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“Thank you, Emma,” I groaned.
“Come, young mistress,” she said while dusting me off. “Let us get you to some fresh air.”
My brow pinched as I stood on wobbly legs, swaying from a bout of dizziness. “But Uncle Gregory—”
“Is not here yet. I did see him on the horizon, however, cresting the eastern hill.”
A gasp ripped from my throat. “Emma! Father will have your hide!”
“I couldn’t stand to see your bright face sullied any longer, ma’am. Hoping you’ll forgive me.”
I cupped her cherry-red cheek, smiling fondly at the maid I thought of as a sister. “You’re too good for this manor, dear Emma. Still, my father will take terrible retribution on you once he goes into the courtyard and sees—”
“I’m hoping we won’t be here by then. If we disappear for long enough, and he converses with your uncle once he does arrive, perhaps he’ll forget my transgressions.”
Hanging my head as I followed her out of the room, I used her shoulder as an arm-rest until I could walk right. My stomach felt queasy. “Oh, dear Emma. My father never forgets when punishment is due.”
Chapter 5
Robin
Emma led me through the halls and secret tunnels of the vast manor, which she used to stay out of sight while doing her work around the estate.
I’d never seen Father hit Emma—because what use would a handmaid with broken bones be?—but he certainly didn’t appreciate her. Not like I did. He saw the sweet orphan girl as an annoyance. Beneath him.
My mother hired her less than a year ago, originally to help with weaving and fulling. Since Mama’s illness, Emma had taken on more household responsibilities. I’d gotten to know her quite well. She was my best and only friend.
Father did not approve, and would rage if he saw me accompanying her.
Emma’s grip was firm on my elbow, until I shook my head of the cobwebs and pain. As we walked over thick rugs, passing closed rooms, I noticed her face was pinched.
I never would have expected my savior to come in the shape of a reed-thin bastard girl who worked tirelessly for my family. I saw her as an inspiration. At times, I wanted to be like her—gracious, accepting, kind. It was a difficult thing to accomplish when I lived under the heel of my father.
We reached the eastern wing of the house, took the stairs down to one of the kitchens. Past that, where two cooks paid us no attention, we came to a walk-in pantry that smelled of flour, oats, and barley. A small wooden door waited at the end, which led outside to the latrines and refuse pit.
Emma’s idea of escape was wading through the smelliest section of the manor to get out.
Before we reached the door, she grabbed a lit candle in a metal frame from the kitchen, and brought the lantern with us. As her hand moved for the knob of the door, I stopped her. Slowly, she turned to me, dark eyes dancing as they met mine.
“Thank you, Emma,” I said lowly. “You truly saved me tonight. But I don’t want you getting into trouble for my sake. Please, I’ll take the lantern and be on my—”
“You already said your thanks, mistress. More is not needed.” She raised her chin defiantly and sniffed. “Come,” she ordered, and threw the door open.
I reeled as the nighttime breeze washed over me. Then I smirked at her brazenness, ordering around her superior.
I followed her outside.
Past the outhouses and pit, she pointed toward a hillside made purple from the moonlight. “The road to Nottingham is just beyond—”
“I know where the road is, Em,” I said with a smile. “I’ve snuck out the back of the pantry before.”
Her rosy cheeks darkened even more. “Oh. Right. Apologies, mistress.” She gave me a shy smile, and we walked hand-in-hand to the road.
For some reason, despite the darkness, I felt much safer with Emma beside me. Lord knew I felt safer with her, even in the treacherous night, than I did inside my own house.
As we strolled down the thin road, past white fences separating neighboring estates, up and down the rolling hillside, I glanced longingly to Sherwood Forest. The black trees silhouetted against the plum sky beckoned me like a lodestone.
Sometimes, I wished I could throw it all away and live there. Toss aside my responsibilities and return to a basic, feral creature. Like the she-wolves of legend, who lost their minds to madness and now called the forests of England their home.
