Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood, nor do I profit from this writing.
Chapter 3: Awkward Evening
With strict orders from Mrs. Griswald, the head housekeeper, Eleanor was sent into the square to finish getting enough supplies. "I liked the other dress better, I think," a voice said.
She turned to see Allan leaning against a post next to her. "How did you… I'm sure I don't want to know."
"They let you out of the castle with money?" Allan asked surprised.
She snorted. "Of course not," she said. "You haven't met Mrs. Griswald. She knows every coffer under her control and never lets another see it. I am just making arrangements with the vendors," she explained. "And you? What are you selling today?" she raised an eyebrow. "Secrets? Perhaps about a certain strong room?" she had overheard rumors and whispers.
He frowned. "Hey, you know it wasn't like that," Allan tried to defend himself. She waited for a long winded explanation, fancy language, fast double talk to make him seem like the victim.
But he said nothing.
"Have you thought about not selling anything to Guy?" she offered as she finished a transaction with a linen merchant and found Allan waiting for her.
"Course I have," Allan said. "The truth is, though, I make more with Guy than I do with Robin."
"So it is all about the money?"
"Course not," he said. She raised an eyebrow as she went to speak with the man who handled their wine orders.
She was surprised Allan was still waiting for her. "What do you want from me?" she finally asked. He grinned. "No, you might as well stop thinking that right now," she warned.
"Come on, I wasn't going to say that," he grinned saucily. "Truth is, you are the only one who knows."
She nodded. She guessed as much. "I'm not going to be used, Allan-a-Dale," she warned as she walked back up to the castle.
"I never said that, either, Eleanor," he called after her. He pulled his hood up to cover his grin as she spun around in shock. She had never told him her name, purposely wanting to avoid anything personal between them.
It didn't change the fact that she thought and wondered about him. At night the image of him in the dungeon would creep up on her, replacing other, older nightmares. Now you know he is physically fine, you can stop thinking about him, she told herself. Men are all the same, and you can't trust any of them she reminded herself.
She wondered why she had to even remind herself of it; she had never met a man that made her question what she thought she knew. He is a thief and a traitor, he doesn't deserve to be thought about, she reminded herself. Just think about work, lord knows you have enough of it.
Everything arrived that evening and Mrs. Griswald was acting in full form as the tyrant all the servants knew her to be. "The Count arrives tomorrow," she kept telling people as she would march to and fro, her verbal discipline enhanced with her physical discipline. The servants, such as Eleanor and Gretchen, knew times like this was when a servant was most likely to be severely punished or let go. And most, like Eleanor, had nowhere else to go, so they had no choice but to accept the whims of Griswald and the Sheriff.
"Isn't Sarah the lucky one," another whispered to Gretchen. They worked till nearly dawn when they were allowed a few hours sleep and then everyone was back up working on all the last minute details—which included the sheriff's bath.
"I will never complain again," Gretchen said in relief when someone else was chosen to assist the sheriff with his bath. "I would just … keel over from horror, I am sure," she said making Eleanor snicker as they finished laying out the wood in the fireplaces. The sound of the coach's arrival made all the servants go into a flurry as they finished everything. Gretchen and Eleanor had just lit the fires to chase out the draft and laid out fresh water for him to freshen up when they heard boots storming down the hall and a foreign voice. They took their leave before he would notice them.
"We are going to be late!" Gretchen complained as they quickly changed into their new clothes for the gaming rooms. Half a dozen women, including Gretchen and Eleanor, were made up and curled their hair with hot irons. They were escorted to the gaming room by one of the guards who spent more time looking at their breasts than anything else.
"Keep the count's men entertained," Guy ordered before leaving to see what the Sheriff needed of him. A quick look about the room revealed that the count, Marion, the Sheriff, and Guy were all absent, only the count's entourage were present plus some local nobles.
A quick glance between Gretchen and Eleanor showed that they were both disgusted by the time the evening meal was prepared. While the nobles ate the girls cleaned and reset the games for the evening when Count Friedrich would be joining them. "From everything I've heard, it seems Marion has quite warmed up to him," one of the girls whispered.
"I'd bet Sir Guy isn't too happy 'bout that," another said making several snicker.
Soon Marion and the Count arrived acting extremely friendly, followed by Sir Guy acting even more surly than normal. This caused several raised eyebrows amongst the servants who were working. The excitement started when the count started to win.
Eleanor grabbed a fresh pitcher of wine to keep everyone's cup full when she noticed a woman also grab another pitcher of wine and head towards the table the count was playing at. It wouldn't have been anything unusual… except the woman had never worked in the castle before and looked different in dress and skin tone than all the other women working.
Puzzled, Eleanor sidestepped yet another man who was down in his cups and trying to touch and grab. She had to work hard to ensure that she didn't react by freezing or punching anyone.
She felt numb as she fought of the advances she had no control over. She heard it go completely silent as everyone turned to watch the sheriff and the count.
Gretchen looked over to her friend and wanted to help somehow. The only thing she could do, however, was hope that the evening would end quickly. With this last big bet the sheriff just agreed to, she hoped that it would be over soon. Then they only had to worry about cleaning up and helping the stragglers find their beds to collapse on for the rest of the night.
"Perhaps a fresh set of dice for such a momentous roll?" the sheriff proposed.
A heartbeat of silence was followed with the count's self-assured, "Ja." The room broke into applause as the count's chest of money was placed for all to see. For some reason Eleanor's attention was drawn to Marion and the new servant girl. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something to the girl, especially since they had not hired any new girls.
She decided to keep an eye on her.
Groans and cheers erupted as the count lost and the guards took his money. "More wine," a drunken man slurred. She scurried to pour it for him and get out of reach before he decided he wanted something more than liquor.
When everyone finally had left and the chores were finished the servants finally began to head to their own beds. Eleanor slipped around the side of the castle to get a breath of fresh air for a moment after the hectic and overcrowded gaming room.
"It looks like we both had a busy night," that voice said from behind her.
Sure enough, she turned to find Allan leaning against the wall. "Shouldn't you be long gone by now? Or does your deal with Guy include protection?" she wondered.
"It's a crime to come see you?"
She raised an eyebrow. She couldn't figure out why he wanted to. And to infuriate her more, he smirked at seeing her confusion.
He couldn't help but smile; she was a puzzle to him and he enjoyed trying to figure her out. "You don't like me very much, do you?" he asked finally.
A faint smile tinted her lips. "Now who is putting words into whose mouth?" she smirked.
That gave him hope. He didn't know what for, but he was glad to hear those words. "Do you know what you look like in that dress?" he asked. He remembered seeing Djaq dressed up for her masquerade but, in comparison, Eleanor's dress was more for a tavern girl than Djaq's had been.
"Please, Allan. I know exactly what I look like, and the guards won't forget it either," she said. The thought of the guards being around her, and what they were certainly thinking, made his blood boil although he couldn't explain why.
He reached out to touch her—something he had been thinking about, if he admitted it, ever since he left the dungeon; He kept thinking about her gentle touch, it haunted him; it was the first act of genuine kindness he could recall. He reached out now to reassure both of them. "You know if anyone gives you any trouble…" he didn't finish. He saw her tense as he reached out. She became stiff as a board and jumped back from him. "Eleanor?"
"Good night, Allan," she said and rushed back inside the castle. He looked on, perplexed, and wondered what he had done.
Idiot! She chastised herself. Breath… you are away from that now she reminded herself.
"Eleanor?" Gretchen asked when she found her trying to blend into the stone wall. She led her back to their room "You didn't come to bed, I was worried." She grabbed a comb and started to brush Eleanor's hair. She hadn't seen that look in Eleanor's eyes for a long time. "Tonight?"
"I am an idiot," she said resting her head on her hand. "I went out just to catch my breath, and Allan had somehow creeped back inside," she began.
"Brave of him," Gretchen said to keep her talking.
"I suppose… until he said—never mind, that doesn't matter. It's my reaction that I am horrified over," she confessed.
"What happened?" Gretchen asked concerned.
"He reached out for me and I… I just froze," Eleanor finally admitted. "I know he was just being friendly, but my instincts took over and I cowered away from him."
Gretchen saw red. She hated Eleanor being reminded of before. "I always told you that you needed to get angry and fight back," she fumed.
"I couldn't," Eleanor said, feeling even more pathetic than she sounded. "What must I have looked liked to him?"
"I wasn't aware we were concerned with how he thought of you," Gretchen said as she braided her friend's hair.
"I wasn't either," Eleanor finally said. "Why do I even care?"
"Don't think about it," Gretchen advised. "Perhaps Allan will forget all of this by tomorrow. And if he doesn't, and you run across him again, just act as if it was nothing more than just exhaustion controlling your emotions."
"If we cross paths again," Eleanor agreed as she took her half of the bed and turned to look out the window at the stars. They always managed to grant her peace.
Gretchen noticed Eleanor's tone seemed doubtful. Personally, Gretchen would bet her week's wages that Allan would make another appearance, and soon.
Author's begging: please review! Even if its just good chapter/update soon!
HUGE thanks to Scarlett princess for reviewing last chapter! Yes, Eleanor starts to be more involved; I have found ways of fitting her in, especially after Allan works for Guy.
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