Page 171 of Knotted in Sherwood Forest

"Giving up your career because of me."

He opened his mouth.

I held up a hand. "I'm serious. You don't get to make me the reason you abandon something you've spent your entire life building."

His expression softened. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good."

"Although I should point out that you've already ruined my reputation beyond repair."

I folded my arms. "Your reputation needed improving."

He laughed. And I decided that whatever he chose, I would make certain it was because he wanted it. Not because he thought loving me required him to surrender everything else.

We returned to Locksley eight days later. The weather had turned cold, and the trees were beginning to lose the last of their leaves.

Little John, Merry, Alana, and Much accompanied us, along with a cart carrying supplies. I rode through the gates for the first time in six years as the lawful owner of the estate.

I didn't look at the house immediately.

Instead, I looked down the drive. That was where Fitzwalter's soldiers had come six years earlier. I could still remember the sound of their horses.

The shouting. My grandmother grabbing my arm and telling me to run. I made myself look at the road until the memory loosened its hold on me.

Then I turned toward the house.

It was in worse condition than I'd remembered.

The burned western wing would need to be demolished on the northern side and rebuilt. There were three places in the hall roof where daylight came through. Someone had stripped the lead from the chapel gutters years earlier. The fences were broken, the pastures overgrown, and the south stable looked as though a strong wind might finish it.

The Crown's assessor had left a list of necessary repairs.

Four pages.

I stood in the courtyard and read every one.

"The west pasture needs clearing," Guy observed.