"To Be Worthy" (Guy/Marian- Historical Romance- PG 13): Chapter 2
SUMMARY: Betrayed by his latest master and mocked by the cruel hand of destiny, Sir Guy of Gisborne returns to Nottingham twenty years after his banishment determined to reclaim the life which should have been his.
AUTHOR: Lexie aka lillianschild
RATING: PG-13/R (probably in later chapters)
FANDOM: Robin Hood
PAIRING: Guy/Marian
GENRE: Romance
Disclaimer: Tiger Aspect Productions and the BBC are free to claim whatever they own of this piece, except Guy's thoughts and my words which are ours to keep. lol.
A/N: Set in an alternate Series 1 where Guy has never met Vasey before his arrival in Nottingham, this fic will explore what impact an earlier acquaintance with Marian might have had on Guy's life and ultimate fate.
READ THE BEGINNING HERE
Chapter 2
Avoiding Winchester after dinner, Marian devoted herself to getting a chamber ready for Lord Vasey and, once she got word Sir Edward had left the hall, climbed up to her father's room to help the Lord of Knighton to bed.
“I'm sorry to be such a burden to you both,” he mumbled as his daughter tucked him in. “Sometimes I think you'd be better off if I were no more.”
“Please, don't say that, Father. The people of Nottingham need you. Meg and I need you, too. Things will look better in the morning. You'll see,” she comforted him, squeezing his hand. “Now... what are you going to wear for the tournament tomorrow? Maybe the tunic that we gave you for Christmas... It'd match perfectly with the cloak King Richard sent you as a present for your services to the Crown.”
“You pick what you think best, dear.”
It was hard to keep a cheerful countenance when she saw her dad so listless. There was so little left of the invincible man who used to love carrying her on his shoulders as a girl and dote on her as if he'd have the male heir he'd been denied. Long before her first love, he'd been the only man in her universe, the one who'd taught her how to fight, ride and knock an arrow despite her mother's constant nagging. It was so heartbreaking seeing him deteriorate in front of her eyes; not even being virtually jilted at the altar by Robin, whom everybody'd expected her to end up with since her childhood, had hurt so much.
“Father, I know you'd rather stay in your quarters tomorrow... but you're aware that Prince John has eyes and ears everywhere. He's counting on any sign of weakness from his brother's allies to realise his ambitions. Don't let him have his way. The last thing that Nottingham needs is for one of his cronies to take your place. You know as well as I do he has no love for King Richard, and I'm afraid we three won't be the only ones to pay the consequences; it's the populace who always does.”
“My lovely and wilful daughter... you make me so proud. Promise me you'll be careful, Marian...”
“Father...”
“God only knows when the king'll come home, and I'm not sure I'll live long enough to protect you if John manages to get the support he needs to seize the throne. Sometimes I wish I'd paid heed to your mother's warnings. You'd be married by now and I'd be able to die in peace knowing you were safe.”
“I can take care of myself and Meg. I don't need.....”
“Stubborn as my Kate,” he chuckled.”That foolish boy was never the one. I knew from the very first day I clasped eyes on him he was too full of himself to ever put his hunger for praise and glory aside for any woman. As much as it hurt to see you suffer back then, I'm glad you were spared the bitterness of a marriage to a man who'd have never put you first. I wish for you what I had with your mother...”
Marian felt her eyes well up with tears. She'd once had that very dream, but she loved her father too much to tell him he'd made its realisation impossible. And, unless a miracle came her way, duty was the only path open before her. Unbearable as the thought was, she'd be Lady Winchester before the summer was out.
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Having ascertained her father was resting safely in the arms of Morpheus, Marian pressed a soft kiss on his forehead and slipped out of his chamber.
The muffled sounds of laughter told her she should stay away from the hall for there were still those who hadn't retired to bed, and Winchester might be amongst them. Making her way along a side corridor she walked in the direction of the stables to see to her favourite mare, which was still heavy with its unborn offspring.
It had been a trying day in more ways than one, and she longed for the quietude of her room, where she could rest her weary bones and wake up refreshed to face the busy hours ahead. As she crossed the rose garden, which had been Lady Kate's pride and joy, she removed the bejewelled pin that held her hair up. Massaging her scalp and neck to relieve the kinks which had built up as a result of her stressful day she let her auburn tresses tumble down.
“Milady?”
She blanched at the unexpected sound of a deep chocolatey voice, wondering who had witnessed her unladylike behaviour. Whoever it was would get a surprise if he so much as made a move mistaking her for one of those young women of noble blood who, either single or married, offered themselves for free in the shadows while pretending to be pious in the light.
“Milady, I don't wish to cause you any harm,” said the male voice with a distinctly northern accent.
“If you have nothing to hide, then step forward and let me see your face,” she commanded with a tone of confidence which belied the confusing flutter in her chest. There was something about that voice that made her skin tingle and did odd things to her stomach. She'd experienced that very same electrifying spark earlier that night, and her heart knew even before he materialised in front of her that the man in the shadows was the handsome stranger from the hall.
“Excuse my presumptuousness, milady. I only wanted to thank you for a warm meal and your generous hospitality,” he replied, coming closer with a gracefulness that reminded her of the stealth shown by felines when circling a prey.
Looking at him from across a room had stirred her in some unfathomable way, but standing in the moonlight just an armful away from the mysterious knight with raven hair and piercing blue-grey eyes robbed her of every sensible thought. His face was all angles and his nose would have been considered disproportionately large in any other man, and yet she'd never met any specimen of the opposite sex in her twenty-one years who looked more devastatingly handsome or more mesmerizing even in stillness.
Marian knew she had to say something fast before being caught staring like a besotted fool. She was the lady of the castle and as such was expected to show decorum and impeccable manners.
“You're one of the Sheriff's guests for the length of the tournament, I did no more than what's expected of me as chatelaine.”
“Be that as it may, I'm grateful for your solicitousness. I've been around a while and have learnt never to take a thoughtful gesture for granted. I've grown used to sleeping under the stars and partaking of a simple meal with my mount..... It comes with the territory.”
“Well, I'm glad then you're sleeping in a proper bed tonight with a fire to keep you warm.”
He smiled and a sudden warmth, unfamiliar and yet strangely welcome, suffused her.
Guy thought Sir Edward's only daughter was even lovelier illuminated by the moonlight. The alabaster of her skin turned a delightful red when he made his presence known, driven from the dark refuge of the shadows by her siren call. The temptation to be closer to her orbit, enveloped in the delicate chamomile-scented aura of her feminine form was too hard to resist.
He knew it wasn't wise, that he was breaking several basic propriety rules and that he might be compromising her virtue and good name by addressing her a few simple words when she was unchaperoned, but the very fact nobody was there to witness the exchange had emboldened him. Although he might be denied the blessing of the love of a woman such as her, he would at least treasure the memory of a chaste encounter with only the moonlight for company.
As intoxicating as being in the close proximity of the mysterious knight was, Marian knew she wasn't supposed to be alone with him. She wondered if God had decided to put temptation on her way to test her, aware as He must be of her tendency to rebel against the rules in her eagerness to assert the independence men had denied her sex.
“Please, wait” he beseeched her. “I'm trying to avoid someone... a woman who waited on the young knights' table tonight. I don't know her name, but she seems to be persistent,” he said with a hint of awkwardness in his demeanour that she found confusing in a man whose devastatingly handsome presence was the epitome of dangerous masculinity.
A sudden twinge of envy seized her and, forgetting she was meant to be the demure Sheriff of Nottingham's daughter, she blurted out: “Won't she be heartbroken to discover you're hiding from her?”
“I don't think so. There are younger and more accommodating fish in the pond.”
She frowned. “You speak of yourself as if you were too old.”
“Age is more than the sum total of one's years. I think you know that better than anyone, Lady Marian.”
She did. There were days when she felt a lot older than her twenty-first springs.
She wondered what he'd have done if she were the one pursuing him. Would he have hidden as well? Once again a peculiar warmth coursed through her body as if his strong arms were holding her and his long fingers were brushing her skin and raising goose pimples on their journey… . Her lips tingled and parted in anticipation of his passionate though imaginary kiss….
What was it about this man that made her forget who she was and feel things without even touching her she'd never experienced in the arms of her former betrothed?
There was a speculative gleam in his eyes that heightened the red in her cheeks. Could it be he'd recognised the telltale signs of her body showing how he was affecting her? She was a lady and a maid; she should be angry, not…curious.
The voice of her conscience told her to leave.
“Good evening, Sir…?”
“Sir Guy of Gisborne.”
“Good luck tomorrow, Sir Guy.” she wished him, turning to leave.
“Haven't you ever heard my name?”
“Should I have?” she asked, her curiosity revived.
“If you haven't, you will soon enough. Although I'm afraid it won't be the whole truth.” he replied, an indefinable emotion clouding his eyes.
“I consider myself a good judge of character and not given to sentence any man without first-hand proof of his guilt. Let him who is without sin cast the first stone. Isn't that what Our Lord's taught us?”
His deep voice softened. “Not everyone has such a charitable heart as yours, milady.”
Marian had always loved riddles and her curiosity was certainly piqued. But there was more than that; she felt as if she'd been suddenly awoken from a lethargic spell, as if she were really alive for the first time.
Who was this man, this knight whose proud presence made her forget the world didn't regard their stations as equal? Sir Guy of Gisborne was unquestionably more attractive to her than Winchester, but his good looks weren't proof of his being a better person. Perhaps he was just better at pretending.
Robin used to say her sympathetic heart would be her doom one day. “We're all sinners, Sir Guy. Not even I am worthy of being put on a pedestal. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have many things to see to. ”
“Of course,” he inclined his head. “It must be a heavy burden for one so young.”
The tone of concern in his voice threatened to weaken her resolve, but the suspicion that he might have the same designs as Winchester strengthened her. “We all have burdens to bear. God tests us all.”
“In more ways than one,” he agreed, suggesting he'd experienced the heavy burden of duty and responsibility in the flesh. Maybe they weren't so different after all.
“Have you been tested?”
Guy looked at the pure white of a single rose in the garden, surrounded by the deep crimson of its thorny counterparts, and felt a tightening in his chest. He wished he could open up, share with her the life-long burden which had threatened to crush him at times. But his time of trial was far from over, and he had no right to taint a soul of which she wished he could be deserving.
The fleeting pain she saw reflected in his countenance roused her sympathy and, although she knew instinctively he wouldn't accept her pity, she couldn't help but voice her feelings.“I'm sorry....” she murmured, unable to rid herself of that deep sense of connection she'd experienced from the very first moment.
“Good night, my lady,” he bid her, taking her hand in his and brushing his warm lips softly over the rise of her knuckles.
An electric current ran up her arm and warmth radiated to her breast, her face and that hidden uncharted place, which had unexpectedly become more than the living proof of her maidenly condition.
The mere feather-like touch of his lips had left her overwhelmed, warm all over and strangely dissatisfied. She wondered what it'd feel like to be actually kissed by those lips on the mouth... or to have them trace her feminine curves.
The unmaidenly thought, brought on by the blue-grey-eyed stranger with a shy smile, a virile body and a deep, chocolatey voice, turned Marian into a mass of confusion. Never before had risk and danger looked more appealing nor had she ever felt more envious of that maidservant whose station in life didn't shackle her with the chains of duty and honour.
At that moment she feared Sir Guy more than she'd ever feared Lord Winchester. And so she turned and fled.
GO TO CHAPTER 3