House Of Gisborne: The Secret Of Gisborne Part 11

Gisborne emerged from the castle with his iron grip wrapped around the bicep of one of the villagers. Marian gasped, recognizing him as the father of three small children, the husband of a friend of hers.

Mirabelle! she whispered. Thats Robert! I know his wife!

Well, theres nothing you can do, so just hush up, Mirabelle hissed.

Gisborne jerked the struggling man up the steps. Gisborne himself pushed him into place at the top of the gallows, and a burly man covered Roberts head with a burlap hood.

Lord Blackstock swept into the courtyard in his royal finery. He stood just outside the door with a scroll in his hand.

Robert of Darrowshire, Blackstock called coldly, reading from the scroll. You have been found guilty of theft. The sentence is death by hanging. Do you have any final words?

Robert thrust his head proudly into the air and remained silent.

Then I decree that the punishment be carried out at once! Blackstock shouted. Proceed!

Robert! shrieked a voice from somewhere in the crowd. Her voice cracked with pain and desperation as she called his name again, Robert!

Arms reached out, holding the soon-to-be-widow at bay. She struggled, desperate to reach him for one final goodbye, but the crowd held her fast.

Gisborne stepped back, clasping his hands in front of him and standing stonily as he watched. His face appeared completely devoid of emotion.

The hangman stepped forward, slipping the noose around Roberts neck. He still held his head proudly aloft as the noose was tightened. Marian clenched her hands into fists and scrunched her eyes tightly. The screech of the trapdoor in the floor pierced the air, followed by the sound of the wooden door thumping against the gallows. A sickening crack followed, and then the cry of agony from his wife.

Noooooo! she shrieked shrilly.

Marian could feel her fingernails digging painfully into her palms. Her jaw was clenched to tightly it began to ache. She opened her eyes and watched as Gisborne swept coolly down the steps of the gallows and disappeared into the castle.

Pig, she thought as she glared after him. Inside her head, she spat at him, clawed his wretched eyes out, pushed him into the dirt and kicked him while he was down.

She pushed her way through the crowd and took Roberts wife into her arms. His wife dissolved into sobs, her entire body trembling and her face purple with grief.

Why? she wailed. Why, why, why?

Shh, Marian whispered into her ear. Dont give Blackstock the satisfaction.

The wifes teeth chattered as she sucked in her grief. She sniffled loudly, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her dress, and then she brushed away her tears with her hands. She nodded an acknowledgement, and she pulled herself to her feet, holding onto Marian to steady herself. She thrust her head high into the air, just as her husband had.

Let this be a warning to you all, Blackstock bellowed. Thieves are not tolerated in this kingdom! Good day.

Blackstock cast a glance toward the horizon. The sun was slowly starting to creep upward, turning the sky a rich, deep blue. He swirled around and entered the castle, followed by two guards who closed the doors behind him.

Thank you, Roberts wife whispered to Marian, clutching her hands, her voice hollow and breaking.

Go home, Marian told her. Be with your children. They need you now more than ever.

Marian watched helplessly as Roberts wife, newly widowed, glanced back, watching her husbands limp body being dragged from the gallows. The muscles in her jaw quivered, and her lips scrunched up. Tears welled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks, but she held her head proudly high just as Robert had done. Then she turned and walked away as the crowd began to thin.

Lets get inside, Mirabelle said, coming up behind Marian and laying a hand on her shoulder. Theres work to be done.

Marian nodded. The sooner she was finished, the sooner she could get back to training with Will. She needed something to keep her mind off what shed just seen.

Marian approached Gisbornes door. She said a silent prayer that the room would be unoccupied, and then she knocked gingerly upon it. No answer. She breathed a sigh of relief and opened it.

Immediately she regretted her action. Gisborne stood before her with beads of water trickling down his bare torso, his muscles rippling as he toweled his dark, wet hair. She thought she caught a glimpse of a tattoo of some sort on his right bicep, but he turned quickly and the tattoo was out of sight before it could fully register.

There was a bath drawn by the fireplace, and he wore nothing but a cloth around his waist. She flushed at the sight of his bare body, and her eyes widened involuntarily.

Im sorry! she whispered, quickly turning around and slamming the door behind her.

She leaned back against the door and took a deep breath, willing her rapid heart to calm itself. Never had she seen a man in such a state, and her reaction both surprised and disgusted her. Her mind flashed to that tattoo. Shed barely seen it, but it looked so familiar. Where had she The door opened, and she quickly jumped away from it.

My apologies, Marian, he said behind her. Did you knock?

Yes, my Lord, I did, she answered, refusing to look at him.

I didnt hear you, he said. Give me a moment and I will be out of your way.

Yes, my Lord, she said.

The door closed, and she waited patiently. Soon, he emerged fully clothed, his damp hair hanging in waves around his unshaven face. She gave him a cursory glance and quickly looked down at the floor.

All yours, he said.

Thank you, my Lord, she responded, slipping past him without a second glance.

She set about cleaning the room as quickly as possible. The thought of being in his room made her skin crawl. Hed been so cold, so unfeeling at the hanging. He stood there looking smug and emotionless, and he disappeared after the hanging without so much as a second glance. She was fuming.

She spent the rest of the day deliberately avoiding him. The few times she saw him coming in the hallway, she quickly turned and fled in the other direction, ducking into rooms to put as much distance between him and her as she could manage.

So many pictures floated through her mind"his fangs glinting in the moonlight, sinking into Lord Winstons neck, Winstons limp body falling into his arms, the emotionless look on his face at the gallows... it was too much to bear.

Oh, when was Robin coming home? Robin would surely have found a way to kill them, and then she wouldnt have to be so frightened, anymore. Then again, with Lord Blackstock gone, shed be out of a job. How would she feed her family?

It was all too much to bear. She finished her duties quickly and rushed to find Mirabelle, anxious to get home and off to train with Will.

Oh, no, you cant go home, yet, Mirabelle said. Youve got to clean Lord Blackstocks study. I havent had the time to do it.

Cant Rebecca do it? Marian asked. I... I have somewhere I much be.

Rebeccas on kitchen duty tonight, Mirabelle said. So get to it. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can leave.

Marian trudged unhappily toward Blackstocks study, her head hanging. Each step was excruciating, and the closer she got to the study, the more anxious she grew. She paused outside the door to knock, but she heard voices within the room and she stopped to listen.

Gisborne, I dont want to hear another word about it, Blackstock snarled. I told you, we had to make an example of him!

Yes, my Lord, but perhaps this wasnt the best time to do it, Gisborne said. Perhaps you could have kept him in the dungeon until the first wave of taxes had arrived. If word gets back to the other Lords that youve hanged a man for trying to feed his family...

That man was a thug and a thief, Blackstock interrupted. And if any of the Lords try to back out of our arrangement, you will handle it.

Yes, my Lord, I only meant...

Enough! Blackstock shouted. You bore me. Go bother someone else.

Yes, my Lord, Gisborne submitted.

Hearing his boots crossing the floor, Marian quickly dashed down the hallway, turned around, and upon hearing the door creaking open, she began to walk toward him.

Lord Gisborne, she said with a polite nod.

Marian, he responded in kind.

His boots clacked down the hallway, and she gently knocked on the study door.

Go away, Blackstock called through the door.

I beg your pardon, my Lord, but Ive been sent to clean your study, Marian called meekly.

Fine, fine, come in, Blackstock growled.

She entered the room and closed the door behind her, setting the bucket down on the floor near the door. Pieces of parchment littered the floor as if someone had thrown a tantrum, and she began to pick them up.

Come here, Blackstock said rather suddenly.

Marians eyes scanned the room. Seeing no one else, she slowly straightened up and walked over to his desk. His eyes traveled down to the bodice of her dress, lingering there for several moments before rising back up to her face.

Yes, youll do just fine, Blackstock said. Come here.

I am here, my Lord, she pointed out.

I mean come here, he clarified, motioning for her to come closer to him.

She placed the parchment on his desk and slowly edged around it, standing beside him. Her stomach twisted into tight knots, and she could scarcely breathe.

Yes, my Lord?

His hands shot up, grabbing her bodice and pulling downward sharply. The flimsy fabric ripped, her supple b.r.e.a.s.t.s spilling out. She froze, her face burning hot with rage. Her instinct was to slap him, but she was too terrified to move.

Blackstock grabbed her wrists and pulled her into his lap. She struggled against him, but his lips fastened tightly against hers. She tried to scream, but the sound was m.u.f.fled by his persistent kiss.

Stop! she shrieked just as the door opened.

My Lord, Ive just thought of... Gisborne was saying, then he quickly said, Apologies, my Lord, I didnt know... Marian?

Gisbornes gray-blue eyes lit up with recognition. His lips were parted, and his eyes darted from Marians face to Blackstocks and back again. Marian twisted her wrists, wrenching herself from Blackstocks claws and clutching her torn bodice against her chest.

Get out! Blackstock shouted at Marian, his eyes bulging and his face red, spittle launching from his mouth in every direction.

Marian dashed past Gisborne and fled down the hallway. She could hear his boots echoing rapidly behind her.

No, please dont let him catch me and drag me back! she pleaded in her mind.

Marian! his voice called out after her, but she kept running. Marian, stop!

Her feet moved faster as she ran. Down the corridor, out the door into the crisp evening air. The chill hit her hard, her shawl still hanging on its hook in the servants closet. She tripped over a stone, spilling onto the damp gra.s.s.

Marian, he said above her, and she closed her eyes and waited for him to drag her back to Blackstocks filthy grasp.

He extended his hand to her. Ever fearful, she took it, afraid of what he might do if she refused. He pulled her to her feet. She was shivering as much from fear as from the frosty breeze.

Youre shivering, he commented, pulling his cloak off and laying it over her shoulders.

Marian said nothing. She waited for the inevitable.

Marian... he started to say.

I want to go home, she interrupted him.

Yes, of course, Gisborne said, snapping his fingers.

A stable boy who was standing nearby jumped into action. A moment later, Gisbornes white stallion was being led around the corner. Gisborne mounted the horse and then pulled her on behind him. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his waist. With a cluck of his tongue, the horse broke into a gallop. The gates creaked open for him, and he left the castle grounds and turned toward her home.

They rode in silence. Gisbornes cloak was thick and warm, and it trailed along behind them as the horse flew along the road. As the horse sauntered up to her gate, Gisborne slid down and offered his hands, and she took them. She slid down, landing immediately in front of him.

Marian, he said, and her eyes turned upward. Are you alright?

Im fine, she lied.

His eyes drifted over her torn bodice, and his brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought better of it and quickly closed it. Her fingers reached up to unfasten his cloak, and his hand closed over them.

Keep it, he told her. Ive seen your shawl. It hardly looks adequate for the coming winter.

Oh, no, I cant, she said, unfastening the cloak and sliding it off her shoulders. She attempted to hand it to him, but he refused.

Gisborne mounted his horse. For a moment, he lingered, the horse stamping at the ground, eager to go. His hair fluttered lightly around his face as he watched her, and then he clucked his tongue and rode away.

Marian looked down at the cloak, which lay neatly across her arm. She was more confused than ever. What was he doing? Was he trying to win her favor for some nefarious purpose? Inside the house, she tucked the cloak into a chest and closed the lid.

Did I hear a horse? her father asked.

Yes, Father.

Whose was it? Robins?

No, Father. Robins out of town, remember? It was Lord Gisbornes.

Him again, her father growled. No good son of a pig f...

Father! she gasped. Its not like you to criticize the Lords so boldly!