you,” he reminded, willing to allow that the trauma of the event had jostled her brain.
“The carriage was perfectly under my control,” she snipped.
“That’s not quite how it looked to me, Miss.”
“What do you know about it? Aren’t you dead?”
“Er… as you can see, no.”
“Why not?”
He could only shrug at such an odd question. “Because no one has killed me yet, I suppose. Are you planning to remedy that now, or may I be so bold as to beg you to put down your infernal bow?”
It was not particularly endearing that she paused for several moments to consider his question before finally replying. “Oh, very well. I won’t kill you. Not just now, at least.”
“You’re too kind.”
“But I do wish you hadn’t stopped the horses,” she said, clearly not ready to embrace him as a long-lost friend. “They were doing exactly as I directed them.”
“You directed them to run wild and nearly toss you head over heels?”
“That’s not at all what they were doing.”
“It is entirely what they were doing—they were completely out of control.”
“They were fine.”
“Then why were you screeching to high heaven?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Indeed you were! That’s what brought me here. I was strolling peacefully through the forest on my way to… well, I heard your desperate screams and came running.”
