By all accounts, Lady Marian had dressed modestly but well. She favored rich colors and demure, classic cuts and often let her hair fall naturally. On our wedding night, I would make sure nothing about me would remind him of her.

I was lucky to have a small, carefully marshaled inheritance, in addition to my dowry, which passed out of my hands long ago. A new dress would be expensive, especially in the city, but within my means – particularly as my means would be my new husband's means soon enough, so I might as well enjoy them while I could. As the tailor worked within the shadow of the city walls, I was permitted to visit him with only a maid as chaperone. My guards – who I learned had been stationed to protect me, not imprison me, foolish as I was – remained behind. Walking through the city with my maid carrying my reticule, I felt surprisingly light and free.

I had arrived in Nottingham less than three weeks prior and the streets were still strange to me. But the hustle and bustle of merchants, porters, servants and street-sellers was lively and fun. The city no longer seemed so frightening. I hope not, after being held hostage yesterday, I thought drily. I would be a poor spirit indeed if I could not face a crowd looking to sell trinkets and skewered meat.

I felt almost like I was waking from a fever. My head cleared and my spirits lifted. For the first time, I was walking through the world without the scorn of the Sheriff to restrain me, or the brooding presence of my bridegroom to occupy my every thought. Our shared passion that morning seemed strange and remote now. For the first time it occurred to me if I wouldn't do better to steel my spirits against Sir Guy, and his shifting moods. After all, he had killed a defenseless woman!

I was uneasy. True, I was attracted to him. I really felt that he was good inside. But since the moment my guardian had announced I was to marry him, until now, he had loomed larger in my world than any other concern. I had been possessed by his good looks, his damage, the sensual way he made me feel – but ought I to pursue safety? Not fleeing in reality, of course, but attempting to curb my feelings, and to protect myself from his pain. When looking at his blue eyes I couldn't picture him harming me, but I had no reason to believe he wouldn't if he liked to. At least I could keep my heart apart.

There is always shelter for me in the forest, I remembered. The outlaw's promise seemed sincere. But I had promised Guy I would never betray him, and running towards his enemy because of an imaginary crime that had not yet occurred would be a betrayal of the lowest sort. My thoughts ran so quickly that I was surprised when the maid said, "Milady, we're here." It seemed like my feet had hardly touched the road.

I pushed aside my conflict for the moment and entered the tailor's shop. I had been told that the tailor enjoyed the patronage of the upper class, and this was reflected in the rich bolts of cloth he had on display. I ran my hands over supple leather, which reminded me of Guy. A slubby silk that rustled under my fingers, and I pictured Guy pushing it off my shoulder. Heavy velvets, soft suede and thin, tightly woven linen all seemed to have more presence, and I felt them more meaningfully, as if Guy had awoken me to sensation itself. Merciful heavens, I thought, I was throbbing at the very thought of him. I stepped back and hurriedly wound my hands in my skirt.

The tailor emerged and bowed. "How may I serve you, milady?"

"I need a dress." My voice came out louder than I expected and I cleared my throat. "I am to be married in two days."

"A wedding dress?" He sounded alarmed. "In two days?"

"Not a wedding dress. A dress for…after the wedding."

"Ah." The tailor evaluated my figure critically. I relaxed a little, since he didn't seem to consider me a shameless trollop, and I felt more like a dress form than a woman under his neutral gaze. "That, I can do."

Several hours later, I returned home, my measurements recorded and fabric chosen, a design discussed and soon to begin. I shivered with delight at the thought of the dress. If I could beguile Guy's body, perhaps his heart would follow, as earlier he intimated it must – and no-one could take me away.

As I returned to the castle all thoughts of preserving my own heart faded, as if they never were.

…

I had breakfasted alone, in my room, and I ate the noonday meal in the company of maids, chattering with them more freely than before as we aired and re-folded my trousseau. Dinner was unnerving. The Sheriff was angry and pensive, muttering about Robin Hood's latest foray – evidently he had wasted no time, and robbed a caravan of merchants that very day. Guy did not speak a word. He spent the meal staring at me with an intensity that seemed almost like dislike.

I spent half the night lying awake, heart pounding, listening for a rap on my door, but none ever came.

I thought about visiting him in the morning; but not long after I woke, I saw him in his telltale black armor riding away from the castle. I wondered if he was avoiding me. He certainly seemed to have ridden across the view from my bedroom window deliberately, as though to make it clear he did not want to see me. Was this a good sign? Could he not trust himself around me? Or was he truly indifferent? It mattered not; we would be wed tomorrow.

I spent the day in a haze of nerves and planning, until suppertime, when I begged out of the evening meal – alone with the Sheriff, I thank you, no – and took a horse and a guard to collect my finished dress. It cost a little more than half of my meager purse, but it was truly beautiful. When I returned to my chambers, Jenny spoke.

"Sir Gisborne looked in to attend upon you, milady, and to find why you were not in the dining hall." She indicated a tray placed by the bed, containing some roast fowl, soft white bread, and a precious dish of sugared dates. "He brought you this. The wine is warming by the fire."

I indicated to the guard to leave the package containing my dress, and depart. "And what did you tell him?"

Jenny shrugged. "You did not leave word of your going, milady. I told him I knew not."

My heart sunk in my chest. Would he think me churlish or vengeful, avoiding him in return when in fact I could hardly wait to see him again? Could I have had him all the sooner? "Thank you," I said hollowly. "I'll dine alone."

Jenny curtsied and left me. I ate heartily of my meal, for distress had only sharpened my appetite, and after all it was from Guy. I stared at my new dress, draped over the end of my bed like a vision. I hoped it was worth it.