The situation in Nottingham left fewer factions in that next year, and the lines between them were clearer. Those who remained independent found themselves squeezed between loyalty to a beloved if absent king and the need to protect their families, properties, and tenants. Taxes increased and pressured the shires until Marian found it necessary to carefully conserve food and goods to give to the less fortunate. Several weddings occurred at once in a nearby shire, just to feed all the same people at one time. Marian quietly gave a dozen chickens and laying hens to the couples as part of her gift.
Marian watched her father disappear into his study with lords who came and went at all hours. Months and months worth of cautious communications, veiled in prose and flattery, did not truly reflect the time and energy spent arranging back-channel meetings to maintain impartiality. Sir Edward lost weight and looked drawn, but worked ceaselessly, carefully keeping his allegiances open. He dined with her less often, always between meetings or just until his ink dried, a smile on his lips and a nervous draw to his brow.
And so Marian had re-entered society largely on her own. She'd visited neighbors, danced at the edges of feast days, spoken with men in public and even sat with unrelated men from time to time. All were done in full view of her father, the priest, or with a matron of unquestionable standing. It had been slowly done, and only the shrillest gossips whispered about her before turning their attention to juicier topics.
It was possible the gossips would talk about her more soon, for the Maiden's Feast of Knighton was a mere two days away and Marian found herself once again organizing the bulk of the event as she prepared herself for a repeated debut. The dress she chose for the feast was fine, embroidered with silver-shot threads so she would glisten in the sun. Her days of half matron, half mourning costumes were over; she would only don the attire again when it was hers to take and not for convention.
To see that the preparations were going smoothly, Marian dressed in soft blue draped with yellow trim and set out to survey the work. The pigs were being prepared for the roasting pits while baskets of apples awaited peeling and trimming for pies and tarts. Pheasants and partridges were to be plucked and their eggs set aside for delicacies, and the figs that would be overripe were given to village children so as to not waste them. It was a good year so far, and if the weather held, there would even be strawberries enough for sharing.
A faint rumble caught Marian's attention; a number of heavy horses were approaching. Marian turned to the house and saw her father's face turn grim before he approached the road to greet whatever was coming.
"You should go inside, Marian," he said.
"I have work to do. Besides, maybe they're travelers coming to the festival early."
Sir Edward shrugged, long accustomed to his daughter's ways. Were he not so busy he might take the time to correct her, but as it was, what energy he could assemble was in service of other aims.
A squad of ten or so uniformed men, well mounted and clad in black, appeared on the road. As they approached, it was clear the man astride a huge black mount was their commander. He motioned to his men to stay back as he continued, halting his horse near Sir Edward.
"My lord," the man called. "We heard of a great festival and came to claim Nottinghams's share. Perhaps your obligations are ready ahead of schedule?"
Marian walked closer and watched her father formulate his answer.
"Sir Guy, you are most welcome. Alas, this is a small feast we hold annually and can be of no consequence. Just a bit of meat, apples, and figs, I'm afraid."
The big man dismounted and patted his horse with a massive gloved hand. "The castle can always use meat, Sir Edward. By the look of it you've far more than necessary for a small feast and can certainly spare some." He looked over the grounds towards the pits where the first pigs were being lowered in. "I'll send a cart tomorrow to take the first one off the coals."
Marian stepped forward. "You are certainly welcome, sir, but this feast is in honor of the women and girls of Knighton and the nearby villages." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father wringing his hands, trying to quiet her, but she continued.
"It is said that families are only as strong as the women who raise them. If men want to have families, they are obligated to provide. It's a chance for our young men to learn what that means and have a day where they celebrate the women they hope to marry."
Sir Guy raised an eyebrow. "As charming as your village customs are-?" He glanced at Sir Edward.
"Ah! My daughter, the Lady Marian of Knighton. Marian, this is Sir Guy," her father said significantly. "He is the right hand of the new High Sheriff of Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire."
Sir Guy frowned. "I did not know you had a daughter, Sir Edward."
"She has been… busy, and otherwise occupied these last few years."
Sir Guy twitched a faint smile. "Arranging feasts for girls rather than accompanying you to Nottingham?"
"Running my estate, my lord, and managing the household. She is a dutiful daughter."
Marian cleared her throat. "Sir Guy, we like to make sure there is more than enough for all and feed the needy afterwards. As such, I am quite sure we can accommodate an additional ten or so soldiers, no matter how hungry the ride may make them."
Sir Guy folded his arms. "What are you suggesting, Lady Marian?"
She suppressed a small smile. "As you may know, young men are often in short supply. I offer a feast with music, dancing, and ale for your men if they come and join the festivities."
"And," Sir Guy began, brows furrowed. "What of Nottingham's share?"
"Your taxes are paid on time," she replied bluntly. "And if you agree to bring some dozen well behaved men who would enjoy a bit of revelry, I may find an additional pig you can take back to Nottingham castle."
Sir Edward stood, frozen, staring at her. Only Sir Guy's reaction would say if his sudden dumbness was due to cleverness or ill-advised audacity.
Sir Guy looked back at his men, then at the preparations happening all around. He uncrossed his arms and motioned to one of his men who dismounted and approached. Marian could not hear what was said, but the smile on the man's face stifled quickly before he nodded and jogged back to his horse.
"Lady Marian, I believe I can provide men of such an attitude. You say the feast is after the morrow?"
"I did."
"And you may discover a pig for Nottingham?"
Marian felt her lips twitch. "I heard one may have escaped the butcher."
Sir Guy tilted his head to the side. "Then with your leave, I will send the cart for the pig tomorrow and my men and I will attend your feast the following day," he turned to Sir Edward, "if that is agreeable to you, Sir Edward."
Marian's father nodded wordlessly.
"Well-behaved men, Sir Guy. I will not have the young women and girls frightened and chased by armed drunkards on their feast day."
"There are men in my guard who are well behaved, even without my orders." Sir Guy touched his chest. "You have my word, Lady Marian."
Marian held out her hand. "Then you have mine, Sir Guy. Send your cart tomorrow."
Sir Guy stripped a glove and took her hand in his. "Till the feast."
As Sir Guy and his men rode away, Marian stood by her father and mentally tallied up the remaining pigs. "Father, there is fowl and mutton enough that the loss of one pig will not be noticed. The spring has been kind so the fields of barley, wheat, and oats are growing well and I hear the ponds are well stocked with trout and eel."
Sir Edward had not yet spoken.
"Father?"
He turned, mouth nearly gaping, then swallowed. "What in the name of the Lord just happened?"
Marian took a deep breath. "Hopefully a very cautious alliance. And a much improved feast. Come on, Papa, there are things to do."
...
As promised, a cart arrived the next day with a message for Sir Edward, but clearly worded for Marian. As the pig was being led to the cart, the soldier looked around at the tended pits and other preparations with a hopeful eye.
"Are you coming tomorrow, good sir?"
The young man kicked at the ground. "Sir Guy said we'd find out tomorrow morning. He wanted us keen and focused until then, and that he'd not allow any behavior that might reflect poorly on him."
Marian brushed a bit of dust from her sleeves. "Did he? Well, you'd best head back, then!"
The cart's gate clanged shut and the pig let out a discontented snort. She did not give the largest one she had left, but selected the finest looking one. A single pig was hardly enough to feed a castle, so it was the principle of the thing that mattered. If they wanted a fat pig, they could feed it themselves.
The next morning's work began just after dawn. The pits would be opened soon and stoked to roast fowl and bake the pies and tarts. Marian gave the job of picking the strawberries to the youngest girls, leaving them with the warning that she knew how much the bed would give and if there were any less, there'd be no tarts or sweets for them.
It was true- she knew exactly how much the bed could give, which was why she allowed for them to eat a few berries each. What was the point of the work if you did not enjoy the fruits of it? As she'd walked away, she'd plucked a few herself and winked over her shoulder at them.
Her berries sat on a small plate at her side as she dressed carefully for the day. The dress had taken much of her budget and others would need to be remade and repaired to make up for it. Even so, Marian admired the heavy silver flourishes that ran through it, and lightly traced the pattern of a flower with her fingertips while her hair was plaited, wrapped, pinned and decorated.
"This is more than you've allowed me to do with your hair in years, my lady. You're a fine picture." Bess sighed happily as Marian forced herself to remain still.
"I've got more than a public debut to accomplish today, Bess."
"So I heard," Bess agreed. "He's a big lad, that one, though he'd have to have been a master-at-arms before the sheriff elevated him."
"Oh?" Marian cared little for the titles but after the way her father had introduced him, it made sense; master-at-arms meant he had been the head of the guard and thus highly skilled in combat. Now he would command much of the goings on in the sheriff's stead and was, therefore, an important man. Perhaps that was why her father had acted as he did when Sir Guy arrived.
Bess planted her fists on her hips and surveyed her work with satisfaction. "Now, let's get the rest of you done."
...
When Marian entered the fields, the crowd parted for her and she picked her way to the shady trees before inspecting the attendants.
Sure enough, the local young men, mostly reed-thin farmers and craftsmen, were joined by a stand of soldiers as thick as trees who looked awkwardly at the long tables of dainty tarts and sweets studded here and there with posies and bundles of sweet herbs. They eyed the fragrant meats lifted from the pits by great forks, ready for carving.
After Sir Edward's welcome and Father Mayson's blessing, the men all set out to gather their offerings. All but one. Sir Guy broke away from his men and strode purposefully toward Marian. The women and girls pulled back to stand behind her.
"Lady Marian, I wish to extend my thanks for the pig you provided and the kind invitation to my men. The day promises to be excellent."
Marian curtseyed lightly. "I'm pleased to hear you say so, but I remind you, Sir Guy, that today a lady's time is dependent upon her pleasure." She gave a half smile that may have turned into a smirk. "It's a poor example if I give you my time absent an offering, don't you think?"
A nervous giggle rose from the girls behind Marian. When Sir Guy stiffened, she put a hand on his arm. "My good sir, we lead the others. Your men will do as you do, and the girls the same for me. I only mean to set the expectation."
This was not what Marian had planned for her return to society. She'd thought to nibble at a few offered plates and then dance with a few trusted men of her village and perhaps the son of a nearby baron before disappearing to the safety of the manor house. This could be more difficult, yet bear far more benefit than having a friendly dance with a neighbor.
Sir Guy glanced down at her hand, stark against his black leather. "Of course." He bowed and set off, his strides eating the ground between Marian's post under the trees and the first set of tables. A few minutes later, he returned, laden down by a sampling of everything the feast had to offer.
"I did not know what you favored, so I…" He jerked his head at a page who laid out a sheet and helped him set down the dishes he'd collected. Among it all, was a bundle of strawberries. Marian reached for it and plucked out a particularly bright one and bit it, discarding the bit of green at the top. She then sampled the pork, pheasant, a pastry, and nibbled from every item Sir Guy had heaped into his arms.
Then she returned to the strawberries and signaled for cups of mead. "Well, Sir Guy, I think I may just spend some time with you after all." She pulled a very large and ripe berry from the cloth and held it out to him. "I'll even share."
It may have been Marian's imagination, but as the soldiers mounted their horses to leave, they did so somewhat off balance. Despite their shocking appetites, they still managed to have plenty to share with Knighton's less fortunate souls. Even Sir Guy's jerkin seemed a bit tighter than when he had arrived, and he walked with a relaxed lope in his gait. A good meal had that effect on people.
"An excellent feast, Sir Edward," Sir Guy nodded to Marian's father as his horse was fetched for him. Sir Edward bowed slightly in return and was drawn away to tend to other business. Sir Guy then turned to Marian and regarded her. She rather felt she was being sized up, though for what she could not be sure.
"Did your men enjoy the day, Sir Guy?"
"It seems so, Lady Marian. I daresay they will need a day to recover."
She covered her mouth in mock horror. "I do hope we have not left Nottingham undefended."
Sir Guy chuckled. "I have hundreds of men. A few well behaved ones can keep to hall patrol with no great loss."
The men pulled into formation and waited for their master. His massive horse pawed at the ground and snuffed impatiently.
Marian extended her hand. "I hope you enjoyed the day, Sir Guy."
Sir Guy bent to take her hand, and brushed his lips across her knuckles. "I was happy to serve at your pleasure, my lady."
The look he gave her as he straightened made Marian's insides flutter. Sir Guy tugged on his gloves and mounted his horse, circled Marian once, then ordered his men to set out just as the sun touched the horizon.
That night Bess hummed to herself with a smile as she took down Marian's hair.
"Bess? Anything you'd like to share?"
"Not at all, my lady. Nothing you're not thinking of already."
...