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Perhaps my life at home was salvageable?
My thoughts brought us to the bridge I knew better than any in the land. It was an arching stone bridge with six-hundred-twenty-eight cobbles making up its surface. I’d counted them as a whelp, when I was bored and dreaming of an illustrious future.
Lord, but I was a strange child.
I smiled at the bridge in the distance, separating Nottingham from Wilford’s higher-tier estates. I felt free enough to look out the window—
Then Friar Tuck veered to the left, bringing the cart alongside the river. With a vexed sound, I sat back on the bench. Damn detours!
We traveled for another quarter-hour, until the carriage rolled to a stop. My ass ached when I stood, from all the bumpy stones in the city’s streets.
We were still in Nottingham proper. I glanced out the window, saw we were in the town square where the almshouse was nestled between a few aging shops—a leather maker and a tailor’s store. This part of town near the tannery reeked of urine and rotting flesh.
Tuck grunted as he dismounted from the bench. He propped his head in the window. “Hand me those and stay here, lass. I won’t be long.”
I started passing the piles of clothes through the narrow, open slat. “I thought you were selling this lot, not giving it to the orphans?”
“I am.” He nudged his chin to the tailor’s shop next door. “An acquaintance set up a meeting with other unscrupulous characters who won’t hesitate to buy stolen goods from the Queen of the Lace Market. They’ll give us pennies on the pound—certainly not what these fine garments are worth—but at least it’s something.”
“Ah. So you plan to accompany me to Wilford?”
“Of course, little heathen.”
I frowned. “I don’t need a watch hound.”
He laughed. “Careful! You’re starting to sound like Will Scarlet.”
I blushed. Dammit.
Once he had a giant bundle in his arms, he said, “Now be a good girl and stay here. Don’t cause trouble.”
I would never get tired of these ruthless men calling me that, so I just nodded dumbly.
He waddled away from the cart and veered toward the tailor’s shop. The door opened a moment later.
Before it even closed after him, I was bolting out of the carriage.
I don’t need anyone to guard or chauffeur me to my own home.
Lord, how I wished I knew how wrong I was.
Chapter 36
Robin
Isnuck into the barley fields. I knew the hollowed, jointed stems of this grass better than my own room. The estate lay along the sloped hill ahead, but I wanted to do some reconnaissance first.
Workers tilled a flat, empty section of the field off to the side, a stone’s throw away. I recognized the bald boy who hadn’t betrayed my secrecy when he caught me hiding in the clothes chest when I first left here.
I rustled through the grass away from him, not wanting to test my luck a second time. Circling the estate, I didn’t notice any guards in the courtyard or hiding among the walls. In fact, the whole place seemed eerily quiet except for the workers in the field.
I took a deep breath at the edge of the field and then barreled toward the manor, dashing across the road and making my way to my wing of the house.
I scaled the wall using the trellis and handholds, remembering each one. Those handholds would never fade from my mind because I’d used them so much in my life. Any time I needed to escape my father, and keep him thinking I was locked away in my room, I took to the window, the wall, and Sherwood Forest at the edge of our property.
My Realm of Solitude.
I crested the roof, scampered across to my window, and saw it was barred shut by wooden slats. Of course, I knew how to jostle them to get them open.
