Does this explain Guy's anger management problems? Guilt's a terrible thing...
Chapter 5
Guy
It seemed I wasn't the only one who'd changed. Lizzie had grown up considerably since I'd left her with Earl what's-his-name, she was a woman now and a fairly formidable one. We rode to the castle in silence but I could feel her burning a hole in my back with her eyes as she'd always been to do and shifted uncomfortably the whole way there. When we arrived at the castle after what seemed an age she slipped off the horse and stood with her arms crossed waiting for me to speak, which reluctantly I did.
"So? What? I rescued you, with money out of my own pocket might I add. No need to thank me."
"Good. Because that's not something I'm going to do. Where am I staying?"
"Staying? Back home with your husband I'd imagine, certainly not here."
"Guy you can't send me back to that man. I simply will not go. You cannot imagine the harm you've done by selling -" I flinched at the word "-me to him. I refuse to go back and the least you can do is offer me shelter and a chance to explain." I looked at her and noticed the tears in her eyes and her resolute stance,
"Come on then, in here." I led her into the castle and up to my room where she sat on my window seat and looked around.
"Is this your room, Guy?" She asked "Everything's so...black." I shrugged, black was the color most befitting of my mood nowadays so it was what I went with.
"Why did you do it, Guy?" She whispered, staring at me intently "Why did you let him buy me, why – just, please, why?" I turned my back to her and ran my hands through my hair, I hadn't thought about her in years, had pushed what I'd done out of my head.
"It was necessary!" I turned around and moved so that my face was inches away from hers, "Father died, we had nothing, our name meant nothing and we didn't have a penny between us. He took a liking to you and offered a good sum so I took it. He was rich and seemed nice enough, I thought you'd have a good life; better than what I could give you. So I came here and made my way to the top, I work for the sheriff now."
"And you didn't think there was any need to worry? Even when my letters arrived full of pleas and tear stains? For goodness' sake how much motivation do you need? Not one word, Guy?"
I stared at her, "Letters? Liz I never got any letters? Granted I should have visited but -"
"What you should have done is found out about the bloody man you sold your sister to! Letters or no letters what kind of man sells his little sister to the highest bidder and never looks back?"
"No man," I answered quietly "A boy. I was young, Lizzie. 18, I was barely able to look after myself let alone you."
"Yes. I was young as well. 14 in fact."
"Girls marry younger, and to worse people."
"No. No-one is worse than him." A tear escaped her and made it's way down her cheek, etching a line like a scar through the dirt she'd accumulated in the forest. I moved to comfort her but she pushed me away and buried her head in her arms, rasping out she needed some time alone. I left with hurried instructions as to where she could bathe and shut the door behind me. I stood there for a while listening to her sob and hating myself then quietly walked away, I needed space to think.
Lizzie
Are you just going to cry? Are you going to sit here and blubber like a baby? The tears took no notice and followed their familiar route down my cheeks, I sighed in frustration and got to my feet. The letters...I had written letters by the thousand and sent them to Guy through any means possible, he must have stopped them somehow...of course he wouldn't want Guy seeing through his perfect facade. In the beginning I missed him so much I used to imagine what he'd say if he were here, how he'd laughingly threaten to push me in the river if I didn't stop crying, then over the years my longing for my elder brother turned to bitterness as my letters went without response. I was so sure he'd come and get me, every hoof-beat heard outside made my heart jump, certain it was him I would rush to the window only to find some rider on their way to somewhere else. Once I turned around to find my husband standing, watching me with a smile on his handsome face and something I didn't understand in his cold, blue eyes. I'd skirted round him at the time, feeling his eyes boring into my back as I walked down the corridor away from him and having to exert every effort to stop myself from running. His mere presence disturbed me after a while. Had he read my letters? Read the accounts of his evil and my hatred and fear of him? My pathetic entreaties for rescue?
I bet he laughed.
Suddenly I couldn't stand it, I seized a jug from Guy's mantle and threw it with all my might onto the stone floor, screaming as I hitched up my skirt and attacked it with my booted feet. A noise made me whirl around, breathless, to find Robin watching me open mouthed from the window.
"How...How did -" aware of the direction of his stare I released my skirt and smoothed it with nervous hands.
"What are you doing?" He asked tilting his head and grinning.
"What am I doing? Wh-what are YOU doing? Here? What are you doing here?" I asked stumbling over my words in my discomfort.
"Just checking up on you, Gisbourne's not known for his gentility, shall we say."
"Well I'm fine. Fine! Thank you for your concern but you should go, Guy could be back any minute."
"I'm not stupid -"
"Debatable." He dug his elbow into my ribs and I laughed shakily
"-And you're not fine. Meet me at the tree tomorrow? After everyone's asleep. I have a proposition for you." My eyes widened and I spluttered indignantly, Robin raised his hands
"No, not that kind of proposition. Look, just meet me alright?" I thought for a moment, then gasped as we heard footstep coming down the corridor,
"Alright!" I whispered "Now go – quickly!" Robin gave me a quick salute and swung himself out of the window, shimmying down a rope that had materialized somehow. Shaking my head I composed myself, lay on my side on the window seat and pretended to be asleep for all I was worth, very conscious of the jug lying in shards on the floor.