Read Online Romancing Robin Hood by Jenny Kane - Free Book Online Page B

wear your clothes so well.’
    Grace’s cheeks reddened at the unaccustomed compliment, while wishing Agatha hadn’t made her wear such a low-cut top, and mentally admonished herself for allowing him to turn her face to crimson twice in one afternoon. ‘Thank you,’ she squeaked, ‘but I confess, this is not my usual attire.’
    He tilted his head to one side, ‘Jeans and T-shirts?’
    â€˜Yup,’ Grace laughed despite herself, letting some of the tension that had built up between them slip away.
    â€˜Me too.’ He looked down at his crumpled suit with an unsavoury grimace.
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Yes, but there’s been this stupid three-line whip about what clothes we can wear during interviews. They actually sent me home to change into a suit this morning! Can you believe that?’
    Grace’s mouth dropped open in surprise for the second time in ten minutes, and burst out laughing, before telling him about her own similar start to the day.

Chapter Nine
    A strong black coffee in a double layer of cardboard cups to protect her from the heat of its contents sat on the lap table fastened to the back of the train seat before Grace.
    The journey to Sheffield wouldn’t take long, but Grace decided to do some writing before Daisy picked her up from the station. It would prevent her mind from replaying the viva she’d just experienced (or more accurately, the walk with Dr Franks she’d had afterwards), and keep the prospect of dress shopping tomorrow at bay.
    Flicking her way to the correct place in her notebook before fishing out a red pen from her ancient Tom Baker Doctor Who pencil case, Grace found herself wondering what Rob Franks would make of her ownership of that. He’d probably wonder why, if she must own a child’s pencil case rather than a sensible boring adult one, why she didn’t have a Robin Hood one.
    The lecturer been a lot nicer than she’d expected really. OK, he had teased her a bit, but she’d probably asked for it. She knew she got a bit touchy about her work sometimes. Despite her determination for it not to, Grace’s mind drifted to when they’d stood by the lake together and she’d had to steady herself against him, albeit briefly. His crumpled linen jacket had been rough beneath her touch, and yet warm from the sunshine. The slim muscular arm beneath had suggested that maybe he worked out …
    The conductor came into the carriage and broke Grace’s unsolicited daydream by asking for her ticket. She admonished herself firmly; she’d just wasted a good ten minutes writing time with pointless reminiscences and fruitless wishful thinking.
    â€˜Mathilda.’
    Robert de Folville spoke sternly, and at once Mathilda could see why it would be unwise to argue with his man unless you were very sure of yourself. It was as if he had two sides to him. A side that was never to be questioned, that was ruthless and determined. And a kinder, more gentle side, considerate of the individual and the locality. It was how these two halves mixed and intertwined that intrigued Mathilda as she stood shyly in only her chemise before him.
    The housekeeper who’d bathed her had produced new clothes for Mathilda, and despite all her experience and sharp temper, had been unable to persuade this new girl to put them on, claiming she favoured her own familiar, if rather dirty, clothes. Eventually the older woman threatened to get his lordship, whether Mathilda was naked or not. Mathilda had said she wouldn’t dare, but the housekeeper had dared, and grinning knowingly went to fetch Robert.
    Mathilda had only had time to pull on the long kirtle before Robert came striding in, a look of annoyed impatience across his face. ‘You will dress in these,’ he pointed to the pile of semi-new clothes. ‘I can’t waste my time with things like this, girl.’
    Shaking her head firmly, Mathilda braced herself as