Chapter twenty-eight: Never say goodbye
Meg was tired. She hadn't realized how hard saying goodbye was until you had to bid farewell to a place and people you felt so much a part of. All of the villagers had heard of her departure and had come to bid her farewell. She gave everyone a handful of money to help them through the difficult time ahead. She could feel Guy watching her from afar, but he didn't approach her. Her uncle's men stayed close beside her the entire time she bade everyone her farewells.
She'd forgone the banquet, retired to her room and after locking the door, proceeded to pack up her things alone. She left her traveling dress out for her to wear in the morning. She'd chosen a dull gray dress, which would suit her mood the following morning. Secretly, she hoped it would rain. However, upon opening her window, she saw that the sky was clear and the air didn't smell of rain.
She had just finished placing her shoes in their trunk and had reached for the white dress that she'd worn when she wanted Guy to kiss her. Meg smiled as she pressed it against her. "You looked beautiful in that dress." She turned to see Guy come in through the window. She smiled at him as he took a few steps towards her. "You looked like an angel, particularly in that color."
Meg smiled sadly, as she began to fold the dress. "I wore it because….I thought it might tempt you to kiss me."
He shook his head. "I don't need a dress to cause me to desire to kiss you." She looked down at the dress, refusing to look him in the eye. "Believe me, your dress is the last thing I notice about you when I think of kissing you." At her silence, he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I'm upsetting you."
Meg shook her head. "No. I…I am sad, but, it's not your fault."
She felt hands on her shoulders and she leaned back against Guy's chest with a sigh. "It is, partly."
She looked up at him. "You didn't tell me to love you Guy, I did so willingly. It's not your fault. I've just got to talk to my aunt and uncle, pray that they'll see reason."
Guy exhaled. "I shall, every day."
"As will I." she closed her eyes as he rocked her in his arms. "Guy….why do you and Robin hate each other so much?" He stilled, not expecting the question and truth to be told, she didn't even know what made her ask that question. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I asked that."
"But you deserve an answer." Guy exhaled deeply. "It concerns my parents and…I never told you about them either. The truth is…Hood and I grew up together. My father…went off to fight in the Holy land. Hood's father….Lord Malcolm….he fancied my mother and after my father was presumed dead, it didn't take him long to seduce her."
Meg reached up and placed her hands on his. "I'm sorry. But…you cannot hold him accountable for the sins of his father."
Guy exhaled. "If only that were true." His tone was dark, she didn't need to see his face, she knew the expression that would be on his face. "No, I started hating him when he was going to let me die for actions that he had caused."
"What happened?"
Guy hesitated and looked down at the woman he held in his arms. Meg wasn't demanding, he could feel that if he said he didn't want to talk about it, she'd accept it and wouldn't push it. Yet….he wanted to tell her. "We were having a feast to celebrate the return of those who'd returned from the Holy land and to honor those who had not. My mother had purchased a fire wheel and I was to have made the shot."
"And, judging upon Robin's reputation with a bow," she said softly. "he was probably wanting to make the shot himself."
He chuckled quietly. "Correct. I took his arrow from him and threw it in the water. He took mine and aimed at a lantern above the fire wheel. However, missed the lantern and hit the fire wheel, then backed away. The wheel fell, crushing a priest. When the mob grabbed me, he verbally lied and swore he didn't do it." Meg said something in, what he assumed was Celtic and he glanced at her. "What did you say?"
"I'd rather not say….but it wasn't nice."
He smiled slightly. "Because it was my arrow, they thought it was me." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. "I was 14, and I was almost hung for a crime that I didn't commit. Vaisey was the bailiff and he was carrying out the will of the crowd. My father….returned from the dead in time to save my life. He'd been named lord of the manor."
Meg hesitated a moment before saying. "You must have been happy to see your father."
"I was, but that happiness faded once we realize that he was a leper. He'd contracted the disease in the holy land and had come home to die in peace."
"He must have loved you all so very much." She said softly. "It must have been a difficult journey for him."
"It was. Sir Malcolm found out about my father's disease and brought the sheriff and the priest. They came in middle of the night and turned my father out of his own house." His fingers tightened around Meg's shoulders as he relived the nightmare. "I followed a procession of people as they took him to a grave. My mother cried as she declared herself a widow. I protested against the whole course of actions, but my father said to me, "You must act like a man, not a child. Do not shame me." Sir Malcolm did show my father a kindness by helping him out of the grave, as he was too weak to do so himself. I swore I'd never forgive him." He closed his eyes. "As we returned to the manor, Robin sneered about how he'd never enter a leper's house. Naturally, I tried to thrash him but was stopped by my mother."
"It must have been hard on her as well." She said quietly. "I can't imagine…being in her situation."
"She still loved my father." He said firmly. "I followed her one day to the leper's camp and found them together. She denied me my father and then sought him out in secret. I confronted her about it in the woods. She then announced to me that she was planning to marry Sir Malcolm. It hadn't been a week since my father's declared death and she was already planning to marry another man. She made me promise to remain silent. She had an attack in the woods and she was ill for a time. She was stuck in bed for a day. I went to the camp and found my father, I told him how my mother was being forced to marry Sir Malcolm, but he refused to fight for my mother. I argued with him and the final words I ever spoke to my father were to call him leper."
Meg spoke quietly. "You were angry, hurt and confused. That's a lot for a boy of fourteen to take in all at once. I'm sure….he knows you didn't mean it."
"He came back for her though. They'd only been talking upstairs for no less than five minutes with Sir Malcolm burst into the house." He couldn't keep the venom out of his voice. "I threatened him with a burning log, he was older and stronger, naturally, he pushed me into a table. I dropped the log and started a fire. I got my sister out while he went to alert my parents." Guy was silent for a long time before speaking. "They never came out." he didn't bother keeping the regret out of his voice. "I should have braved the flames."
"And if you died, who would have looked after your sister?" Meg asked him softly. "She'd have been alone."
"They never found any remains. My sister and I had nothing. We headed to France. Vaisey found me, after I'd give Isabella to Thornton and he took me under his wing. He made me into what I am today."
Meg turned towards him, giving him a sad smile. "If his intentions were to make you into a heartless, base and cruel man….he didn't complete his task. He left a chink in your armor." She ran her hand over his heart, causing it to beat faster. "He forgot…to teach you not to care, but you do care."
"And I hadn't cared about anything for a long time….until you." Fearing that he'd kiss her, he reached into his pocket to return her letter. "I thought…you were very kind and honest with him, even if he did not deserve it. Thank you….for being so with me."
Meg put the letter on the bed. "You are different than him Guy. You're a good man."
He let out a bitter exhale. "Me? A good man? With the blood of hundreds and even the blood of my own parents on my hands?"
"You've show respect for me and your parents, they could have come out if they wanted to. Nevertheless, either something happened up there that you'll never know or they chose to stay together in the flames. Honor their mistakes Guy, but do not blame yourself for their choices. I know that...letting go of the past can be hard, but, once it is let go of, the relief is a wonderful thing. I will not ask you to forget and forgive, no one can do that until they're ready."
Guy glanced down at her hand, before bringing it up and looking at the ring. "I must have this back."
"Must I give it back?" Meg asked him with tears in her eyes. She inhaled deeply, as if fighting to keep from sounding as if she was begging him. "May I keep it?"
She didn't want to give it up and he couldn't refuse her. "All right." He touched her face, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "I cannot refuse you anything." She smiled as she leaned her face into his touch. "May I," Guy's voice died as his hand rested on her shoulder. "touch you?"
"Yes. Please." And he did. Meg allowed him to brush her hair back to expose her neck to his mouth. Meg closed her eyes as she ran her hands down his shoulders. "You may touch and kiss all you like Guy….but do not take."
He couldn't speak, as he tasted her skin under his lips. He could feel her breath against his neck before he felt her place her lips timidly against his neck. "Being with you is wonderful Megan," she trembled slightly. "you make me feel….human again."
Meg looked up at him, her green eyes shining with soft, curious intrigue. "Do I?"
Guy nodded as leaned forward and claimed her mouth as his again. Her grip around his shoulders tightened and he could feel her throw caution to the wind. He could if he wanted to, he could feel it, and she wouldn't resist him. He could take Meg, right here, right now, lay claim to her fragile, trembling body that was so close to his. Odd, how someone so small, delicate and pure could love someone dark like him with such a passion as hers.
However, someone trying the door, caused them to jump and pull apart. Fortunately, she'd locked the door from the inside. "Meg?" It was Marian and they exhaled in relief. "Are you well?" Meg didn't answer right away and Guy forced himself not to pull her close to him. "You did not attend dinner."
Meg exhaled deeply as she struggled to put some strength in her voice. "I am fine. I'm not hungry though."
"Can we not talk?" Marian asked. "I'd prefer not to talk to you through the door."
Megan began shaking her head. "Go on." He whispered. "If you don't….I will take you on that bed, and I won't do that to you."
Meg nodded. "Just a moment Marian." She kissed his cheek. "Wait here. Marian will give us some privacy. I don't want my guards getting suspicious about my delay in opening the door."
He nodded and moved out of sight as Meg went and unlocked the door allowing Marian in the room. Marian's eyes widened, but she remained silent as Meg locked the door behind her. Marian didn't say anything, she simply went into the other room.
Meg inhaled deeply and walked slowly back up to him. "One last kiss and then…we say-
Guy kissed her, silencing her from saying the word that neither of them wanted to say. As Meg ran her hands through his hair, he lifted her up from the ground. He wrapped his arms tightly around her hips, holding her close to him as they just silently drank each other in. several long moments passed before Meg who broke the kiss. He lowered her to the ground, brushing her head with his nose, inhaling that citrus scent of hers.
She opened her mouth to stay something, but he placed a finger on her lips, silently asking her not to break the spell. She nodded in understanding and stepped away. Though it was the hardest thing he ever had to do, he turned, walked towards the window and began making his descent. Each step pulled him and Meg further apart. He'd wanted to tell her that he loved her, but why allow the most coveted of words to be last words she'd ever hear because he knew, they'd never see each other again. Her uncle would prove himself a fool if he were allow Meg to get involved with, much less marry, a man such as him.
