Mentally he had to kick himself. What did he go and tell her his sodding name for? It was stupid and careless and risky. He supposed it was the drink. Maybe it had dulled his mind. And she was sweet and charming, he had to give her that. Enough to loosen any man's tongue he'd wager.

Bloody women.

Part of him was almost resigned to give her up when she went to dance with the boy but a much larger part was too intrigued to stop now. There was something undeniably interesting about her, something that pricked at his curiosity. For sure, she wasn't like any noble woman he'd ever met. True, he didn't have vast experience of women of class and the ones he had met he had never liked, what with them looking down their often too large noses at him, but he knew enough to realise that she was different from most. He had the distinct feeling that she was hovering on the brink of doing something wild, inhibitions struggling to hold her back and a less than chivalrous part of him wanted to be the one to push her over that brink and see just what she would do.

He could almost see it right then in the way she danced so merrily, laughing as she was twirled, the villagers encouraging her by clapping heartily to the beat. She was like a trapped bird waiting to be set free and, on the evidence of that night, simply required wine and song as the key.

He laughed at his own thoughts, wondering when he'd become so sickeningly poetic.

He sat for a fair while, testing his resistance as watched her dance until his desires, as they often did, got the better of him. He wanted too much to know more about her. It was too daring a challenge to give up.

Besides, he still hadn't gotten his kiss yet.

Interrupting her and the boy as one song ended and another began, Allan deftly moved the younger man aside and took her to him instead, one hand in hers and the other at her waist. He braced himself momentarily for the sharp sting of a slap but it didn't come. She certainly felt tense in his grip but didn't show any sign of wishing to be elsewhere, obviously willing to follow where he led for now. It was a good start indeed.

"Sorry boy," he said with a grin, talking to the lad but his eyes on the lady, "You can't keep the finest woman here to yourself all night. Besides I think she owes me a dance."

"I do not," she said although her protest was made ineffectual by the hint of a smile.

"Course you do," he explained brightly, "For whatever it was you thanked me for back there."

The smile grew then and, seeing that she clearly had no objections, Tom left them to it with a grin of his own.

Allan could tell that she had had her share of the wine. Not as much as him but certainly enough to bring some rose to her pale cheeks and to make her the slightest bit unsteady on her feet as he whirled and skipped her around, giving him the perfect excuse to hold her a little tighter. She was surprisingly athletic for a noble woman and he guessed that she must just do a lot of riding or something. He very much doubted that she had done anything like a hard day's work that could have honed such a figure.

Yes, she must do a lot of riding indeed to get the sort of body the cut of her dress hinted so tantalisingly at. Rarely had he seen or felt finer form.

On closer inspection he came to another conclusion too; she didn't seem like someone who had done a lot of laughing in a while, although he wasn't entirely sure how he knew that. Even so he had the distinct feeling that she hadn't been as merry as this in a long time and it made him feel strangely and rather worryingly good to think that he'd helped in that, getting rather warmer as her smiles beamed alternatively at those around her and at him.

He caught himself before he drifted too far into sentimentality, finding it most disconcerting, and he shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts so all that remained was his goal of a kiss.

She looked at him a little curiously but said nothing.

They danced with gusto, two songs before she protested with a laugh that she must stop because she was getting dizzy. Grinning broadly he led her to a nearby bench before announcing that he'd get her another drink.

"No, I shouldn't," she said shaking her head.

"Just a small one," he insisted, "Help you get your breath back. I haven't finished with you yet."

She gave him a bit of a look.

"In the most honourable possible way, of course," he clarified with a grin and she seemed to smile in spite herself in return.

As he crossed to the opposite table and poured two more pitchers of wine he hesitated a moment, looking back at her as she watched the dancing continue, clapping along with the music. A moment of doubt hit him. She was a sweet girl and he didn't want to put her in a bad position or tarnish her reputation. But, he reasoned, it wasn't as if they were alone and the people here didn't seem at all bothered by her dancing with him. And he just needed a little more time to get that kiss. That was all he wanted and there was no real harm in it.

Besides, he chuckled to himself, she looked like she could do with a good kiss.

So he poured the wine, a little more than a small cup, grinning broadly as he walked across and handed it to her, sitting down even closer than before.

Marian was sure she could feel the heat radiating off of her companion as he sat down next to her which probably indicated that he was far too close. But no one seemed to care. No one shot her any disapproving glances or seemed to be whispering about her behaviour so why should she worry?

She wondered briefly if actually they were, if the gossip the next day would be about Lady Marian's wild behaviour with the stranger the night before and that she simply didn't see their reactions now because she did not wish to. In the end however she decided that it didn't matter and gossip be damned. If dancing and laughing were scandalous then she hoped to cause a lot more scandal before her days were through for this was the best she had felt in a long while.

She sat and talked to him again, more laughter in their conversation now, more frivolous matters discussed. She relaxed, leaning back a little against the edge of the table instead of sitting so poker straight as she had always been taught. It was a small rebellion but it felt rather good all the same.

When yet another new song started up to a loud cheer from all those assembled, Allan grinned and grabbed her hand without warning, pulling her towards where many others were already lining up in pairs for what was obviously a well known favourite.

"Come on," he encouraged, "It's traditional."

"But I don't know it," she protested, hanging back a little, slightly embarrassed and too keenly reminded once more that she was an outsider here even though it was her home. It was odd really how he was the true interloper and yet seemed to belong far better than her.

Not to be defeated, he stepped closer to her, his free hand on the small of her back pushing her onwards, his persuasions not so subtle now.

"Then I'll teach you," he insisted with the sort of easy grin that she was increasingly finding irresistible.

If she was to be asked later she'd have had to admit to remembering little of the dance at all, the steps and patterns all blurring into one. She was sure that she was horrible at it, making too many mistakes, and yet no one seemed to mind. Allan's arm was increasingly firm at her waist and he seemed to be pressing closer to her every time the steps brought them together but somehow it never felt inappropriate nor, if she was truthful, unwanted. Even her father seemed at ease with it all, simply smiling at her as when she caught his eye as she was whirled between the columns of people once more.

Her world was spinning in more ways than one but it felt good. It felt free.

The dance ended with another huge cheer. She let out a small gasp of surprise as they finally stopped spinning and only Allan's quick hands prevented her from tumbling to the floor from dizziness.

"Easy there!" he said with a laugh.

She laughed too as she gripped on to the front of tunic, feeling his heart pounding through the material, his breath still a little short from the effort. She wasn't in much better state herself but even her seemingly more vigorous exploits as the Night Watchman somehow didn't make her feel as alive as this.

Even as a child she had always dismissed tales of the full moon turning men and women wild but now she began to wonder. She certainly knew that in that moment, with a few more sips of wine to strengthen her courage, she may just have given in to the sudden and unbecoming urge to kiss him.

Considering what happened next it was fortunate she did not.

"Marian."

She felt her whole body grow instantly tense, suddenly and acutely aware of her current condition and how it must look to an outsider's eyes. The life that had been flowing so freely seemed to drain away in an instant, locked back up in a cold box and she suddenly felt almost guilty at the impropriety of her situation.

The greeting was formal and stilted and when she released her grip on Allan and turned to look at her visitor his expression seemed to be something akin to distaste, most likely directed at her company rather than her. He appeared to be wondering why she would associate herself with people so below her own class. If only she had the opportunity she would tell him very firmly that in that moment she would rather spend a thousand lifetimes with good, honest men such as this wine merchant than she would one minute with him.

"Sir Guy," she greeted steadily, pleasant but not particularly welcoming. She hated how easily the mask she seemed to wear every day slipped back into place.

"Forgive me," he said eying the festivities around him, many of which seemed to have cooled slightly in his presence as if his uncomfortable manner was affecting them all, "I did not realise that I would be interrupting such a gathering".

Feeling uneasily as though too many eyes were suddenly upon her, Marian placed a hand on his arm and gestured towards a quieter area away from the others.

"Perhaps we should remove ourselves. I'm sure you would not want to interfere with the dancing."

"Of course not."

She was very grateful indeed that Allan did not follow them.

When they stopped he just stood and looked at her, arms crossed, an imposing figure in black much darker than the night itself.

"So, I see you are well again," she said eventually, uncomfortable with silence between them and his glances that felt almost like scrutiny.

"Yes."

"You must have been quite ill," she continued, not for the first time finding his taciturn manner most difficult to deal with, "We have not seen you for many weeks."

Which was in all honesty something she was very grateful for. She knew his family had fallen from grace and power and that he had not grown up in the surroundings that perhaps he should. As well as being a source of pity she also often believed it was the explanation for his awkward manners, particularly around her. He had not had much experience of noble ladies in his youth and so had never quite learnt the way to deal with them. And yet, despite his obvious difficulties, he persisted in trying to strike up a friendship with her, with a hope of more it seemed even though she did nothing to encourage it. It was becoming tiresome and, the longer it continued, frankly a cause for concern.

"Indeed," he said, "But I had a fine physician. He said it would be unwise for me to accept visitors in case I should pass the fever to them. I'm sure I would have seen you at Locksley much sooner otherwise."

"Of course."

She wondered if he could see the lie in her eyes or if he only saw what he wished to.

There was silence again for a moment that seemed to last far too long.

"Well since you are returned to health now," she continued as brightly as she could muster, "Perhaps you would like to join us."

She had no desire to invite him to stay but could think of little else to say in order to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation. And, if she allowed her head to rule just for a moment, there was also sense and reason to consider too. Sir Guy was in league with the Sheriff and it was prudent to remain friends with him. She had to be dutiful and gracious for her father's sake at least. They did not need any trouble and she courted enough already every time she risked being caught as the Night Watchman.

"No," he said looking around him, obviously not as comfortable with this type of gathering or company as she, "No thank you. I just need to speak to your father. I have a message for him from Nottingham."

She nodded, leading him politely towards where her father sat. She briefly thought that perhaps once Guy was gone she could find her companion again, dance some more and forget all about this little intrusion.

But she knew with a heavy heart that she was fooling herself. Those free yet fragile moments were ruined now and there was no getting them back. She was Lady Marian, daughter of the former Sheriff and noble woman of Nottingham. She was not free.