"I would like to bathe now," Isabella announced to the outlaws.

"Funny sorta prisoner," Allan smirked, "issuing orders to us."

Robin knew it was useless to continue questioning her, at least for now. "Anyone volunteer to walk Isabella to the pond?" he called out.

"Pond?" she repeated, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Allan's hand shot up.

"Any woman?" Robin clarified, giving Allan an amused look.

"I'll go," Marian offered, surprising her husband.

Robin had hoped Djaq would have volunteered instead. He was uncomfortable having Marian spend time with Isabella, especially away from him. But what could he do? Unsheathing his knife, he handed it to his wife. "Don't let her out of your sight," he warned. "And please, Marian, don't believe everything she says."

"You're sure you told me everything?" Marian asked him.

"Nearly everything."

Marian lifted her eyebrows at him, waiting for an explanation.

"There was one more time I almost..." Robin began. "But I ended it, Marian, before it had gone very far. I didn't mention it because I didn't think it counted. Now you know everything, I swear it."

Marian sighed somewhat angrily, rolling her eyes. "Robin of Locksley," she said severely, then teased, "When I get you alone..."

Robin, relieved, grinned back at her. He wanted to kiss her, but they tried not to kiss one another in front of the others.

...

On the way to the pond, Marian said to Isabella, "I hope you don't mind if I ask you a question."

"About the time Robin hinted at today, when he fled from my bed? There was no need for him to go...no one but myself knew he was in the castle that night. I still haven't forgiven him for leaving me so abruptly."

"It wasn't about that, but..." Marian decided not to pursue the story, suspecting Isabella might embellish it to make her even more jealous than she already felt. Gathering her thoughts she continued. "You said you were half French. I never knew that, about your family."

"You mean about my brother. So, you are intrigued by him, or possibly even 'stirred,' as he calls it."

"I'm not stirred, believe me, especially now. It just seems odd to me, that he and I were engaged, and he never mentioned it."

"Guy isn't proud of our mother. Her heritage was questionable, though not so bad as Meg's, Guy's soon-to-be wife. Our father claimed our mother was of the French nobility, but her village was a poor, squalid one, as Guy and I learned when we moved there after our village was seized by the Crown. In any event, she ran away with a strolling player, a troubedour, when Guy and I were quite young. I can't say I blame her. I ran away from my husband, for much the same reasons she left my father."

"I'm sorry for you. I mean that kindly."

"Guy sold me to my husband, who is English by the way, when I was only thirteen. The odd thing is, he shares the same name as the Steward at Locksley Manor. Every time I hear Guy shout for Thornton, I jump."

Marian understood firsthand the trauma from a man's violence, though hers came from a single event, not years of what Isabella must have endured. Her heart softened toward her captive.

"Wouldn't it be funny," she asked, "if you and I became friends?"

Isabella was taken off guard. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, suspiciously.

"There's no need to be unkind. Is there?"

Isabella looked at her. "I was going to poison you and Robin. The wine I offered the two of you in my room did not contain velarian root, as I told you, but something far more sinister."

Marian drew in her breath. "I was planning to give it to the guards! You would have allowed me to commit murder?"

"They were only guards, after all. Surely a few dead soldiers wouldn't matter, or have you bought into your husband's noble policy of 'no killing'?"

"I had the same policy myself, before Robin returned from war. Maybe you'll learn to see its worth, living with us." They walked on, then Marian asked, "Why did you want to kill Robin?"

"He rejected me," Isabella answered, matter-of-factly.

Marian could not accept such an answer. "Surely that's no reason to kill!"

"It is if you're a Gisbourne."

Still, Marian was aghast. "Robin rejected me, and I prayed every day he wouldn't die."

"He rejected you? When?"

"It was years ago. Our wedding was drawing near, and he chose war. He traveled thousands of miles away from me." Marian was surprised that the memory could still wound her. She blinked back tears that sprang to her eyes.

Isabella saw them, and envied Marian her feelings.

"Here's the pond," Marian said at last.

Looking at it, Isabella sneered. "So, you bathe with the frogs and the fishes? Disgusting. I have no desire to smell like muddy water."

"It's better than smelling like those who don't bathe," Marian said, untying Isabella's wrists.

"You mean that wild man?"

"Little John is gentle, when he doesn't have to fight."

"Robin enjoys fighting," Isabella mentioned.

"He does. He likes to win." Marian smiled, letting her thoughts dwell on her husband.

Isabella took the opportunity to slip off her nightdress without Marian noticing the knife and vial of poison she had strapped to her garter, then hid them in the folds of her discarded dress.

Not liking herself for it, Marian nonetheless quickly evaluated Isabella's naked form, knowing Robin had once enjoyed it. She was sorry to admit Isabella was lovely, and she envied her the absence of scars.

Isabella sank under the water. It was clear and clean, and felt wonderful. Resurfacing, she asked, "Did Robin ever tell you about the time he and I almost drowned? We were under the castle, and my brother tried to kill us by flooding it, releasing an underground spring. It was so cold!"

"How did you escape?"

"Robin had me take off my dress, and used it for a rope. First he had to shoot an arrow through a metal ring, while he was under water."

"You took off your dress?"

"Of course! How else could we escape?"

"Oh."

Isabella enjoyed Marian's jealousy. She wasn't about to mention she was nearly as well covered without her gown as with it on. Had this outlaw wife worn men's trousers so long, she didn't remember the many layers a lady wore under her gown?

"I'm coming in, too," Marian decided suddenly.

"What?" Isabella asked.

"I need a bath as well," Marian said. She really only wanted to cool off, after what Isabella had told her. "Don't look at me."

But Isabella looked. Like Marian, she wanted to evaluate the woman she considered her rival. She hated what she saw, knowing her own body, lovely though it was, was no match for the other woman's in most men's eyes, in spite of the scars marring her abdomen.

"Don't think about stealing my husband's knife," Marian warned her. "You won't have a chance against me."

Isabella laughed inwardly, having a knife of her own.

Marian felt better, enjoying the water. She knew she'd been ridiculous, jealous over something that had not been sexual. "I'm sorry I got mad," she said. "You were lucky that day, Robin had his bow. He still amazes me with it."

Isabella only smiled. This woman's kindness was beyond anything! It would be easier to fool her than she expected. She decided to try her plan of slow poisoning as soon as possible.