Outlaw Princess of Sherwood by Nancy Springer Read Free Book Online Page A

he told her. “We go now, oui ?”
    â€œ Oui . Um, yes.”

Seven

    A pretty sight, forsooth! But what is it?” Eyes twinkling like blue stars in the firelight, Robin gazed at the page boy.
    Etty smiled back at Robin Hood, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then sat down with a sigh of relief on the ground under the huge, hollow oak tree where Robin and his men customarily made camp. Rook remained standing, and so did the page boy. Let them stand. The males could keep their useless pride. Etty was tired and she would admit to it, so tired she could have lain down right on the damp ground. It had been a long, weary nighttime trudge to Robin’s favorite hideout, but necessary to get well away from Fountain Dale.
    Ignoring Robin’s question for the moment, Etty asked, “Have you seen Lionel?”
    â€œPoor wee Lionel? Aye, he’s halfway between here and there with his leggings flapping.”
    â€œHe thinks he can carry Father all this way—”
    â€œHe can’t. But Little John is helping him.” Robin coughed and wiped his nose on the usual place, his jerkin sleeve. Feeling Etty’s disapproving glance, he gave a wry smile. “Sorry. No kerchiefs in the wildwood, barring the one that belongs to a certain pretty lady. Throw some more wood on the fire, lads,” he told the outlaws who had gathered around to survey the visitors, “and bring forth that excellent venison. So, Etty, explain.” Robin scanned the page boy with his most quizzical grin. “This is a pretty bird of unexpected feather.”
    â€œNo salt on our tails, thanks to him,” Etty replied.
    â€œBeauregard du Fleur Noir, a votre service, ” said the page boy in his flutelike voice, reaching for his yellow-plumed cap, which was not there. He made a deep bow anyway, sweeping the imaginary hat.
    There was a muttering among Robin’s men. “Frankish,” Etty heard someone whisper.
    â€œSissy Frankish boy,” mumbled somebody else.
    Frankish, yes. Sissy? Etty recalled that they had all once thought Lionel a sissy.
    â€œShould have been a girl,” grumbled another outlaw.
    They scorn him because he’s beautiful , Etty thought, noticing how the firelight played on Beauregard’s silvery skin, outlining his profile in gold. A classical Grecian profile, worthy of a cameo, with its elegant brow flowing straight into an aristocratic nose. Beautiful, those sloe-black glowing eyes under curls even fairer than Robin Hood’s. This Beauregard was worthy of a ballad.
    â€œ Enchanté to you encounter, Robin of the Hood,” he said as he completed his bow. “ Quel plaisir . I—”
    â€œThe pleasure is mine.” Robin anticipated fun, Etty could tell by the glint in his blue eyes. “Just so long as you don’t call me porridge-face or bête gross odieux .”
    Etty sat bolt upright with a gasp. “You heard!”
    Robin just grinned.
    â€œWe wondered what was taking you so long.” With Tykell at her heels, Rowan appeared beside Robin. “We came to see.”
    Beauregard acknowledged Rowan at once. “ Enchanté , mademoiselle.” He bowed so deeply that Tykell sniffed his nose. Beauregard straightened. Tykell wagged his bushy tail as Beauregard asked Rowan, “ Vous êtes the handmaiden of the princess Ettarde?”
    â€œNo!” said Ettarde.
    â€œYes,” said Rowan. Despite this outrageous fib, she faced Beauregard with her usual grave, level gaze. “They found you in the pavilion?”
    â€œHe found us,” Etty put in. “Caught us in the act.”
    Beauregard said, “The big Lionel, he grab me, oui , but not hurt.”
    Robin Hood asked, “But why were you there, lad?”
    â€œSleeping! The fools did not wish it, but mon foi , I would not let them put me with the common soldiers. Brrr!” Beauregard shuddered expressively, and Etty heard a muttering go around the outlaws