Chapter Thirteen

Charlotte snuck silently into the alchemy chamber, her heart in her mouth. Although it was like a drum in her ears, she was as silent as a shadow as she crept across the room.

'What on earth am I doing?' she asked herself as she searched for a particular item. When she found it, a grin spread over her face.

"Gotcha," she whispered.

* * *

At the very end of the table, which was festooned with food, the Sheriff and Sir Guy of Gisborne were watching Lord Arthur and Charlotte dancing. The Sheriff was spread out in a comfortable position in his throne-like chair, but his expression was far from relaxed. Sir Guy stood behind him, his arms folded over his chest.

"Look at those legs," Sir Guy said, more to himself than to the Sheriff.

"You're engaged," the Sheriff replied, handing his empty wine cup to Gisborne without even looking at him. Sir Guy scowled.

"Lord Arthur holds Charlotte so closely that it's a wonder that the poor girl can breathe," Marian added, approaching from behind. Sir Guy turned around, resisting the urge to grin.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?" Gisborne asked Marian, his blue eyes bright. Unfortunately for him- but luckily for Marian- the music stopped at that exact moment.

"Maybe some other time," Marian said, barely concealing the delight in her voice.

"Ah! Marian!" Charlotte welcomed her, pulling away from Lord Arthur's's tight grasp. She walked up to her and linked her arm in hers, immediately coming up with false gossip that would bore the men as she steered Marian away.

"Where on earth have you been?" Marian demanded as soon as they were out of earshot. "I was worried sick about you."

Charlotte looked genuinely surprised. "Really? You needn't be."

"What have you been up to?"

"Well, first I congratulated Lord Talkalottaboutnothing, then I got dressed and then I came here. Nothing interesting."

"I see," Marian said, obviously not convinced.

"Let's go and eat," Charlotte suggested, motioning towards the food. "I'm starved."

"Peasants starve, not lucky people like you and I. Evil people like the Sheriff ensure this. Rich people merely get hungry," Marian chided. Charlotte shrugged her shoulders.

"Whatever. I could still eat a horse."

* * *

It was near midnight. Charlotte perched comfortably on the stone stairway that lead up from the courtyard, staring at the stars. She sat stock still, her head craned up towards the dark sky. Oh, the solitude! Charlotte loved more than anything else in the entire world to be alone with her thoughts. Unfortunately, sometimes your thoughts are unforgiving and cruel.

A dark shape slithered towards her, but Charlotte was not at all alarmed. The shadow was vastly disfigured, but it was only a cat. Its amber eyes were like headlamps, sweeping across the courtyard. Its paws padded lightly across the stones, making only a whisper of a sound as it approached her.

"Hello, cat," she welcomed it. It mewed in reply and rubbed against her. Involuntary tears trickled down Charlotte's cheeks as she stroked the animal gently, remembering things that she had hidden away for a long time.

"Am I insane?" Charlotte asked it. "Am I doing the right thing?" There was no reply, and Charlotte smiled. "We're not so different, you and me," she told the cat. "We're wanderers, never quite able to tell a home from a prison."

* * *

The Sheriff lay in his bed, thinking about his exploits and basking in his own glory. He sighed. This usually helped him to sleep, so why not tonight? Deep down, he knew the answer. He had never even considered that possibility…

Light footsteps made the Sheriff freeze. 'Hood!' was his first thought, followed by 'Blast!' A shadow leapt across his wall, then disappeared. Vaizey tried to calm his wildly beating heart, preparing himself for another Robin encounter. He needed to appear calm and blasé, otherwise Hood would think he had the upper hand- and Vaizey could not have that.

A hand was cupped over the Sheriff's mouth. With an irked sigh, he rolled over. The figure was hooded and wore earthy toned clothes.

"Not you again, surely?" the Sheriff groaned. "Please tell me that I'm dreaming and you're actually a beautiful woman." There was an indignant noise from the hooded person as they pulled off their cloak.

"Define beautiful," Charlotte scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. This time it was the Sheriff's turn to make a funny noise.

"Charlotte?" he demanded. She rolled her eyes in reply. "Is that really you?"

"I should hope that it's not anyone else," Charlotte muttered, making the Sheriff chuckle. "Last time I checked, I was me."

"Why are you here?"

"Well, actually…."

"Well actually I don't really care," the Sheriff interrupted, coming back to his senses. A sly grin spread across his face. "But go on, if you must."

"I can't sleep," Charlotte said, sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed.

"So you decided to interrupt mine?"

"You weren't really asleep."

"So what if I wasn't?"

"Anyway…" Charlotte said, moving into a lying position beside him. "I actually wanted to ask you a question." At this, the Sheriff laughed.

"Ask away! Just nothing about money." There was an awkward silence.

"Why did you kiss me?" Charlotte blurted out suddenly, then turned bright red.

"Because I wanted to," the Sheriff replied, giving Charlotte a cheeky grin. There was another silence, this time broken by the Sheriff. "You don't see anything in Arthur, do you? Anything at all?"

"Oh, he has qualities…" Charlotte said. The Sheriff pulled a disgusted face and she laughed. "Awful qualities!"

Relieved, the Sheriff sighed, "You could do worse."

"Yeah," Charlotte agreed, "if I married you."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a peasant, but point taken." Charlotte thought the Sheriff took the joke quite well, until his features became taut. 'Damn,' Charlotte thought, then stroked his hand, only barely aware of making the gesture.

"Oh dear," Charlotte whispered, pretending to be shocked. "My virtue!"

"What?" the Sheriff asked, his features relaxing again.

"I'm lying with a man," she explained. The Sheriff laughed.

Suddenly the door was flung open and Charlotte jumped to her feet.

"Fire! Fire, my lord!" a guard cried, rushing into the room.

"WHAT?" the Sheriff demanded, rolling out of bed. The guard raised his eyebrows at Charlotte, who smiled innocently at him. "What are you on about?" the Sheriff cried.

"The alchemy room is on fire, my lord!" the guard yelled. The Sheriff rolled his eyes, but mid-roll, something clicked.

"PUT IT OUT!" he bellowed. "YOU BLITHERING IDIOTS! PUT THAT FIRE OUT BEFORE…" but he didn't get any further because Lord Arthur burst into the room.

"MY CREATIONS! MY BOOK! ALL FOR NOTHING!" he sobbed, blindly rushing into the guard. "Everything is ruined!"

Much yelling and sobbing and gnashing of teeth followed that, accompanied by an exchange of rude words and gestures from a fuming Sheriff.

"So what do I do now?" the guard asked Charlotte. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Go and put it out, I suppose."

* * *

Bucket-loads of water later, the alchemy room was a charcoal covered mess. Even the grey stone walls were a nasty shade of black. The Sheriff, on the other hand, was a nasty shade of red.

A distraught Lord Arthur left for his home that morning.