A/N: A nice long chapter as a present! Enjoy! And please, to those of you who are silent readers, I appreciate the views but it would be nice to see an occasional REview, if you don't mind ;). They really make my day and I'd just love to know what you think!

Chapter Twenty-Five—Rose

Gossip, Rose found, spread more quickly than a fire in dry summer straw. It was not a day later that word of her confrontation with Sir Guy had made its rounds of the kitchen. Cook muttered "Fool" under breath, and Lila and some of the others made snide remarks.

Aileen did not say much, but her grateful eyes managed to soften Rose's feelings of embarrassment and chagrin.

Yet once more she was conflicted. Was it always right to behave the lady, decorous and reserved? Had she been wrong to be resourceful, bold, stubborn, reckless, and deceptive?

Perhaps there is more than one way to be a lady. There have been plenty of saints who have acted boldly, she reminded herself. Still, it was difficult to put her misgivings over her own behavior to rest, and harder still to keep herself from trembling when she remembered him.

Him. Sir Guy. He was-dangerous. That was the only word for him-with his ice-blue eyes, slicing through all her defenses...his voice, rich and deep and curiously tempting...his iron grip on her shoulder, his alarming closeness in that moment.

She had taken a risky gamble, and she wasn't sure if she had the wits to play the game.

Come now, Rose-now's not the time to dumb down your own intelligence. You know that you're clever enough, as clever as any man. You always have been.

But cleverness was not enough to counteract powerlessness. And she was powerless, especially when compared with the forbidding figure in black, who had power spelled out in every line of his form.

With a sigh, she finished weeding a row of onions, disregarded Lila's whisperings behind her hand to another maid, and went to find Aileen, who was sweeping out the servants' quarters.

"You owe me something," Rose announced, leaning against the post of the doorway.

Aileen started badly. "What?" She had gone pale.

"It's nothing serious," Rose murmured, wondering what was wrong. "I only-I mean, you told me that you had a story to tell me. About some brave lady." She smiled half-heartedly. "I think I should like to hear it, now."

"Oh." Aileen's shoulders relaxed. "Of course. It's an interesting enough tale." She swept some grass out. "She was very, very beautiful, but she was very kind to us. She used to visit the kitchen sometimes, and talk to us. She reminds me of you, because she was so strong."

Rose flushed. "I'm not strong."

Aileen looked at her in surprise. "Of course you are! She, too, was not afraid of putting herself forward, of fighting when she had to...just like you. I'd give a great deal to be like that."

Rose picked up a broom. "What was her name?"

"Lady Marian, of Knighton Hall."

Rose wrinkled her brow. "Wait-that sounds familiar. Wasn't her father-"

"Sheriff, yes," Aileen nodded. "But you'll understand that I must keep my voice down. Marian and her father are both seen as traitors to the present Sheriff. They used to be rather in high esteem, until...well, Sir Guy was engaged to Lady Marian, but she left him at the altar. After that..." Aileen paused, but Rose's heart was pumping. She had not thought that Guy would figure in this story. "Go on?"

"After that," Aileen continued, a little reluctantly, "they said he burned Knighton Hall. Marian and Sir Edward-that was her father's name-were brought to the castle. He was put in the dungeon, but she was just-kept. That was when I got to know her better. Even though she couldn't leave, she never seemed caged. Not like-" again, she paused. Rose thought she'd been about to say, "like me."

"Then what?" Rose pressed.

"Well, her father died. Was killed somehow, I never heard the details. And then it was found out that-that she had been working for Robin Hood the whole time. That they were in love!"

Rose felt a thrill of excitement go through her. This Lady Marian-who, it seemed, had been both bold and dignified, who had braved the wrath of authority to do what was right...she had been working with the mysterious outlaw!

"Where is she now?" she asked breathlessly. It was too much-no, surely, this brave Marian had not met an unfortunate end.

"She's with him now," Aileen explained. "They are married, and live in Sherwood. Or so everyone says."

A perfect ending, Rose thought happily. She had a carefully guarded appreciation for romance, which she was loath to reveal. But this circumstance was too perfect not to enjoy. It seemed as though nothing-she stopped short. It couldn't have been perfectly happy for one person. "But did Sir Guy-" She didn't know what the question she was asking even was, or what answer she wanted for it.

"Sir Guy loved her," Aileen whispered. "And he still does. That's why..." A haunted expression had entered into her soft eyes, and Rose suddenly wondered if Aileen admired Lady Marian as much as Rose was swiftly beginning to.

"But he seems as though he could never-" the words left Rose's lips limply. She did not know what he seemed like...she did not really know him. She knew, though, that there was more than one side to him. She tried again, and it still didn't come out right. "I don't know how he could feel. Or feel regret."

"Oh, he could," Aileen answered sadly. "His eyes-if you've ever looked into them-looked and seen what he's seeing, you'd know."

"What are they like?" Rose asked, half in wonder, half in fear. She had seen his eyes, but they had only been hard.

"Like a battlefield after the battle is over," Aileen said softly. "When all the brutal glory and cruel passion is fled, and all that is left is brokenness and suffering. And yet the same misery on the battlefield today will be tomorrow's fuel for fighting. That's why he is so sad, Rose. Tomorrow he will be just as cruel, and tomorrow night he will feel just as guilty over it."

Rose wrapped her arms about her knees, feeling strangely cold. "Then why?"

"Because he doesn't know what else to do." Aileen's voice grew harsher. "I think she used him. I did love her-I did, she was kind to us, but she used him. He shouldn't have been looking for love from her. He should have..." her words broke off short, as they always did when she was about to reveal too much. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, calm. "That's the story, Rose. I think you should get back to work now." She jerked her head towards the kitchen. "That reminds me-Cook needs someone to go to market."

"To market?" Rose looked confused. "But we went yesterday-"

"No, she wants you to go today. Here, a few coins. She gave them to me for you."

Rose nodded, still uncertain. "I'll go. Aileen, I'm sorry if I upset you. I didn't know that the story had to do with-"

"Sir Guy?" Aileen finished ruefully. "It's alright, Rose." She rested her hand against her stomach. "Everything does."

Rose didn't have an answer for that. She slipped the coins into the pouch at her belt. "I'll be going, then."

"Rose-" she felt Aileen's hand clutch at her shoulder. When she turned to look at her, she saw that same strange pallor had come over the other girl's face again. "Aileen, is something wrong?"

"No, nothing." Aileen's smile was forced. "You're a good friend, Rose, that's all."

The walk to the village was a brief one, but Rose went as slowly as she dared, trying to enjoy her short moments of freedom. Walking to the marketplace reminded her of similar trips with her mother, when she could easily hide from burly strangers in the rough folds of her mother's skirts, and when the stalls overflowing with crisp-skinned onions, slabs of dried cod, and loaves of crusty bread were almost too high for her to reach.

Those days are gone. Now you're-somewhere else, tangled up in a mess of a world.

She pushed impatiently through the crowds that hung around the vendors, mindful of Cook's impending wrath if anything but the finest produce were brought back.

Someone jostled her elbow painfully and she started. "Ow!"

"So sorry, miss," chuckled a familiar, roguishly refined voice in her ear.

Rose gasped a sharp intake of breath. "Robin Hood!"

"Not so loudly, lass." His hand took hers firmly but gently and tugged her to the shelter of a weaver's stall, where long swaths of linen hung to form a makeshift blind.

There, her companion tugged back his hood and she found herself smiling when, once more, she met the handsome young face and keen eyes of the outlaw leader.

"I saved your men the other day," she whispered tersely. Much as she had come to admire this man, there was no time to waste.

"I know. Clever of you. But weren't you afraid?"

She swallowed, remembering Sir Guy. "A little. Should I not have been?"

"If you'd said you weren't, I'd know you were lying," he grinned. "Fear's natural. But you were very, very brave. That's a quality I value."

"I need to ask you a favor."

"And I you."

"What can you want from me?"

His eyebrows twitched wryly. "Ladies first."

"Alright." Rose took a deep breath. "I have a friend, Aileen. She's a kitchen maid. She's-she's expecting.' She blushed, discussing such a thing with man. "The father-it's Sir Guy. Of Gisborne. Do you know him?"

"Aye." She glanced up, startled at the sharpness in his voice. His green eyes looked almost grey, and they were harder now.

"You know, him, then. Anyway, he's been-very unkind to her. He won't help her at all. And the baby-the baby will need food and a home. Aileen doesn't have any family. She doesn't know what to do. Can you help her?"

Robin didn't hesitate. He nodded quickly. "Your friend and her baby will be moved to safety. It's a promise."

Rose felt as though a great stone's weight had been removed from her shoulders. She blew out her breath, relieved. "Thank you, Robin Hood."

"Now, not to be indelicate, but as for my favor...first of all, what's your name, lass? Surely we're on good enough terms for that, now."

"It's Rose. Rose Acre."

"Rose." His eyes twinkled at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You wanted a favor?"

"Down to business, I see. Right then-my men told me of your resourcefulness and courage in facing up to Gisborne and armed guards. Our cause needs a person with those skills...on the inside."

Rose felt a tremor of excitement and danger-a new kind of danger. "You want me to spy for you?"

"Yes."

Rose knotted up handfuls of her skirt in her fists to still the shaking in her hands. "Before-and if-I agree, I need to know what your cause exactlyis. I've heard rumors, hearsay, and old wives' tales. That's not enough. What is Robin Hood fighting for?"

The face before her grew grave instantly, every line of boyish mischief replaced with a man's determination. "For England," he said quietly. "For freedom and justice and right. When the King returns, the Sheriff and men like him would kill him, setting up his conniving brother on the throne. They would forever lock this country into a dungeon of greed and lies and brutality. They would starve these people, terrorize them, use them, kill them. My men and I are the only ones who will stand up and fight for a free England. For a good England. For the England we once knew."

She found herself moved by his words, but her own voice sounded quite detached as she said, "So you're all brave, then?"

"Brave enough." He shrugged. "And so are you. That's why we need your help. The Sheriff is planning something, and I need someone to find out more about it. From his angle. I'm already working my own."

"Don't you have anyone else, better than a silly serving maid?" Rose inquired. It was hard to think of herself as a brave spy, a helper to the most famous outlaw in England.

"We used to."

"Lady Marian," she interrupted. "I've heard."

"My lovely wife." His lips quirked up in a smile. "Yes. But Lady Marian's days of spying are over." Once more his face grew serious. "Rose, this is dangerous. Marian nearly died for what she did. My men have urged me to ask you, but I myself must be honest-this work is not something you must do. It is something you choose to do."

"What exactly would this work be?"

"It is nigh impossible to get close to the Sheriff. Marian—" the words seemed suddenly difficult for him to say. "Marian got close to Sir Guy."

And it nearly killed her, Rose thought but did not say. She felt a sudden chill, wondering what the details had been.

Robin went on. "I will not ask you to do the same. We both know the only way that that could be accomplished, and it is not something I would ask of any woman. But if you can befriend one of his guards—one of more couth ones, that is—if you can serve at state dinners and meetings, find a way to be in the parts of the castle where he and the Sheriff discuss their plans…all of this would be immensely helpful. Your instructions, for now, are simple. Hear everything you can, and report to me."

"How—"

Robin sighed and said, cutting her off, "How much will you be paid? I'm sorry, but I can offer no remuneration for your services. The reward of righteousness will have to be enough."

Rose flushed hotly at the thought. "No! I will not accept pay. I was asking how I might get the information to you."

He chuckled, and his eyes were approving. "Forgive me, milady. It was wrong of me to doubt. And do not fear that I will find a way to keep in contact with you—I walk through walls, as I'm sure you've heard." There was a mischievous glimmer in his green eyes.

"I don't believe such silly things," she returned, and then wondered if her tone had been too saucy. Very probably.

"If you accept, I will do my best to protect you. My men and I will keep a close eye on the castle, and warn you if the Sheriff suspects you. I cannot promise perfect safety, but I think you know that."

"I do." She glanced back at the busy marketplace—it was markedly less boisterous now, and she realized with a start that she and Robin had been talking far too long. "I'm afraid I must go. I will be missed."

He smiled. "And I'm a wanted man." Once more he drew his hood over his face. "If you need time to think, I understand."

She paused for a moment—but a moment only. In her mind, she saw again the little round-faced child she had been, adoring her mother and thinking that her father would always be her hero, playing with her brothers and having no more hardships than a skinned knee, no more wants than sunshine and summer. She saw again the girl who had grown to realize that her father was no hero, but only a weak-willed man with no inclination to make a desirable dowry for his eldest daughter, who had beauty and brains but no fortune to recommend her. She saw her mother, growing older and thinner and more careworn, she saw her own futile attempts to take over the duties of the house. She saw again the pact her father had signed, relegating her to indefinite servitude. She saw Nottingham Castle, the thick-walled prison with evil at its heart.

As long she lived, probably, her wages would pay her father's debts. She had nothing to live for, not really. To have something real to live for was worth dying for, if need be.

She turned back to Robin, the outlaw with the green eyes which held a country's cause.

"I don't need time to think." Though her heart was pounding, her voice was steady. "I'll do it."

She saw him smile and nod, felt his slim strong bowman's hand clasp hers, and then he was gone.

To her own annoyance, Rose was shaking as she gathered some hastily chosen produce—there was no avoiding Cook's wrath anyway, since she was late—into her basket and made her way swiftly back to the keep.

Why am I nervous?

You are rather an idiot—joining an outlaw's band? How do you know you can trust him?

I just can. And he trusts me, on short notice, so it's equally risky.

That's a paltry excuse.

She ignored her nagging conscience as she let herself in the back door of the kitchen. She was hoping to sneak in unnoticed, but she was met by four armed guards, pawing through the pots and pans while Cook shouted.

Rose's breath caught in her throat as the basket fell from her hands. How could they have found me out—I—

"Rose! There you are!" she heard Lila's voice beside her. "Where have you been?"

"At market."

"Liar," Lila elbowed her. "We went to market yesterday. Doesn't matter. Have you heard the news?"

"What news?" Rose asked, glancing around. The other maids were gathered, but she didn't see Aileen.

"Aileen's gone and run off," Lila hissed. "And now two bags of gold are missing from the Sheriff's store. Who d'you suppose gone and taken 'em?"

The kitchen was as hot as usual, but Rose felt as though a cold wind had slipped in through the open door. "But they have no proof!" she cried. Her voice sounded shrill to her own ears. "No way of knowing!"

"Of course not," Lila agreed, shrugging lazily. Her eyes glinted. "But they came askin' and I told 'em what I knew. She's got a baby coming and the father won't take care of it. It may not be her, but I think it's likely. So do the guards."

"You are such a snake!" It took all of Rose's self-control not to slap the girl across the face. "You'd sell her out on account of jealousy!"

Lila did not seem touched by the insult. "Say what you like. I warned you about Aileen, Rose. And now I'm being proven right. I'd forget that you were ever friends with her. Don't want to be thought guilty by association, do you?"

The search ran on, but it was a faraway blur to Rose's eyes. Thoughts, each one more distressing than the next, raced through her mind.

It can't be true…it can't be…not Aileen…surely she couldn't have—surely there's some mistake. It can't be true!

If it was, even Robin couldn't help Aileen now.