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“No. You’re a survivor. And you’ve avenged my sister.” He put his hands on my shoulders, drawing me close in a hug. “I’m in agreement with their other words, too. I’m so sorry you had to do that.”
“I don’t regret it,” I quickly snapped. For some reason, my anger flared at everyone’s apologies. As if they thought I was too meek and weak-willed. Too feminine and highborn, perhaps.
“And you shouldn’t,” Gregory said. He pulled me to arm’s length to lock eyes with me, and his voice became gravelly and filled with sorrow. “You will struggle with this, Robin. Perhaps not tonight. Maybe not for years. However, eventually, doubts and remorse and guilt will seize you. You need to be ready to fend them off. If you must, hold on to the men who care for you”—his chin nudged to the Merry Men inside the cottage—“to find guidance, support, and aid in trying times. Because it is no simple thing to take a life.”
I nodded slowly, taking his words in. “I understand, Uncle Gregory.”
He cleared his throat and turned away, as if to hide the dewiness of his eyes because he didn’t want to appear weak to his niece.
I thought about his words. “You see now that the Merry Men care for me, don’t you?”
“Aye.” His nod was solemn. “I have no right to try and take you from them, if you wish to stay with them.”
“I do.”
“Then I will stop hounding you to come home with me. What even is home, anymore, eh? Perhaps you are safer with that rowdy bunch. God knows you weren’t safe behind the walls of your own household.”
My head bobbed. I didn’t have much to say to that.
“I was only trying to protect you, dear niece. For as long as possible. But now . . . now I must pass the shield, I’m afraid. And that is why I weep.” He chuckled darkly, swiping his eyes with his forearm and giving me a crooked smirk. “You never were much of an innocent lass, I know. Though whatever innocence you still had, I worry it is now gone completely.”
“We all have to grow up at some point, Uncle.”
“Aye. A sadder truth I’ve never heard.”
Silence fell over us. The wind whispered through the grass. The voices behind, in the cottage, had gone quiet, and I imagined the Merry Men were watching me and my uncle closely, making sure he didn’t make any last-ditch effort to steal me away from them.
I had been so conflicted about Uncle Gregory. For a while, I thought he had abandoned me like everyone else in my life. Then I thought he had done worse—betrayed me. I thought he was responsible for Sir Guy of Gisborne’s search for the Merry Men; that he had broken his agreement to them in order to find me.
Now I knew the truth. Though he had never been perfect, he was simply trying to keep me alive. We were the last vestiges of our family name, after all.
If people discovered the truth of my mother’s death, or my father’s part in it—and his end at my hands—it would be a sad, morose day in Nottingham. A tragic tale of a family turned against one another, all for ambition, greed, and caused by heartache.
Selfishly, I hoped the truth of what had happened here would never see the light of day. In fact, I would fight to make sure it didn’t.
“What will you do now?” I asked my uncle.
He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at the sea of swaying grass. “Maid Marian has proven herself a cunning adversary, and Sir Guy will report what happened here to the Sheriff of Nottingham. No doubt I will be pursued. I have resigned myself to my fate, since the deaths in Wilford that came from my hands while protecting you. I am an outlaw. My property is forfeit, and so is my freedom. Luckily, I’ve had my hand in a few hats over the years. I have places to go—places I’d rather not say—to keep me well-hidden and protected.”
I swallowed hard. “So you’ll . . . hide?”
“Until the right time. I suggest you do the same, Robin.”
I was confused about his words. It wasn’t like my uncle to take the coward’s way and hide. The right time? When is that?
He was right about our overall prospects. As an outlaw myself, my claim to the Wilford estate would be forfeit. I would be branded a killer, just like the Merry Men. My family’s house—and likely the textile operation that created my lineage’s wealth—would be seized by the government of this tyrannical land. Emma and the serfs would be taken with it, and I felt ashamed for not thinking more about her, about her future. What would become of my dear friend?
“And you, lass?” Uncle Gregory asked, thankfully stealing me from my misery. “What will you do? Where will you go?”
I glanced over my shoulder at the men inside. Sure enough, they were huddled shoulder to shoulder, watching me intently. They respectfully kept their distance so I could speak with my uncle and give him my farewell.
“I suppose I’ll go wherever the Merry Men take me. After all . . . seems I’m one of them now, doesn’t it?”
Chapter 50
Robin
The Merry Men and I left the cottage in Loxley. They had left a trail of bodies in their wake. This quaint countryside village would wake up in horror. It would put more strain on the outlaws who made the woodlands their homes, because the authorities would be pressed to extinguish the threat of the highwaymen that supposedly terrorized their people.
