because we’re everywhere, and we’re harmless, and we’re necessary. But to us . . . my Lady, whatever clothes you wear, you still walk like a noblewoman. Your face is fair, your hands unscarred. You look people in the eye. No servant would dare such a thing. You might fool a guard, you might fool the Sheriff, you might even fool your own father if you dirtied your face and kept your eyes down. But you’d never fool the washwoman actually assigned to scrubbing the floors.”
Marian stared at her until Elena began to turn red, the tips of her ears showing pink at the edge of her veil. So much had happened since she’d discovered Elena’s connection with the outlaws in Sherwood that she hadn’t had the chance to ask how long Elena had been disguising herself to sneak out and see Alan, or to consider the daring and guile of the girl who’d always seemed so quiet and domestic.
Now it was like seeing a sweet kitten throw its head back and give a lion’s roar.
Marian hunted for her voice. “What do you suggest?”
“A distraction,” Elena replied promptly. “We all have our assigned duties, but when we accompany our masters to a grand manor or a castle like this, we’re also expected to share in the household labors. There are bells that summon us if we’re needed unexpectedly. Different chimes mean different things. Three sharp rings is a summons for footmen and squires to the stables, for example. Four is for kitchen staff.”
Marian had heard the little bells, had always known they were for the servants in some manner—but she’d never paid them much attention. “And you can create a situation that summons even the washwomen from the bottom of the castle? What are you going to do?”
Elena lowered her gaze, demure and servile once more. “If I’m caught,” she said gently, “they might interrogate you.”
Marian had broken into a gasp of laughter, and the sound of it had so surprised her that she’d dropped heavily onto the edge of the bed, needing all her strength to press both hands against her mouth and stifle herself.
Now, as she stood as near to the long stair as she dared, she wasn’t laughing anymore. Elena had vanished some hours before with the basket, and as the shadows in the courtyard lengthened sliver by sliver, Marian’s imagination could not stop serving her images of her maid in chains, or at the mercy of the guardsmen, or worst of all: in a heap on the floor, her sweet blue eyes still, staring skyward—
Marian shut her own eyes, leaning her forehead against the cool stone of the window’s edge. She’d heard a few of the signal bells chime and listened to the patterns of steps. Three chimes had indeed sent a flurry of young men out to the stables when a hunting party returned from a day’s outing. Marian didn’t know the meaning of the others. Elena had told her only that she’d recognize the signal when she heard it.
Marian’s fingers curled into fists around the edge of the window, as if she might summon a few more moments of patience by bodily preventing herself from running off toward . . .
You couldn’t find Elena if you tried, Robin pointed out in her thoughts. You have no idea where she is.
That realization broke a cold sweat over Marian’s body, and she let go of the window, whirling for the stair.
Then the bell chime sounded again. Marian waited, listening for the pattern. The bell rang long, then short, and then short again, and then started ringing a fourth time—and didn’t stop.
The bell kept going, like a tiny version of a church bell’s fire warning. The background patter of steps and voices shifted, tugged toward the sound of the bells, and through the roaring in her ears, Marian heard feet running across stone, a distant shout, commotion rising and then fading away, retreating toward the servants’ quarters below.
The bell was still ringing, and, shaking herself from her daze, Marian abandoned speculation as to what Elena had done and hurried down the stairs.
The basket was there, exactly where Elena had promised it would be, and when Marian lifted aside a corner of her bed linens, she saw the worn, grease-stained hem of a coarse skirt. With a surge of triumph, Marian glanced around to make sure the hall was deserted, then grabbed up the basket and hurried on her way.