On an early afternoon in Spring, when daffodils waved their golden heads above the newly melted snow outdoors, Martin of Aylesbury, wretched in his agony, paced the floor of Knighton Hall. Marian sat, bored and unforgiving, waiting for him to leave.

"I can't give you up! I can't! I can't! I love you, Marian."

"Really?" Her voice was calm in its disbelief.

"Of course! Whatever happened to us? Can't you remember what we once meant to each other?"

"To be frank...no. I have no memory of anything between us other than one or two pleasant evenings just before Christmas."

"They were the most perfect days of my life!"

"Is that so?"

"Why are you being so cold to me?"

"Because, Martin, you are behaving like a fool. I have no patience for your hysterics. I never loved you, you only think you love me, I never agreed to this betrothal, and I tell you I will never marry you. You would be wise to get all of that into your head, and find another lady who will appreciate your generous offer of marriage."

"But why? What have I done? You kissed me, for God's sake! And not just lightly! I mean...you really kissed me!"

She sighed. "I am truly sorry for that." It had all been Robin's fault. If he were here now, watching this scene, he would be laughing, that is, if he weren't furious with jealousy.

She took the ring Martin had given her for Christmas out of its box, and pressed it into his hand.

He uttered a loud sob. "No! Don't! Keep it, please!"

"I don't want it, Martin." If she thought his feelings were sincere, she'd be sorry for him. But she guessed he believed his feelings this moment, but would be over them as soon as he found something else to entertain him.

She had absolutely no sympathy for him at all. She knew what it was to truly lose the one you love, and Martin's simulated grief offended her.

"Is it Spencer," he demanded, "or Locksley?"

"You'd better go," she replied, coldly.

He ignored her. "When you will marry me?"

She raised her eyebrows, and sarcastically answered, "But I haven't passed your physician's examination yet!"

"It's Locksley, isn't it?"

"You'd better go now," she cried, so loudly that her father came rushing into the room.

"Marian," he said meaningfully, "is everything alright?"

"Yes, Father. Lord Aylesbury was just leaving."

"I'm going!" Martin cried, but made no move to do so.

"Goodbye, Martin," Marian said purposefully.

"I'm leaving, Marian! I warn you, if I walk out your door now, I'll leave and never return!" He had made the same threat two days before, but here he was, back again.

"Please do. You've said you're going, so go."

"Marian," her father protested, "there's no excuse for rudeness!"

Martin took a deep, dramatic breath, and strode grandly out her front door. "You will never see me again." When he had finally gone, Marian breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's hope that's the last time," she told her father.

Edward was not in agreement. "Young lady," he said firmly, "do you really want to spend the rest of your days regretting this?"

She looked at him in bewilderment.

"Aylesbury is a fine match! He's young, attractive, personable, of good family...what more do you want, young lady? No...don't bother to answer! Do you know what I found in your bed, Marian? Do you?"

She knew. She just didn't know he had found it.

She had been sleeping with Robin's green and gold doublet she had taken from Locksley, sometimes holding it in her arms, sometimes pounding it with her fists or even tearing at it with her teeth, even though she despised herself for doing so. She looked at the ground, her cheeks scarlet.

"You're wasting your life on a dreamer, Marian! A nice, well-born boy, but a dreamer! And an absent one at that! The odds are he'll never make it home, unless his remains get packed into a coffin and are sent by sea, to be buried on the hill beside his parents and infant brother. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but you need to forget him and move on."

"I have forgotten him," she lied, wishing desperately it were true.

"He's a great deal to blame for all the shire's troubles," Edward said. "He should never have gone, leaving his people at the mercy of the new Sheriff."

Marian nodded her head. "He should never have gone," she agreed sadly.

The sound of hoof beats outside their home startled them both. Edward peered out their window. "Another suitor," he said. "Please, Marian, be polite."

The Earl of Spencer leaped from his horse and waited by the front door. Due to his rank, Edward sent a servant to answer the knock.

"Good day." Spencer bowed to Edward and Marian, and then asked, "Would you mind, Sir Edward, if I borrowed your daughter for a few hours? I should like to take her out riding."

"I would be delighted." Marian answered for herself, and ran to fetch her cloak.

...

It was exhilarating to be racing on horseback through the spring air. The ground was still soft, and their horses' hoof beats splashed mud onto their clothing and faces, and into their hair, but Marian didn't mind. Robert was an excellent horseman, even if he wasn't the best company otherwise, at least in Marian's opinion. Something about him struck her as insincere, and it made her uncomfortable. And she didn't care to hear any more of his stories of a certain knight's debauchery in the Holy Land.

"Let's ride to Locksley," Marian suggested. "I want to see how the village is fairing." It had been awhile since she'd been there. Clun, Nettlestone, Knighton, and Nottingham had such great need lately, she had neglected Robin's village, believing that keeping away would help her forget its master.

When they arrived, Kate ran to her. Her father had recently died from a lingering infection he had suffered after the Sheriff had ordered Gisbourne to cut off several of his fingers. He had been like his son Matthew, as kind and soft spoken as his wife Rebecca and daughter Kate were harsh and abrasive.

"Do you have any food?" Kate demanded. "We're hungry."

"Get back, girl," Spencer ordered. "Don't bother this lady!"

"It's no bother," Marian said, jumping from Vesper's back. "I'm sorry, Kate, I didn't bring anything to eat. But here, take my purse. There's money in it."

Kate grabbed the purse and ran back to her home, slamming the door behind her.

"Ill mannered peasant," Spencer sneered, in disgust. "Why did you give her your purse?"

"Is your heart really so cold to her suffering?" Marian asked, disarmed by his attitude. At least he appeared honest, for once.

"Is it suffering, or laziness? I think she just took advantage of your good nature."

Marian was reminded of what Thornton had said about Robin, that night last winter when she had eavesdropped on him speaking to Gisbourne. Hadn't Thornton accused Robin of the same thing...being too generous and good natured, so that people took advantage of him? But that was before people's needs were so great.

"Times are becoming hard. They really are hungry."

Spencer shook his head. He was impatient, wanting to make his move on her, and it was beginning to show. Planning to return to his wife and children shortly, he didn't want to go until he had bedded Marian, but was no closer than he had been months ago. It made him angry.

Marian heard Luke Scarlet crying, and ran to him.

"Lukie! What's wrong?"

The boy looked up at her. He was squatting on the ground, trying to whittle with his knife, but had cut his finger.

Marian suspected there was more to his tears than simply his wound, but first things first.

"Oh, here," she said, turning away to lift the hem of her gown. She borrowed Luke's knife to cut a small strip of fabric from her freshly laundered linen underskirt to use as a bandage for his cut.

"Where's your mother?" she asked, washing the cut before wrapping it.

"Here I be," Jane mumbled, in a quiet voice. As she approached her younger son, she stumbled. Marian moved quickly to grab her arm and steady her, and was alarmed to feel how thin the arm under Jane's homespun gown was.

"Jane!" she cried, "have you been ill?"

"Ill? No, milady."

"Then, why are you so...?"

Marian had been about to say "thin" or "weak," but a look of fierce pride in Jane's eyes silenced her.

"What is happening to this village? Isn't Gisbourne caring for you?"

Jane merely gave Marian a weary look, then helped Luke inside their cottage, and shut her door. Before it closed, Marian caught a brief glimpse of Will's face. He had changed. The intent, pleasant expression he used to wear was replaced by a look of intense anger and suspicion.

"This is like some sort of nightmare!" Marian cried. "Everyone's shut up inside? On such a beautiful spring day? I don't understand! I will speak to Guy of Gisbourne and find out what he has done to Locksley! This has to stop!"

Spencer sighed. He suspected his wooing wouldn't yield any results today, and he was sick and tired of playing the do-gooder and still not getting anywhere with Marian. "Let's ride back to Knighton," he suggested. Since she was so generous with peasants, he decided she could be generous with him. He'd throw caution to the wind and make a bold move on her, once he got her home. He should have done it weeks ago.

Marian wasn't listening. She was planning how the Nightwatchman could get food parcels to Locksley tonight.