"When you look at me like that, I really believe you can see all the way into my soul."
Hating himself for saying the words, Robin nonetheless watched their effect on Lady Cecily.
Her knees seemed to buckle, and she semi collapsed against him, all the while lifting her face toward his, like a flower reaching for the sun.
The usual effect. That is, except when he'd uttered those words to the one person who really could see into his soul. The only person who ever mattered.
Feeling absolutely no satisfaction or enjoyment, Robin gathered Cecily in his arms and kissed her again.
...
Now that Cecily believed Robin was hers, her "high and mightiness" toward the other outlaws knew no bounds. She was careful not to lord herself over them openly by issuing commands and thereby angering their leader, but her scorn for them was even more obvious than it had been before Robin had kissed her.
Her wish was to continue to win Locksley's heart, and convince him to move away with her to another shire, or better still to the Court of Aquitaine, where she knew for certain they would be welcomed by Queen Eleanor with open arms. What a life of luxury they could enjoy there until King Richard returned to England!
Sitting beside Robin around the fire that night, she chased the other outlaws away with a regal glare that warned them to keep their distance. The idiot servant was busy cleaning up, or he probably would have been so dense, he wouldn't have taken her warning, and probably would have joined them! Luckily, he was very busy working.
Robin was silent and withdrawn, not at all his usual charming self. Mostly, he stared into the fire, his eyes hard and unblinking. Cecily knew he wasn't at his best, yet her joy in his company still glowed brightly. She guessed he was bothered because night was upon them, and he wanted more from her than kisses, but wouldn't pursue it, cherishing his honor as he did.
If he pursued her, she knew she would yield. But he didn't, and she was too much of a lady to pursue him. His kisses would have to content her, for now, at least. Besides, she didn't want to enjoy him on the ground in the forest, like some wild animal. She anticipated their union in a luxurious bedchamber, hung with trapestries and furnished with intricately carved accouterments. A setting worthy of their love and station.
She broached the subject of relocating to Aquitaine. "Robin, have you ever considered leaving here?"
"Leaving? I can't desert my people."
His people. Peasants. How could he care so greatly for peasants?
"But you're in danger here! There's a price on your head! You face death every day."
"Haven't you heard? According to Much, I court danger."
She didn't like the grimness on his face. Why didn't he smile?
"Just imagine how divine your life would be at Queen Eleanor's Court! She adores you like a son! I've heard her court is beautiful, with fountains that flow with wine on special occasions, and there's said to be an entire room filled with books!"
"I've seen it." Robin remembered that library, and the beauty who had seduced him there. He grew unhappier still.
Here he was, home again. Marian was unmarried, yet they were not together! What was he doing, leading Cecily on, when he felt absolutely no love for her? He refused to continue this masquerade.
"Cecily," he began.
"Sess."
He sighed. "Sess. I owe you an apology for what happened today."
She stopped him. She refused to listen, or even let him say the words.
He was tired. That was all. Still, she knew the best course would be to belittle what had happened between them, so that it could continue, and bloom.
"You owe me no apology. We kissed. That's all. A little more than an embrace; a great deal less than a betrothal. We both enjoyed it, I believe. Robin, I am no blushing maiden. I was married for two years. Even if my husband was a gasping old man, he was still a man. Do not make a few kisses into something more than what they were."
"So we're alright?" he asked, relieved by her reasonableness. "I still should not have kissed you."
"Now you offend me," she said, in a light flirtatious tone. "You are being very unchivalrous."
Her pretended lightheartedness managed to somewhat restore his good humor. He smiled, not with his usual burst of sunshine, but a slight, guarded smile. Yet it was a smile all the same, and Cecily was glad to see it.
"I believe you are tired, as am I," she told him kindly. "Would you please sleep near me, at a proper distance, of course? I find myself terrified of these woods, especially at night."
"You're perfectly safe here, I assure you. My men and I will protect you with our lives."
She couldn't hide the scorn on her face as she surveyed the other outlaws, and the whore. She shuddered, but had the presence of mind to pretend she only shivered from the chill in the air.
...
Cecily had difficulty sleeping. It was so ghastly, sleeping outdoors, surrounded by ruffians. She filled her thoughts with images of herself, dwelling in luxury with Robin of Locksley, in the Court of Aquitaine.
Her dreams were interrupted by Robin crying out, aloud in his sleep.
"Marian!"
Marian. Still! So! Cecily would have to work harder than she thought.
"Get used to it," the voice of the hated Saracen boy sneered at her. "We are. Our leader is plagued by dreams. It is either 'Marian,' or tortured memories of war."
Cecily rolled over, away from the filthy Saracen's dark eyes. Then, she quickly rolled back around, frightened to leave her back exposed to the heathen.
It wasn't until dawn that she finally dropped off to sleep. She didn't see Allan slip a snake into her boot.