Scarlet Page 35


“You don’t have to. Like I said, go to the gate. The sheriff will let you call on her. Your father knows already.”

He looked to John, and then he lurched forward. John pulled me out of his way and let him go to the gate. He pounded the gate and the small door opened. He spoke to the guard, and his body lost its anger. The gate were opened and he were let in.

“You weren’t lying,” John said soft.

I turned to walk away.

“Scarlet, where are you going?”

“He’s with her now. I can go.”

He grabbed my arm with a smile. “You’re coming with me, love. I never buy your tough act. Where would you even go?”

“Wherever I damn well please, John Little.” I needed cold and quiet—and some good darkness. My head were full of Joanna and London and even a touch of Gisbourne, and it felt overfull.

He pulled me against him. “Don’t go, Scar,” he said in that voice he used with Bess. “Come back with me. Much is frantic as to where you might’ve gone.”

I didn’t know if he were or Robin were, but I were fair certain that John didn’t care if Much were worried for me. “He’ll last a day or two longer.”

He nudged his nose against the side of my face, and I pulled away from it a hair. His hand came along my cheek and it tugged my face over to his. “Maybe, but I won’t.”

His lips pressed against mine, strong like the rest of him and a little wet, pushing my lips into a fair good kiss. He caught me up ’bout the waist and kissed me deeper. I shut my eyes, and Rob’s face popped into my head.

I pulled my head away, flushed and not sure what to do, or say, or think.

His nose rubbed mine. “Scarlet.”

It tickled and I sniffed. “What were that for?”

He tilted his head a bit. “You.”

“Why you kissing me?”

“’Cause I like you, Scar.”

I shook my head. “You like every girl, John.” I smiled a little. Something ’bout a kiss makes you feel silly, and a kiss from John somehow felt more silly than most. “I’ll be back in a day or two.”

His arms went looser. “What does that mean?”

I pulled away from him. “I’ll let you know. If you go to the tunnel, there’s a fair bit of loot.” I walked a few paces and stopped, looking back. “And thanks, you know, for the kiss.”

He just stared so I kept walking. Might as well be polite.

Chapter Nine

I didn’t get far. I went east through Sherwood to Worksop and stayed there during the day, helping Much’s father and checking on Freddy Cooper. He stayed when the rest of his family went on to Dover, making what wages he could till they were settled. The miller were at the grinding part of the harvest, and he always needed extra help, and Freddy were taking to it like a duck in water. Much’s father didn’t talk a lot. Freddy talked enough for the two of us, and that were a whole different kind of silence that my mind knocked around in. When night fell, Freddy and Much’s father wheedled and begged till I stayed for supper, and they set up a bed for me to sleep in. I nodded, because it were easier, and then when they went off, I left the house.

I liked wandering the night. The animals were different. They talked to each other in soft twitters, little whistles, hoots, and such. They had a nighttime way of talking.

There were an inn at the edge of the village that I liked. The innkeep were a woman, which were fair unusual. It used to be her husband’s, but he keeled over and she took it on. She were always good to me. Sometimes girls had troubles that boys weren’t meant to know nothing ’bout, and she helped me out once or twice.

I went in and she nodded to me. I slid into a table in the back. She sent over an ale and I nodded to her again, settling into the corner to watch and listen. There were a few travelers eating their supper, but most were locals sitting for a drink. I recognized many of the men, most farmers and craftsmen, and a few farmhands.

“Lena!” bellowed a gruff voice. Three of the sheriff’s personal men walked in, dressed all in the sheriff’s black and silver, like death and metal. I looked to Lena; she were smiling, but it weren’t one of her big wide smiles that I got. She sent one of her girls to get some drinks and ushered the men to a table. They sat and took the drinks, and the ringleader grabbed Lena’s wrist and dragged so she leaned hard over his shoulder. “You know that’s not why we’re here, Lena.”

She shot a look to her muscle, a hulk of a lug everyone called Pea, but he were already on his way. He stood over the men and the ringleader let Lena’s wrist go. “I don’t have the money. I’ll have it next week.”

“Sheriff doesn’t believe you. Sheriff thinks you’re holding out.”

She flushed. “Well, what does he expect me to do? I don’t have any money. I can have it next week.”

“Lena, the sheriff gave you meat for your customers when you needed it. He expects his investment returned.”

She crossed her arms. “If I had known his ‘gift’ came with such a price, I wouldn’t have taken it. You’ll get your money when I have it.”

“Sheriff’s cracking his whip, Lena.” His fellow took the candle from the middle of the table and held it underneath the wood table. The other two men grabbed Lena and Pea as she screamed at them.

I whipped a knife at the candle, pushing it from his hand. The flame doused before it hit the ground, and the table were black but not burning. The ringleader whipped his head round to see who did it. “Someone bein’ a hero, then, eh?” he asked, drawing a knife and turning toward Lena. She screamed again, and as I drew another knife, a customer tackled the guard. The place split open into a brawl.

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