Lady Thief
Page 4
“Will definitely wouldn’t. All he’d understand is someone that claims to love Scarlet is hurting her. He’d probably kill you, Rob,” John said, coming close. “Or happily die trying. I think the young man has a crush on Scar.”
“You would know what that looks like, wouldn’t you, John?” Rob asked, his voice iron hard.
“Rob!” I snapped.
But John just chuckled. “Well, who could blame me. I mean, you’re the love of her life, but I’m the one who knows what her kiss tastes like, right?”
The boys were glaring at each other, not paying a lick of mind to me. Which were fair fine with me, for John didn’t see it coming when I kneed him in the bits. He didn’t fall, but he howled and twisted away from me.
“What the damn hell, Scar!” he roared.
“You are my friend, John Little, you do not wag your chin about any bit of me like that,” I snapped. I whirled around. I wanted to slap Rob, but I didn’t. “And you. John’s trying to protect me from your dreams, your nightmares, something none of us fair well understand, so don’t bait him like that. It’s cruel and you know it.”
He swallowed, and he looked at me, his face open and worn. “I am cruel, Scar,” he said, like it were a confession. His eyes fell to my neck, and he shook his head. “Come,” he called loud, his voice rougher. He stepped away from me. “Let’s practice with the bows. John, are you well enough to help?”
John coughed and nodded to him. My heart twisted like a scrap of cloth, and I took the stairs two at a time to the hayloft. I sat on the edge, watching as the nine children and two women what had come lined up to listen to Rob teach them to defend themselves, and their homes, and their families.
Much came and sat beside me with a sigh.
“You have to know, with John—”
“I know,” I said. “I know better than you think.”
“He just wants to protect you.”
“I know he does. And I’ll always love him for it and many more reasons. But he and Rob are so awful to each other sometimes.”
Much gave a soft noise, and I turned and took in his sad and mournful face. He saw me looking and shrugged. “They may be awful to each other, but only because they know they’re brothers. And brothers can fight.” He paused a long stretch. “They don’t fight with me,” he said.
“We’re all family,” I told him. “They just think of you like the baby.”
He frowned. “I’m not a baby. I’ve grown a few inches, I think.”
“I know.”
He scowled. “You know?”
I laughed. “All your pants are short.”
“Scarlet?”
I turned and looked to the stair where Missy Morgan stood, hanging back. She were as pretty as milk and sun, more short and quiet than her two sisters, but she were the jewel amongst them. She crowded the rail, her shoulders sunk in.
“I don’t want to learn the bow so much. Can we practice more with the knives?” she asked.
Nodding, I stood from the ledge and pulled Much up with me. Looking at her, making herself small even in this place where she knew there weren’t nothing to fear, my breath caught. “I reckon so. Much, will you run and snatch a few?”
He looked at my vest where I had at least three, but I met his eyes full and he nodded. He went past Missy, touching her arm a little, and she raised her eyes to him and held her breath till he passed.
Were Missy sweet on Much? That would be a match to be sure—though I weren’t the sort to know if a love could survive with so much shy and kind in it.
I waved her closer, and she drifted up to me. “Did something happen, Missy?” I asked her.
A wash of color went all over her face, splotches of pink and red like fast-blooming roses. “Y-yes,” she said. “Sort of. I was at market, and a man, he put his arms on my waist and he said something—something awful,” she said, her gaze falling to the wooden floor and her hands shaking.
“Oh—” I started, but she weren’t finished.
“And I did what you said. I stepped on his foot, and I hit him with my elbow,” she said, wrapping her arms tight round herself. “And he let me go, and I ran. But I think I’d feel better with a knife.”
My heart filled up hard and fast, bits of happiness spilling over the edges and slopping around inside my chest. Most nights it felt like God himself were punishing me, but seeing a girl protect herself instead of asking someone to do it for her felt like some kind of redemption. “Then we’ll get you a knife,” I told her.
It were late in the afternoon when Thoresby came in, two servants with him carrying food for the children. He nodded to us and came closer, leaving the children—and John, the big hungry thing—to descend on the food.
Thoresby weren’t a big man. He weren’t an overstrong man, or clever, or young. But he were always fair, and I liked that about him.
“Have you heard anything?” Rob asked. His body turned a bit, leaning toward mine, like everything in him were pulling him closer to me and stopping just short of touching.
Thoresby nodded. “The prince is coming to Nottinghamshire. They’re speeding up progress on the wall to be ready in time—a fortnight at the most.”
I sucked in a breath. “Will he name a sheriff?” I asked.
“If he’s decided, he hasn’t let me know.”
“You would know what that looks like, wouldn’t you, John?” Rob asked, his voice iron hard.
“Rob!” I snapped.
But John just chuckled. “Well, who could blame me. I mean, you’re the love of her life, but I’m the one who knows what her kiss tastes like, right?”
The boys were glaring at each other, not paying a lick of mind to me. Which were fair fine with me, for John didn’t see it coming when I kneed him in the bits. He didn’t fall, but he howled and twisted away from me.
“What the damn hell, Scar!” he roared.
“You are my friend, John Little, you do not wag your chin about any bit of me like that,” I snapped. I whirled around. I wanted to slap Rob, but I didn’t. “And you. John’s trying to protect me from your dreams, your nightmares, something none of us fair well understand, so don’t bait him like that. It’s cruel and you know it.”
He swallowed, and he looked at me, his face open and worn. “I am cruel, Scar,” he said, like it were a confession. His eyes fell to my neck, and he shook his head. “Come,” he called loud, his voice rougher. He stepped away from me. “Let’s practice with the bows. John, are you well enough to help?”
John coughed and nodded to him. My heart twisted like a scrap of cloth, and I took the stairs two at a time to the hayloft. I sat on the edge, watching as the nine children and two women what had come lined up to listen to Rob teach them to defend themselves, and their homes, and their families.
Much came and sat beside me with a sigh.
“You have to know, with John—”
“I know,” I said. “I know better than you think.”
“He just wants to protect you.”
“I know he does. And I’ll always love him for it and many more reasons. But he and Rob are so awful to each other sometimes.”
Much gave a soft noise, and I turned and took in his sad and mournful face. He saw me looking and shrugged. “They may be awful to each other, but only because they know they’re brothers. And brothers can fight.” He paused a long stretch. “They don’t fight with me,” he said.
“We’re all family,” I told him. “They just think of you like the baby.”
He frowned. “I’m not a baby. I’ve grown a few inches, I think.”
“I know.”
He scowled. “You know?”
I laughed. “All your pants are short.”
“Scarlet?”
I turned and looked to the stair where Missy Morgan stood, hanging back. She were as pretty as milk and sun, more short and quiet than her two sisters, but she were the jewel amongst them. She crowded the rail, her shoulders sunk in.
“I don’t want to learn the bow so much. Can we practice more with the knives?” she asked.
Nodding, I stood from the ledge and pulled Much up with me. Looking at her, making herself small even in this place where she knew there weren’t nothing to fear, my breath caught. “I reckon so. Much, will you run and snatch a few?”
He looked at my vest where I had at least three, but I met his eyes full and he nodded. He went past Missy, touching her arm a little, and she raised her eyes to him and held her breath till he passed.
Were Missy sweet on Much? That would be a match to be sure—though I weren’t the sort to know if a love could survive with so much shy and kind in it.
I waved her closer, and she drifted up to me. “Did something happen, Missy?” I asked her.
A wash of color went all over her face, splotches of pink and red like fast-blooming roses. “Y-yes,” she said. “Sort of. I was at market, and a man, he put his arms on my waist and he said something—something awful,” she said, her gaze falling to the wooden floor and her hands shaking.
“Oh—” I started, but she weren’t finished.
“And I did what you said. I stepped on his foot, and I hit him with my elbow,” she said, wrapping her arms tight round herself. “And he let me go, and I ran. But I think I’d feel better with a knife.”
My heart filled up hard and fast, bits of happiness spilling over the edges and slopping around inside my chest. Most nights it felt like God himself were punishing me, but seeing a girl protect herself instead of asking someone to do it for her felt like some kind of redemption. “Then we’ll get you a knife,” I told her.
It were late in the afternoon when Thoresby came in, two servants with him carrying food for the children. He nodded to us and came closer, leaving the children—and John, the big hungry thing—to descend on the food.
Thoresby weren’t a big man. He weren’t an overstrong man, or clever, or young. But he were always fair, and I liked that about him.
“Have you heard anything?” Rob asked. His body turned a bit, leaning toward mine, like everything in him were pulling him closer to me and stopping just short of touching.
Thoresby nodded. “The prince is coming to Nottinghamshire. They’re speeding up progress on the wall to be ready in time—a fortnight at the most.”
I sucked in a breath. “Will he name a sheriff?” I asked.
“If he’s decided, he hasn’t let me know.”
