Robin and Marian were greeted excitedly by their little girls and their cat, but it was Much who was most happy to see them return to Bonchurch, or more specifically, relieved by their return.
"She wailed today," Much complained accusingly to Robin, looking at Grace as if she were an unpleasant curiosity. "It was horrible!"
"She cried for you at naptime," Eve clarified, talking to Marian. "If you will tell me her naptime routine, I can try to imitate it, and help her settle down."
"Thank you," Marian responded, feeling guilty for having caused her daughter's tears by being away, "but there's no need. I won't be going to Nottingham tomorrow."
"And you?" Much asked Robin.
"I will be," Robin told him, smiling down at his daughters. "Is there any chance I might borrow your horse again?"
"Of course! Anything I have, Robin, is yours."
"Thank you, my friend." And then, jokingly under his breath, he added, "It couldn't have been worse, than your boys screaming."
"Oh, it was, believe me," Much shot back.
The two families enjoyed eating supper together, listening to the day's adventures, with Robin leaving out any mention of Isabella. He preferred hearing what his girls had done, rather than relate what he considered his long, boring day standing guard. Marian's day had been much more eventful than his, but she too preferred hearing about the children's games and adventures, every word of their prattle precious.
"There was only one argument among the children today," Eve told them. "All three of our boys want to marry Ellie when they grow up."
Marian hid her smile when she saw Robin visibly stiffen.
"Well, that's a long time off," Robin said, recovering his good nature.
All the children, tired from their day of romping, went to bed early. Robin and Marian sat awhile beside their children's bed, watching them sleep.
"There's never enough time, is there?" Marian asked.
"I remember you saying something like that before," Robin reminded her, stroking her hair.
"When I was dying. We do have time, and I'm grateful."
"Shall we go to bed?" Robin asked.
It was very early, but the couple longed to be alone together. They loved one another slowly, infinitely tender, breathlessly savoring every kiss and touch, until their passion swept them to urgency, and afterwards, they savored lying in each other's arms, talking together softly until they drifted off to sleep.
Morning came too soon, and shortly Robin was galloping toward Nottingham on Much's horse.
Marian felt his absence, and the day dragged slowly on. She loved being with her girls, but she saw less of them than she expected. They were busy, mostly playing outdoors with Much and Eve's boys. Marian longed to be useful, but she found herself with almost nothing to do, staying in someone else's home with no duties or responsibilities to occupy her time. Only at Grace's naptime did she feel useful, and her mind started formulating plans to change her situation.
She didn't want to wait for Queen Eleanor to fix things. She wanted to fix things herself.
Eve could see that Marian was bored, and asked to observe Marian putting Grace down for her nap. She watched them play a game, with Grace hiding her face under her blanket while Marian pretended to have lost her, and then both of them breaking into delighted smiles after Grace popped out from beneath her blanket, calling, "Here I am!" She listened as Marian sang a song about horses and wished her daughter "Sweet dreams," kissed her, and that was all. Grace hadn't cried one tear.
"Can you teach me that song?" Eve asked, after they'd left the room.
"Certainly. Do you want to sing it to your boys?"
"I think I'll be singing it to Grace tomorrow."
Marian looked surprised. How, she wondered, could Eve have guessed her thoughts?
"I know my husband is getting on your nerves," Eve mentioned, even as Marian tried to object. "I know. He even gets on mine at times, but he's so kind hearted and true, I don't mind it."
"Robin feels that way about him, too. Differently, of course, than you, but the same."
"You're thinking of finding another position in Nottingham tomorrow, aren't you?" Eve asked.
"Am I so transparent?"
Eve thought a moment before offering her opinion. "Whatever you choose, it's only temporary. You'll all be home again soon. And if you do decide to work, Much and I will see your children are well looked after."
But Marian wasn't as transparent as she pretended to be. Eve had only partially guessed her plan, and not her motives. Only one day or two, she was thinking, and neither she nor Robin would have to take positions they deplored. She did have a plan to get a job in the castle, but the pay is not what drove her. Having made up her mind, her mood improved.
While Grace napped, Ellen was outside the lodge with Much's boys, showing them how to climb a tree. Much, worried she would hurt herself, tried to stop her, but Ellen was fearless.
Marian stepped outside the house and joined them under the tree.
Ellen had handed her rag doll "poppet" to John, Much's youngest son who was Ellen's same age, to hold while she pulled herself up into the branches.
"Get her down," Much advised Marian, when he saw her join them. "She'll break her bones."
"She's fine," Marian calmly assured him. "She climbs trees all the time. She's agile, like Robin. She's just like a little squirrel in the treetops."
"Please!" Much protested. "Don't mention squirrel to me! It really was chicken, you know."
Marian ignored him and called up to her daughter. "Not too high, Ellie. Stop at the next branch."
"Yes, Mama. I waited for Gracie to sleep, 'cause she wants up and she's just too little."
"That was very good of you," Marian told her.
"Come up," Ellen invited Much's sons. "It's easy."
But the boys had their father's wariness toward danger. They preferred to run circles around the tree trunk, until they grew bored and ran circles around their father.
"Children are a blessing," Much told Marian over his boys' whooping voices, trying hard at that moment to believe it.
Ellen thought it looked like fun to run circles around Uncle Much, so she scooted down from the tree and joined her friends.
"Unharmed," Much said, breathing out a sigh of relief.
But something very dear to Ellen was about to be harmed. Wanting her poppet back from John, she grabbed one of its arms and pulled. John pulled, too, not wanting to give it back, and soon, there was a terrible sound of ripping cloth and both children dissolved in tears, with John holding most of the doll and Ellen clutching one unattached arm.
Much had a horrifying flashback of fighting the Battle of Acre, seeing men with their arms sliced off their bodies.
Marian knelt down and hugged both sobbing children.
"Don't cry," Marian said, comforting them. "I can fix it. It just needs stitching. Did I ever tell you about the time I sewed your father's arm?"
Ellen stopped crying, but John, feeling guilty, continued to snivel, and his nose was running worse than usual. "Come inside," Marian suggested. "I need to borrow needle and thread."
Marian was pleased to have been in Bonchurch today to repair Ellen's beloved rag doll, even though she knew that Eve could sew as well as she. But it was satisfying to soothe her daughter's tears, and "make everything better."
It would be difficult leaving her daughters to seek another position in Nottingham, but she felt it was the right thing to do, to solve their lack of funds.
Not to mention, she couldn't wait to get back at Isabella.