Guy paced the Great Hall, anxiety gnawing at him, twisting his stomach into knots.

How long had Marian been gone?

When he allowed her, without the sheriff's knowledge, to leave the castle astride a horse, he was proving he trusted her...proving he loved her.

Guy knew she loved horses and the freedom of racing upon one's back, and he expected her to be grateful to him for disobeying the sheriff and letting her ride. But she should have returned to the castle by now.

Worries assaulted his thoughts, torturing him.

Marian had disappeared once before, immediately following the death of her father, that weak-willed man. How such a mild, pathetic man had sired such a strong-willed, beautiful woman was beyond Guy. But breeding told. Knighton's forefathers had been bold, noble men. He'd only been a weak strain, a strain Guy trusted would never resurface in the sons he hoped Marian would one day bear him.

Just the thought made him flush with desire. His breathing grew labored as he thought of Her.

Remembering the time she'd disappeared, Guy felt proud of how he'd rescued her from the treacherous Hood, who had held her captive in a tree. She had shed actual tears when he'd rescued her, and he had nearly cried as well, knowing how he'd almost lost her.

"Oh, sorry," he heard Allan say. "Didn't mean to disturb you."

"Allan!"

Guy was relieved to see his man. If anyone could find Marian, that man was Allan.

"I need you to do something for me," he ordered, feeling a flush of nausea wash over him.

Guy was suffering from a slight fever, a stomach bug, which he tried to ignore. If he hadn't been infected with it, he would surely order his own horse saddled and ride off to find Marian himself.

"Sure," Allan agreed, trying not to hesitate. "Anything."

"Come with me."

Guy led Allan outside the castle, toward the stables. He wanted to be certain the sheriff didn't learn about Marian's absence.

"I need you to-"

Guy stopped speaking, and his heart thudded faster in his chest.

"What?" Allan asked, his eyes following his master's stare.

Of course, Allan realized. Marian. Both men could see her returning to the stables.

Allan suspected where she had been. She looked absolutely radiant. Everything about her seemed to glow, from her skin to her smile.

"Marian!" Guy called, breathing hard with relief and joy from the sight of her. "You're back!"

"Of course," she answered, leaping to the ground before Guy could lift her from the saddle. "I promised you I'd stay, didn't I?"

She had, after he had saved her from the hangman's noose. Still, with her, he never knew. She was like one of the sheriff's birds, longing for its freedom.

There were no words to describe how beautiful she looked, to Guy.

"You enjoyed your ride?" he asked, awkwardly.

Allan almost laughed at the way she blushed, before answering. She enjoyed it, alright, he thought, knowing she'd been in Sherwood, with Robin.

"I love the forest," Marian stated, looking for all the world like a woman in love.

"You were gone a long time."

A long time? Marian thought. Not long enough. Never long enough.

Marian almost felt guilty when she realized how worried Guy had been. "I'm sorry," she told him, gently. "I lost track of time." She paused, and then added, "Thank you for letting me ride."

Guy looked pleased, and Marian was glad. He'd certainly changed from the night he'd stormed into her home, burning it to the ground, and taken her and her father prisoner.

Knighton's stables had burned that night, too, along with her beloved white horse Vesper. She only hoped the horses had not suffered too greatly before they died.

But Guy was kinder now. He claimed to love her, though Marian knew better. How could he, when he didn't really know her? The poor man wasn't to blame, however. How could he understand what true love was, having been deprived of it his entire life?

Marian sighed when she thought of "true love." She had only just now savored it, in the arms of Robin.

She was walking with Guy back toward the castle, wondering why the odor from the stables went with them. She hoped she hadn't stepped in horse dung when she'd vaulted from the saddle.

Allan obviously smelled it, too. He was wrinkling his nose and darting his huge eyes all around.

"Not bein' funny," he said, "but it smells like sh-"

Guy and Marian's glares silenced him. "It stinks!" he finished.

Guy couldn't smell anything, but Marian thought the offensive odor was getting stronger. Lifting first one foot and then the other, she inspected the soles of her boots. They were perfectly clean.

"It isn't me," she stated, grinning at Allan as though Guy wasn't even there.

"Don't look at me," Allan added, grinning back.

Guy's face went white. Moments earlier, his bowels had loosed with a vengeance, due to his infection. He had made it to the privy, barely. Now he realized, some of what he'd expelled had clung to his black leather pants.

Mortified, he turned and ran up the steps of the castle, away from Marian's pretty nose. She must never guess that he, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, had been the source of the stink.

THE END