Cecily felt she needed to choose her words carefully while trying to blacken Marian's character, so that she didn't come off as spiteful. "Spiteful Cecily" was a name she'd acquired before her marriage, and though she had never known Robin to use it, she wasn't all that certain he hadn't disapproved of Marian referring to her by that name.
She was travelling alone with Robin on horseback to Stoke-on-Trent, where she would be forced to tell him goodbye. She didn't want to lose him, or at least, lose the possiblity of gaining him as a lover and future husband. She felt desperate, and was ready to employ desperate measures.
Robin was distant, stormy and silent, and deeply disturbed from his recent interview with Marian. Cecily, weary from riding such a long distance, pulled him from his thoughts with a request to stop and rest again.
Ever the gentleman, Robin reined his horse, dismounted, then lifted Cecily down from her palfrey. Once on her feet, she leaned her body softly against his, feeling him stiffen just before he took a step back.
"When will we sleep?" Cecily asked him, truly exhausted from having travelled most of the night.
"Now might be a good time," Robin decided, springing into action.
Cecily sank gracefully onto the grass, and sat watching Robin remove the horse's saddles and lead the animals to the river to drink. He shared such an affinity with the beasts! Dropping her head to hide her expression, Cecily smirked, thinking how similar the beasts were to Robin's "gang" of outlaws. Except, of course, the animals didn't blather endlessly on and on about nothing, the way that dimwitted servant did. Nor were they constantly affronting her ears with indecent jests, as that vile Allan had. Cecily was so relieved to be away from those ruffians at last. She prayed she would never have to see any of them, ever again.
At last, Robin rejoined her, handing her some cheese and bread, as well as his flask.
"Thank you," Cecily said. "Please sit, Robin." She took a dainty sip of water, and handed back his flask.
He would have preferred standing, after riding in the saddle for so long. But he sat crosslegged on the grass beside her.
"Cheers," he said, before taking a long draught of water. He was tired and hungry as well, and impatient from having to journey so slowly. But he hid his annoyance under his exquisite manners.
Dawn had not yet broken, though it was fast approaching, and they had not travelled nearly as far as Robin had expected. Cecily rode the same way she did everything else, beautifully and gracefully, but heaven forbid if her horse should break into a gallop, so that the wind might muss her hair. Miles back, Robin realized he had to resign himself to a long journey.
"Have you eaten enough?" he asked politely. "If you're still hungry, I can always shoot something."
"No. I don't require much to eat."
There was an awkward pause, while Cecily tried to think of a way to bring up the subject of Marian and Roger of Stoke.
"I am looking forward to seeing Margery again," Cecily began. "There's a chance you'll get to see Roger. I believe he hasn't yet rejoined the King, since he's had to manage all the tedious affairs of his family's estate. Imagine their father leaving him such a mess to sort out!"
"Is there trouble?" Robin asked.
"Debts, so I've heard. Mountains of debt."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't know."
Cecily paused, then plunged ahead with her story. Lowering her voice, although there was no one nearby to eavesdrop, she continued, "They say that's the reason Marian backed out of their betrothal. She wanted a wealthier prospect."
Robin glared at her, so fiercely that Cecily grew frightened. "Never say anything about Marian to me, unless you'd be willing to say it straight to her face. Do you understand me?"
Cecily gulped. "Yes, Robin. Please, don't be angry. I was only mentioning what everybody knows."
It was a lie, of course, though Robin had no way of knowing it. Roger had inherited his father's debts, and he was home sorting them out, but they had nothing to do with him not marrying Marian. His courtship with Marian had not reached the betrothal stage, since Roger became convinced she would always be in love with Robin.
Cecily thought it wise to refrain from discussing Marian, just now. Perhaps, after Robin calmed down, she could try again.
He looked so alluring, sitting so close to her on the grass. He was such a speciman, so naturally masculine, yet beautiful, too. He had always been unattainable, but Cecily was spoiled, and used to getting what she wanted.
They were alone. She was desperate. And she had very few qualms about giving herself to him outside of marriage. Since she was a widow and no longer a maiden, what did her virtue matter?
This forest glade was nowhere like the sumptuous bedchamber she often imagined, in her dreams of seduction. And in those dreams, Robin had been the seducer, not she. But life rarely lived up to dreams, so this place would have to suffice. If she could only win him, they would find themselves in that sumptuous chamber, sooner rather than later.