Robin groans, muttering a low it's too early for this, as he hears his father nearing the dining room, humming a soft tune he can't quite place. His eyes roll as he picks the newspaper back up and takes a renewed interest in it despite that he's already read through it-and he finds momentary solace in the fact that his father enters the room alone.
"No Zelena?"
"No," his father says, in a nearly sing-song voice. "She's prettying herself up. We're going for a ride this morning. It snowed a bit last night, and Zelena wants to see it on the trees before it inevitably melts away."
"Yes," Robin murmurs, as he focuses on a tobacco advertisement that he has no interest in. "I assume that takes a lot of… work for her."
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
Again, Robin groans as his father picks up the tune again. He's never in this good of a mood, especially not this early. The only times he's ever been like this is when an investment's gone well or when he's screwed someone over and made himself a heap of money.
"You normally don't grace us with your presence."
Robin nods as his eyes shift down the page. "Henry's sick, so-"
"Is it contagious?"
Arching his brow, Robin looks up from the paper. "Afraid of catching something?"
"No," Richard scoffs. "I'm long past childhood ailments."
"Ah, right. Only children get-"
"Roland shares a room with that boy and I don't want my heir-"
"Sadly, I am your heir," Robin says, bristling as he looks pointedly at his father. "Roland and Henry are my heirs." He pauses as his jaw tightens. "And if you must know, Roland hasn't been sleeping in the room with him. Regina has. Roland's been with me."
"Ah-"
Rolling his eyes he looks back at the paper, and he wonders if that isn't a part of his sour mood.
For the past three nights, he's slept in his old bedchamber with Roland. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd selected that room and not just brought him into his and Regina's bed, but it hardly mattered now. He found it difficult to adjust to not having her at his side and though Regina had teased him about having more room in the bed to get comfortable, Roland was a wild sleeper, and more times than not, he awoke in the middle of the night to a swift kick in the stomach or Roland's hand plastered to his face.
Regina had been sleeping with Henry-and she would until the boy's fever broke.
He found it endearing watching her care for Henry-though, he always loved watching her with the boys.
Henry's illness was nothing serious-a head cold and a slight fever-and Doctor Whale assured them he'd be well enough in a few days. But Regina wasn't one to simply let nature take its course. Before the doctor had even made it off of Sherwood's property, Regina and Mal had Roland stripped down and slathered him with some sort of herbal ointment Mal had made while Dr. Whale was examining Henry. Mal opened up the windows while Regina dressed Roland in fresh clothes, and no sooner than his shoes were buckled, he was sent out of the room, complaining that whatever they'd put on him made him smell like dirt.
And as Robin laid with him that same night, he couldn't help but agree.
Over the course of the next couple of days, Regina had been entirely focused on nursing Henry back to health.
Though he hated to see Henry sick, watching Regina care for him made his heart warm-and it reminded him of those first few interactions they had. He remembered the day he'd gone to Dragon Head to ask for her hand in marriage, remembering how he'd stood in the library watching her play with her son on the lawn and how the two of them seemed completely in their own little world. And when she'd first come to Sherwood, Regina spent all of her time in the nursery. She got down on the floor and played with blocks, she hid in closets and behind chairs as they played games of hide-and-seek, and she curled up by the fire reading both boys tall tales as they drifted to sleep. It wasn't lost on him how quickly Roland had taken to her nor was it a surprise. She'd filled in a void for him where Marian should have been-and she'd done it so effortlessly.
It'd been somewhere between that first moment when he'd watched her at Dragon Head and one spring day when he'd found his new wife cuddling his sick son and singing him lullabies to comfort him that he'd realized he was in love with her. Before that, it'd been the idea that he could love her-he certainly liked her-but the more he saw of her with their sons, the more his feelings solidified into something real. Still though, he couldn't quite pinpoint it. It'd just happened-and he liked the mystery and suddenness of it. It seemed fitting for them and the way their marriage came to be.
When Regina was with their sons, she seemed very much in her element. She was a natural mother and it was a role she took quite seriously. When she was with them, she seemed to forget all the pretense that governed her. Normally, she was so concerned about appearances-what people would think if she laughed too loudly or said the wrong thing, how they'd judge her if she offered an unpopular opinion or attended a party someone else thought she shouldn't; but when she was with their sons, all that went away. She was more relaxed, more casual even, and instead of a stylish dress that was carefully chosen and her hair done up, she wore a plain blue dress with a white apron tied around her hips. Her hair was pulled back in a long, and somewhat messy, braid that she'd done herself.
Regina spent the day dictating Henry's every move-his meals contained lots of broths and teas, he took baths and was lathered up in oils, and between naps she read him stories and played card games with him. Robin ducked in occassionally, but he always seemed to pop in while Henry was asleep-and, of course, between his lessons, he had Roland to entertain. Her nights were spent at Henry's bedside, sleeping in a rocker, just in case his fever returned or he felt sick in the middle of the night. And as laborious as all that was, it kept her distracted, and that, in an odd way, relaxed her.
But he missed her, and thought it'd just been a couple of days and it was temporary and even though he still saw her throughout the day, it was oddly reminiscent of his life before her-and he hated it.
"Whose carriage did I just see driving off? Who visits anyone before nine o'clock in the morning?"
"Mr. Scarlett," Robin answers in a disinterested voice as a little gasp escapes his father. "It's nothing to concern you."
"Mr. Scarlett is-"
"Helping Regina and me with-"
"Regina," Richard scoffs. "I might've known."
"Yes," Robin replies, his eyes narrowing. "Perhaps you might've if you ever took the time to get to know her."
"I don't-"
"She's got a mind for business. She's smart and-"
"Ohh," Richard cuts in, his face crumpling with disgust. "I know exactly the type of business that woman knows. We all do. And if you think it's appropriate for-"
"As I said," Robin interjects, his voice rising over his father's. "You've never taken the time to get to know her." He pauses, and for a moment, he considers just leaving it there-but his father's inability to see past one, minute detail of her past life grates at him. It'd be one thing if Regina wasn't so bothered by it; but she was, and for her to have to live in a house where how she responded at her lowest moment in life was constantly the measure of her character, was simply unfair. "She had an idea. I ran with it, and now Mr. Scarlett is helping us manage the profits."
Richard's eyes narrow and his interest shifts-as they always do when any conversation turns to money. "Profits. Profit from what?"
"An investment-"
"And what does Mr. Scarlett have to do with that? He manages-"
"He dabbles in other things," Robin says coyly. "As I said, Regina had an idea, I proposed it to Mr. Scarlett, and it worked out quite nicely for the three of us."
Richard scoffs. "Any profitable investment you make is an investment Sherwood makes."
"Not this one. This one doesn't concern the estate, or you."
"Of course it does! Any investment this estate makes concerns me. That's how estates like ours work! I know you've never taken much of an interest in-"
"Not this one," Robin interjects, still focused on the paper and wishing he'd have excused himself earlier.
"Sherwood is my-"
"Sherwood didn't make the investment. I did," Robin cooly replies, glancing up from the paper and watching his father's face begin to redden. "I didn't take money from the estate. I borrowed against my return. Had it failed, I'd have been in trouble and had to involve the estate, but it didn't fail, so the estate remains separate from it."
Clearing his throat, he shrugs, not wanting to get into the details of the investment or why he was so keen to take the risk-though, now that the risk was behind him, it seemed so small. But his father wouldn't see that, he'd only perseverate on the what ifs-and he'd never been one to push the boundaries of the status quo. Still, he wouldn't see the investment for what it was-a brilliant opportunity that could potentially lead to him and Regina living a life independent from Sherwood, or perhaps, maybe he did and maybe that's what scared him most.
Nonetheless, it didn't matter and it didn't involve him. "So, as I said, my meeting with Mr. Scarlett doesn't concern you because it doesn't concern the estate."
Richard mutters something underneath his breath as he sits back in his chair, looking aghast as he looks around the empty dining room. "Where the hell are the footmen?"
"I told them they could attend to other things. No need for four of them to stand here and watch me eat."
Richard's jaw tightens as he looks pointedly back to Robin. "And who will serve me?"
Rolling his eyes, Robin reaches forward, touching his fingers to a plate of sausages, and as a snide little grin edges across his face, he gives the dish a little shove that sends it toward his father. "I believe you have a fork set down beside your plate and trust you know how to use it."
His father's eyes widen. "You've lost your mind. This isn't how-"
"I understand the point of estates like ours," Robin cuts in sharply, "so, spare me the lecture. But there's a difference between being a good employer who meets the needs to the village he lords over and being an entitled, self-important man." Setting down the paper, Robin rises. "I don't know if you've noticed or not, but sickness has swept through the house. Henry isn't the only one who has taken ill. Four maids and two footmen have had to work through it which only spreads it around, and if the cook gets it, we're all in trouble. So, yes, I allowed the footmen a bit of time off to rest. It seemed the least I could do."
Again his father's jaw tightens as his eyes narrow, and it looks as if he wants to argue-and on another day, he might engage, but today he had other plans.
He gets up gingerly, offering a tight smile he knows will make his father stew as he tosses down the newspaper-and then, he doesn't give his father or the estate another thought.
Regina smiles as she turns to the door, all the while keeping a cool rag on Henry's forehead. "Hey, you."
"Good morning to you both."
"G'morning," Henry murmurs, lifting his head slightly. "Is Roland with you?"
"No," Robin tells him, frowning slightly. "He didn't get a good night's sleep, so I let him sleep in."
"Oh-"
"Still kicking?"
"All night," Robin sighs. "I'm fairly certain my stomach is bruised." His eyes shift to Henry as he sits down on the edge of the boy's bed. "I think he misses you."
"I miss him," Henry says, his eyes hooded as they shift from Robin to Regina. "Sometimes, we get up and play with-"
"Henry-"
"I know. We're supposed to sleep. But it's not like we're tired in the morning."
"And they'll still take a nap," Robin says, offering Henry a quick wink as he grabs his foot and gives it a little squeeze. "And you're telling me," he says, looking to Regina, "you never did that as a child? Got up and played with your toys or-"
"I wasn't allowed to have toys in my nursery."
Henry frowns. "Grandmother sounds like terribly fun mum."
Regina laughs, shaking her and remember that when she was Henry's age, her bedtime came before dark. Her father would come in, though, usually after dinner with puppets-one of which was a witch made from a purple fabric that looked mysteriously like one of her mother's dresses that'd gone missing-and he'd tell her stories that lasted hours. The older she got, the longer the stories seemed to last, and once she was too old for bedtime stories and puppet shows, her father would look away as she snuck out of her bedroom. She'd end up in the stables, playing card games with Daniel and Mal as Daniel's grandfather made his final rounds of the stables, and she remembers the disheartened sigh whenever her father would appear telling her that now, it really was bedtime.
"Something tells me," Robin murmurs, leaning in toward Henry, "the word fun has never once been associated with your grandmother."
"Yes, it has," Henry says, pulling himself up on his elbows. "Grandpapa says fun is what she kills, that she does it for sport."
"As you might've guessed, his fever seems to have broken and he's feeling a bit better."
"Yes," Robin laughs as Henry lays back, blinking a few times. "That's quite clear, but he still looks tired."
"He needs rest," Regina agrees, dabbing the cloth over Henry's forehead again. "But the worst of it's finally over for him."
"Does that mean Roland can come back?"
Regina grins, offering a quick wink. "Perhaps."
"Speaking of Roland," Mal says, coming through the door that connects her room to the nursery. "Where is he?" She looks between them and they look at each other. "I assumed he was with-"
"He's not in my old room? That's where I left him."
"I just checked. He's not."
Regina looks to Robin, his eyes widening. "You lost him?"
"I didn't lose him," Robin sighs. "I… misplaced him… because he wandered off…"
"After he was left unattended."
"He was asleep!"
Henry giggles. "I bet he's in the kitchen."
"Why would he have-"
"Cookies."
Robin grins and Regina feels her shoulders relax-that seems plausible enough.
"Why don't you two go and find Roland before the kitchen maids start slapping his hands and I'll watch-"
"You're looking for Master Roland?" They all look up at one of the maids-a newer girl who hasn't quite picked up on the way Sherwood works, and therefore, has yet to give Regina attitude or even as much as a snide glare-comes in with clean linens for Henry's bed. "He's just sit down to breakfast."
Regina watches as Robin's brow furrows. "Sat down to breakfast-"
"-on his own?" she asks, looking to the maid. "In the-"
"With my father."
Regina looks back to him. "Oh-"
For a moment, an uncomfortable silence hovers in the air as she stares at Robin and Mal directs the maid to put away the washed linens on a particular shelf in the wardrobe. Roland sitting down to breakfast with his grandfather shouldn't be upsetting to her and it shouldn't be something that made her worry; yet, for some reason, it did.
Richard didn't interact much with Roland. He wasn't the sort of man who enjoyed the company of children-especially not small ones-and whenever Roland was around, Richard seemed annoyed. He barely made an effort to talk him and never played with him-he just wasn't that sort of grandfather. Yet, at that same time, Richard took an interest in the boy. He bought him things-an expensive jeweled pocket watch, a bronze sculpture of a horse, a property in the city-but they were never things that Roland wanted or could enjoy. Instead, they pointed to wealth and status-thing that were important to Richard-and when Roland didn't show the excitement or gratitude Richard expected, he became critical. He always blamed her-her, and then Robin-for how Roland was being raised, making it seem as if the boy was uneducated and uncouth, instead of simply a five-year old. He criticized their choices when it came to Roland's education, and on more occasions than she could count, expressed his desire for Roland to be sent away to an expensive school where he'd be trained by the best teachers and meet peers who'd grow up to be lords of massive estates. He loved to talk about how Sherwood would one day be his, and he couldn't understand why that was such an abstract concept for Roland-again, something he used to fault her parenting.
When Richard was annoyed, he yelled-and the more he yelled, the more withdrawn Roland became. Even without the yelling, Roland was uncomfortable in his grandfather's company, and usually by the end of it, he was in tears.
Slowly, Regina stands. "I, um... I think I'm just going to go down and check-"
"I'll come, too," Robin says, rising up from the bed and looking just as alarmed as she feels. "Just to check."
"Take my dragon." Both she and Robin look to Henry watching as his eyes flutter open and he offers them a tight grin. "He likes my dragon. It makes him feel better."
"That's kind," Robin says, grinning as he leans in to pluck the stuffed toy from Henry's bed-and in spite of the uneasiness in her stomach, Regina can't help but smile as Robin drops a kiss to Henry's forehead before tucking the dragon beneath his arm.
"Will you-"
"Of course I'll watch him," Mal says, grinning as she cuts in. "Sometimes I think the two of you forget that's what you pay me to do."
Regina smiles and nods as Robin leads her into the hallway. She draws in a breath as his fingers curl down around hers, and her stomach lurches a bit a the quickness of his step, giving her own uneasiness some credibility.
"I know I shouldn't worry about-"
"I don't like him spending time alone with my father. It upsets him."
"I know he doesn't mean to-"
"He makes no effort not to upset him. To him, Roland is just another symbol of his status. He's not a little boy, he's a possession." Regina frowns, thinking of the way she dreaded the time directly after tea when her mother would request her presence. "And Zelena was supposed to be joining him as well."
"Oh," Regina murmurs, her eyes sinking closed. "I really wish she'd find someone else to latch onto."
Robin grins back at her from over her shoulder. "Perhaps we should set her up. Perhaps we can pawn her off on some unfortunate Spanish prince or-"
"She did fancy the Bavarian prince I was supposed to marry."
"Wasn't he your father's age?"
"Older," she sighs, laughing a little. "She has a type."
"I am having the strangest sense of dèja vu. I think we've discussed this before. The vague nausea is familiar."
Rolling her eyes, Regina shakes her head. "It's not a bad idea, though, finding someone richer to distract her." Robin doesn't laugh though; instead he looks uncomfortable. Her brow furrows slightly, but before she can ask about it, they're at the dining room, and just as they suspected, Roland is sitting at the table with Richard and Zelena.
Roland can barely see over the table and the fork in his hand is too big, both of which are making it a struggle for him to eat-and she's bothered by the fact that no one is helping him. Robin sighs, muttering something she doesn't quite catch under his breath-instead, she's focused on Zelena's laugh. It's a quiet sort of laugh and doesn't seem to be a response to anything in particular, but instead a reflection of her enjoyment at playing house.
Regina bristles as her jaw tightens and her eyes fix on Roland, still struggling to reach his food.
Richard asks something in a low voice and Roland frowns in reply-then, in a deeper voice Richard tells him he's been asked a question, reminding him that it's rude to ignore someone when they're speaking. Roland's bottom lip pouts out as he looks up at his grandfather, then looks to Zelena.
"Would you like to go for a walk later on this morning?" Zelena coos as she leans in toward him. "Wouldn't that be great fun?"
"No," Roland replies clearly, his brow crumpling. "It looks cold out."
"Roland," Richard warns. "It's rude to-"
"I want my mama."
"Well, unfortunately, that's not a request any of us can grant." Regina feels her chest tighten and, momentarily, her eyes press closed as she draws in a short breath. "Your presence was requested on a walk and-"
"But I don't want to go for a walk," Roland whines, dropping down his fork. "I want to have my breakfast and read stories with my mama!"
"Well, your mother is dead," Richard snaps. "So, there's no use in-"
Regina's in the dining room before she even realizes that she's taken a step, and Robin is right behind her. She feels her cheeks burning as she strides toward the table, earning a gasp from both Robin and Zelena.
"How dare you talk to him that way," she scolds. "He's just a little boy."
"His age hardly excuses rudeness. Perhaps if he were being raised better, none of this would be an issue."
"Regina," Zelena interjects in a condescending tone. "Richard only wants to spend time with his-"
"He wasn't rude. He only said that he doesn't want to go outside for a walk," she says, cutting in and elevating her voice over Zelena's. "Besides, that's not what I was referring to."
Roland offers a nervous little grin as he looks between her and his grandfather. Even he knows that the notion that she might not be a mother to him is a sore subject. Normally, she's more respectful of it, understanding Marian's place in the hearts of the Locksley men; but this time, it doesn't seem like it's about Marian at all. Instead, it seems like a reminder of her place-and she hates that Richard tries to put such ideas in Roland's head.
"Richard," Zelena says in a nearly sing-song whisper that's not unlike the one she addresses Roland with. "Why don't we go. She's clearly in hysterics. Perhaps the sickness sweeping through the house has found her. Those sorts of things do target those weak in faith, you know."
"Can't you see that he's uncomfortable?" she asks, ignoring her father-in-law's lack of response and ignoring Zelena's presence entirely. "He can barely reach his plate, so he hasn't eaten any of his breakfast, and no one in this room bothered to help." She looks between Richard and Zelena, then pointedly at the two footmen standing beside the buffet. "It's cold. Sickness is spreading through this house like wildfire, and you want to take him outside for a walk? And do what? Ignore him? Scold him? Tell him he's rude when he shivers?" Holding out her hand, she shakes her head, softening as her eyes fall on Roland. "Come on, sweetheart. We'll get you some breakfast and a sweater and-"
"A story?" Roland asks, blinking up at her expectantly as his face brightens. "I've missed your bedtime stories."
Richard scoffs at that, but she smiles nonetheless, ignoring him. "How about…" Her voice trails off as Roland's fingers fold around her hand. "How about a story for every night you've spent out of the nursery?"
"That's three," Roland whispers, grinning as she helps him down from the chair-and it's only as she turns that she remembers Robin is there with her. Robin is wearing a proud little smirk and it looks like he's holding back the urge to laugh, and though she could choose to feel annoyed that he didn't jump to her defense, she decides that she's grateful for a husband who lets her speak her mind. "Papa, are you coming, too?"
"Um. no," Robin murmurs, looking down at his son. "I think I want to stay and have a little chat with your grandfather."
Robin offers a quick wink as she hoists Roland onto her hip-and as she carries him out of the dining room, Robin follows behind, just long enough to watch her and Roland start up the stairs. Then, when they're about half way, the dining room doors close and she hears a very muffled What the hell is wrong with you fly from her husband's mouth.
When he finds Regina and Roland, they're in their bedchamber. Regina is sitting in a chair by the fire with Roland cuddled up on her chest, and a big, thick blanket covers them both. There's a fire crackling at the hearth and the storybook that Regina usually reads at bedtime is folded on her knee-and it appears that Roland barely made it through the first story.
"Is he asleep?"
Regina nods. "He was tired. He says you snore."
"And what do you say?
She grins. "That he's right. You do."
Robin shakes his head as he comes closer. "You've never complained." Regina just shrugs and looks back to Roland, her hand rubbing circles overtop the blanket. "I suppose it's good to know that neither of us are sleeping."
"Well, if Henry's fever doesn't come back, I suppose you'll both get a good night's sleep tonight." A smirk edges onto his lips. "How, um… how did the conversation go after Roland and I left?"
Robin's eyes roll. "About the same as when you were there."
"Ah-"
"I don't know why he has to be so callous."
"He doesn't like me," Regina says a bit too dismissively. "I doubt I'll ever change his mind."
"Regina-"
"He doesn't have to like me," she says easily, grinning back at him. "As long as you do."
"I do," he's quick to tell her. "I like you quite a bit."
"I just… I just wish he wouldn't speak ill of me to Roland. He's young and impressionable and-"
"-and he loves you very much."
Regina nods and looks back to Roland. "I just worry that one day the truth about me will come spilling out and all the terrible things he's heard about me will come flooding back and-"
"That's not going to happen."
"We can't control-"
"No, no," he cuts in. "I'm not denying that one day our sons might learn the details of your life before our marriage. Unfortunately, that's out of our control. But it's a long time coming, if it ever comes, and by then they'll have a lifetime of memories to counter it."
Regina nods and gives him a half-hearted smile-she doesn't quite believe that, though it's clear she'd like to, and there's little point in arguing over what-ifs and maybes.
"Don't mind me," she murmurs after awhile. "I'm just a bit stir crazy." She grins. "This is the first I've even been out of the nursery in days, and this isn't much different."
Robin brightens at the opportunity to shift the subject. "Then let's change that."
"You have something in mind," she says, grinning softly. "But I don't know if I should leave-"
"As Mal keeps pointing out, we pay her to look after our boys. Henry's napping and past the worst of it, Roland is apparently exhausted from all my snoring, and you could clearly use a couple of hours away." Her brow arches as he stands. "I've got a few things to attend to in town. Why don't you come along?"
"I don't-"
"Regina, it'll be a couple of hours. At most."
She considers it for a moment, biting down on her lip. "What do you have to do?"
"Just a follow up to a meeting."
Her brow arches. "The meeting that wasn't with Mr. Gold."
"No, the meeting with Mr. Scarlett," he says, sighing. "Remember, you were supposed to be there and-"
"Oh. Right. That was today."
Robin nods. "That was today."
Regina's eyes narrow, but she grins. "It's just so odd that Gold was here. Maybe-"
"Maybe you were mistaken," Robin says, trying not to bristle. He'd like to keep this afternoon light, and if possible, cast away any thoughts of Gold or any dealings he might have with him-and he certainly doesn't want her to know that he, too, is concerned about Gold being at Sherwood that morning. "Carriages are-"
"No one else in their right mind outfits their horses in gold barding like he's marching them off to defend the Byzantine Empire from the Turks during the Crusades."
Robin blinks. "That's… a fair point, but if he was here, it has nothing to do with me."
"So, that leaves-"
"Quite a few questions that we likely won't find answers to right now."
"Why are you putting me off?"
"I'm not," he lies. "I just… I want to spend a nice afternoon with you. I miss you. I miss talking and laughing and-" A grin pulls onto her lips. "And I don't want to think about unpleasant things today."
"Fine, but-"
"Does that mean you'll accompany me?" Robin asks, cutting in in a hopeful voice. "Because-"
"Yes. I'll come, as long as Mal doesn't mind watching the boys."
"You know she won't."
"I know," Regina admits, grinning. "Just let me put him down in the nursery and get dressed-"
"You look-"
"Like I've spent the past few days playing nurse. I won't be long."
Robin nods. "How about I take him, then?"
Regina offers a reluctant little sigh before nodding, and carefully transfers Roland into his arms. Roland doesn't move, aside from his head falling to Robin's shoulder and Regina leans in and kisses his messy hair before turning into the dressing room to change-and as he carries his son to the nursery, he ignores the queasy feeling in his stomach and stops himself just short of regretting ever going to see Rupert Gold.
Getting away from Sherwood refreshes her.
Despite the cold, they take the scenic route into town. They talk lightly at first, filling each other in on all of the mundane occurrences over the past couple of days and trading anecdotal stories about their sons. She laughs when Robin elaborates on the restless nights he shared with Roland, and she blushes when he confesses that he found it difficult to unwind without her beside him.
They move on quickly to more serious topics and she listens intently as Robin fills her in on his meeting with Will Scarlett-and as he goes on, it's hard to stifle her smile.
She hadn't been at all sure of herself when she suggested it-and to be honest, she had no idea what Robin was going to do with her answer or why he wanted to know, so she'd just said the first thing that came to mind-but in the first weeks of their marriage when they'd first started meeting to discuss the estate, she had no idea that his intentions were sincere. At the time, she thought he was simply being kind; after all, everyone knew the Locksleys had done well for themselves, that their estate was growing, and she had every reason to think that the younger Mr. Locksley was just as shrewd at managing the estate's finances as the elder. Then, their conversations seemed as if they were merely a way to make her feel involved and valued; she never imagined that he actually cared about her opinions. She thought he merely wanted to extend an olive branch and set the tone for their union.
But looking back, she saw it differently.
There'd been a glint in his eyes when he'd asked her what she'd invest in if money were infinite and risk wasn't a factor-and he'd nodded along as she explained the steam engine seemed ready to change the world. Locomotives were, of course, dangerous, but improving every year-and she easily saw a world connected by railway in her own lifetime.
It was the silly thing her father might have said-he was always making risky investment in the latest technology, most of which flopped horribly-and it seemed a sure way to lose a fortune. But Robin disagreed and asked to hear more of her thoughts, and she'd hesitated momentarily before spilling all that she knew about the topic. She talked about the speed of the engines and how finding the right formula to successfully run a train would happen sooner rather than later, and she talked about how exciting it'd be to be on the cusp of something so exciting and life-altering, how even the farthest parts of the country could be connected to the center.
Her cheeks flushed when he chuckled softly, and she'd been fully prepared for him to tell her that her ideas were outlanding and silly, that locomotives transported coal, not people or that a transcontinental railroad would rip up the countryside and ruin the earth-but he admitted he'd had similar thoughts ever since Blenkinsop had built a function locomotive that could transport merchandise, he'd thought the transporting of people was inevitable.
They'd laughed together and agreed to discuss it again, and once more, she was sure that the topic would be dropped-but the next week, Robin presented her with an advertisement. A man named Stephenson hoped to link some of the larger villages-Manchester to Liverpool, all of London-and was looking for investors. She'd chewed nervously on her lip as he'd asked her to help him pen a letter to a man named Will Scarlett, who worked for Stephenson, and that had been that…
"He's meeting with some chap from Berlin-"
"Berlin?"
Robin nods. "Someone who worked for the Royal Berlin Iron Foundry. Says he can build a track."
"Here? Not there?"
"Here, in Stockton," Robin confirms. "He left there for… some reason." Robin shrugs as she looks over at him. "I don't know why and I don't particularly care. What I do care about is this."
Regina watches as he rummages through his pocket, grinning triumphantly as he pulls out a scrap of paper. She blinks as he holds it between two fingers and extends it to her. "And what is this?"
"Look."
Her eyes narrow as she unfolds the paper. "Alri-oh." Her eyes widen as she looks at the number, written in pencil on the paper. "Is this…" She looks to Robin. "What is this?"
"That's our cut of Stephenson's last patent."
"Just our cut? Not-"
"Just ours," he beams. "And they'll only get bigger from here."
Swallowing, she looks back at the paper scrap. "Robin, this is more than-"
"Expected," he supplies as her voice falters. "I know. Quite a lot more, too."
Nodding, she hands him back the paper scrap and her stomach flutters. She hadn't imaged the returns to be as large as they'd been, but it seemed the more steam locomotives became safer and more reliable, the more possibilities for their use opened up, and the more return there was on their initial investment. If things kept up as they were, they'd soon match the sizable sum her parents had set aside from her dowry-and if they kept up beyond that, their investments would outgrow the money her father had lost and possibly even the amount his father had contributed, over his whole lifetime, to the estate.
"So, you continued."
"Yes," he says easily. "I reinvested it almost all again."
"Almost all-"
Robin nods. "I spread our investment out a bit."
"Oh?" Regina murmurs as Robin looks to her an grins as their carriage rounds the bend and edges toward town. "And… that has nothing to do with Mr. Gold?" Regina laughs a little as his eyes narrow and roll. "You know I'm not going to let this go."
"But I wish you would," he sighs, bristling a little. "I don't have any information to supply you. It's… a moot point to bring up." And then, a grin twists onto his lips. "I'd rather talk about how Will and I bought a coal mine."
"A coal mine," she repeats, her eyes widening slightly. "You mean-"
"If these locomotives really take off, we could be a supplier."
"Oh… wow… I hadn't-" She blinks. "I hadn't really thought of that."
"It's up north."
"Oh-"
"Near the lodge," he tells her, his eyes shining as his brows wiggle. "So, perhaps when we go up at the end of the month, we could check it out."
"I'd like that," she tells him with an earnest nod-and then her brow arches. "But you're keeping something from me and I think it's about Gold."
Her stomach lurches as he looks away from her, and her head spins with possibilities that make her regret pushing at the subject.
"I hired him," he confesses in a low voice, carefully keeping his eyes ahead on the path. "He wasn't there to see me, but I did hire him."
"Oh," Regina murmurs. "Why?"
Again, there's a long pause and then, Robin looks over at her. "Zelena."
"Zelena."
He nods. "She's up to something. I don't know what. I can't quite connect the dots, but it's more than... the comforts a man of my father's position can bring her. This isn't about getting to live in a great house and attend soirees where she can wear expensive things or finding some unsuspecting sap to bankroll of the lavish lifestyle she thinks herself entitled. This is different." He looks back to the path. "I… I'm worried it's… more."
"But… that's what she does. It's what she always does. She latches on until-"
"I'm worried this time it concerns you."
"Me? Well, it's obvious she's lost all-"
"Regina, she kissed me."
"What?" Her stomach flops and her mouth goes dry. "She… she kissed you? When? Why didn't-"
"I shouldn't have kept it from you, but-"
"No, you shouldn't have," she cuts in, her voice rising as her cheeks burn, and she actively has to remind herself that her upset shouldn't be directed at him. "Why did you?" she asks, her voice calmer as she fidgets with her fingers. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know," he admits. "I just… I don't know what she's up to, exactly, and I didn't want you to confront her and… and her have the upper hand and… do something to you."
"Do something?" Regina scoffs. "I don't think there's anything else she could do that-"
"You don't know that," he cuts in. "You didn't see her that night-"
"When she kissed you-"
"Yes," he sighs. "I'd never seen her look that way. She's always been snide and stuck up, but this was different. She was almost manic-crazed, like-you could see it in her eyes."
"She gets like that when she wants something."
"But am I what she wants? She'd barely given me the time of day before then and why would she risk my father finding out?"
"Maybe she didn't think he would," Regina suggest, her voice almost hushed as her stomach flops. "I wonder-"
"She timed it, Regina," Robin tells her, cutting in and looking over at her with eyes full of concern. "She made sure that we were caught." Pressing her eyes closed, she sighs-that's why maids were talking about him kissing someone else and that's why she smelled someone else's perfume on him that night. "And… I don't know that you were her target."
"What?" she asks, her eyes fluttering open as her brow furrows. "What do you mean?"
Robin shrugs, sighing loudly as his head falls back a bit. "I wish I knew."
"Oh…"
"So, that's why I went to Gold. I wanted to… find something on her."
"And?"
Robin shrugs. "I have to meet with him later on today in some seedy little tavern on the outskirts of town." Her lips part, ready to insist that she should come along, but Robin shakes his head knowingly and she frowns. "I don't want you near him. He's dangerous and-"
"Strength in numbers?"
"That's a rule for debutantes going to the powder room."
Bristling, she sits back as they start toward Main Street. "But I-"
"No," he cuts in as a smile twists onto his lips. "Besides, you've another errand to run."
"I do?" she asks, her brow cocked as she looks back at him. "And what errand is that?"
"You need to go see Ruby and order something for Mary Margaret Blanchard's ball."
"Oh, Robin, I don't think we should-"
"I want to go," he cuts in. "I want to go and spend a night drinking and dancing with you, making all the other poor chaps jealous."
"You'll hardly make anyone jealous."
"I beg to differ. I just happen to be married to the prettiest-"
"Flattery won't make me forget about your meeting with Gold or-"
"You're not going," he says firmly. "Instead, you're going to pick out some fabric and have Ruby make it into some dress you'll make look stunning and-"
Regina folds her arms over her chest and frowns. "This is so patronizing."
Robin sighs. "I don't mean to be patronizing, but the simple truth is that I don't want to give that man any leverage over me, and if he catches a glimpse between us, he'll know exactly how much you mean to me." Regina's eyes roll as their carriage pulls up in front of Granny Lucas's dress shop. "And truth be told, the fact that he was near Sherwood and I don't know why makes me a bit nervous as it is."
"That's still incredibly patronizing," she murmurs. "But Belle did give me something to give to Ruby, so you win… this time."
Robin presses a kiss to her cheek before jumping down from the carriage, offering her his hand as he helps her down and presses a kiss to her cheek, suggesting they'll rendezvous for luncheon at the tavern by the park. Then, just after she kisses him back, she grins and nods and agrees that a lunch of anything other than broth shared with Henry sounds lovely.
As she makes her way to the door, she watches as he starts down Main Street again, then rounds the corner, leading the carriage away from town-and with a wistful sigh, she puts on a smile and pushes away all thoughts of Rupert Gold.
Granny Lucas smiles at her as the door opens and the bell attached to it jingles, and she holds her breath as another customer looks away. Guilt pangs at her core as the woman pulls her hand away from a spool of fabric, and she looks away as the woman skirts past her, making a hasty exit.
"I'm sor-"
"Never mind it ," Granny says, shaking her head. "She always orders things on the cheap, then complains until we take more off. Always trying to get something for nothing. Good riddance, I say." Regina offers a weak little smile as she turns and watches the woman hurrying down the street, hating that the Lucas' lost business because of her. "What brings you in today?"
"Oh, I, um… I have something for Ruby."
"Ah, well, she's in the back fixing a hem," Granny tells her, smiling gently. "You're more than welcome to go back, or I can deliver-"
"No," Regina murmurs, her smile brightening a bit. "I promised this would be personally delivered."
Granny laughs softly and grins, directing her to the back work room-and Regina feels a slight bit of relief when the bell on the door jingles again as another customer enters, hopefully replacing any sale they might've made when the last customer left.
She lingers in the doorway, watching as Ruby sews. The fabric is lace and it looks so delicate and she doesn't want to catch her off-guard, so she just stands there watching as she weaves the thread through the lace-and she offers a sheepish laugh when Ruby's eyes slowly turn up to meet hers.
"I didn't expect you," she says. "Usually Belle writes or-"
"Oh, but that's why I'm here."
Ruby's smile fades. "Is she alright? I know she's been sick and-"
"She's fine," Regina's quick to say. "Or, she will be." Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she pulls out a little envelope that's held closed with some twine. "She wanted me to bring this to you."
"So, you're here as a courier for your maid?"
"Something like that."
Ruby brightens as Regain extends the envelope and takes a few steps into the workroom. She gets up and meets her half way, taking the envelope and rubbing her fingers along its edges-and as Ruby takes in Belle's letter, Regina stares at lace on the sewing table.
"Do you… sell that lace?"
"What?" Ruby asks, turning back and watching as Regina touches her fingers to it. "Oh, yes. Now we do. I ordered it from Italy for a wedding dress, but turns out, it's only going to be used for the veil. And the first one I made was too long."
Regina nods, her stomach fluttering as a smile tugs up at the corner of her mouth. "So, if you have enough for a dress, you certainly have enough for a robe."
Ruby nods. "It pairs nicely as an overlay with quite a few different-"
"No," Regina cuts in. "I just want the lace."
"Just the lace," Ruby says slowly, looking to the thin fabric. "But it's practically-" Regina's cheeks flush Ruby's voice halts as she suddenly understands-and then, the two of them dissolve into a fit of awkward giggles.
