Marian wanted to laugh as the men from Robin's former outlaw gang entered her room. Except for Wiil, who entered with his usual quiet dignity, the rest looked so out of place it was funny.
Much, of course, was at Robin's heels. He appeared cheery on Robin's ale. Poor Much! Marian thought. He'd most likely been so worried over her baby's lengthy delivery, he had since overindulged a bit in his immense relief.
Little John seemed to fill the entire room. Marian found his attempts to enter quietly quite hilarious, as he carefully stepped around the finely carved, ancient furnishings in her bedchamber. He paused at every step, as if that would still his heavy footfalls! He, too, appeared worse for drink, and if that were the case, then there probably wasn't any ale left at all downstairs!
And as for Allan! Allan had entered breezily, smiling his usual, naughty boy grin. Marian knew him well enough from their year of friendship when they both lived at Nottingham Castle, she could detect a slight degree of his being uncomfortable in this situation. So, she wondered what bawdy remark would he throw her way to amuse the others? He did not disappoint.
"Not bein' funny, but I always figured when you finally got around to invitin' me to your bedchamber, the rest of these gents wouldn't be here. Especially not him," he said, indicating Robin, who immediately seized him in a headlock. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Allan cried, while Robin grinned, his eyes shining as they always did when winning a fight, "I take it back! I WAS bein' funny!"
"Is that what you call it?" Marian teased, cradling her precious baby proudly in her arms.
Much, always a stickler for details, corrected, "You've been in her bedchamber before, Allan, on several occasions. And always, Marian...always, you've been in bed! Funny, that, if you think of it. The first time was at Knighton...remember? We were all there, after Gisbourne had stabbed you. Remember, Robin? You were really upset. Of course, you thought she was planning to marry Gisbourne! No wonder you were bothered. I've often wondered, Marian, just what would have happened to you if you had gone through with it. I mean, you know...the wedding night and all. How did you expect to hide your wound from your new husband? I mean, what do you think Gisbourne would have done to you when he-"
"Much, shut up!" Allan, Little John, and Will had mercifully stopped the endless flow of blather from Much's mouth, but their command had awakened baby Richard.
The infant squirmed slightly, his eyelids fluttering. His cry was nothing more than a weak mew. That effort alone seemed to tire him.
Marian bit her lower lip. Her face betrayed her alarm, as her heart froze in fear.
"Robin?" she gasped. She needed her strong husband to confirm that all would be well.
Robin was immediately at her side, staring into their baby's face. The worry on his own face confirmed Marian's worst fears.
"Ha!" Much declared. "You see, the good Lord has taken pity on you at last for sticking you with your wailing Grace, and has mercifully and wisely given you a quiet child this go round! I've always said, He always balances things out!"
"Shut up, Much," Will hissed, through clenched teeth.
A respectful knock on the open door announced Locksley's reeve, Thornton, who was eager to see the future Lord Locksley himself. "Excuse me, Master...milady. Father Hugh has arrived. Shall I show him up?"