Asleep, Robin lay thrashing on the bed, deep in his recurring nightmare of war. The Saracen attack on the king, his battle to save the king's life, the attacker's steely eyes and tattoo, all tormented him. Gisbourne! Robin's eyes flipped open as he was bolted awake. Drenched in a cold sweat and shaking, he sat up and breathed deeply, calming himself.

It had been a long time since he'd suffered from night terrors...years in fact. War had brought his nightmare back, but Robin dismissed it, knowing its cure lay in doing good, and loving and living with Marian.

Where was she, he briefly wondered, missing her. Grinning, he assumed she was up and eagerly learning from the nuns. Marian seemed happy in this convent with their family, interested in all the housewifely duties of these industrious sisters...sewing, cheese making, cider pressing, and soap making.

The last on his mental list spurred Robin to get out of bed and wash. His leg still hurt, though his wound looked somewhat better. His limp seemed less pronounced. Quickly, he splashed water from a basin all over his body and used the lavender soap to wash away his imagined taint of battle. He could almost hear Roy's taunt calling him "Lavender Boy," and he smiled wistfully, remembering his fallen friend.

Lightly whistling, he toweled himself off then stepped into his trousers, draping the towel over the back of his neck.

He heard a light knock on the door and assumed it was Marian. "Come in," he called, his back to the door. "You were up early."

He spun around, grinning, and was surprised to see his children's nurse.

"Sorry," he said, throwing off the towel and pulling a shirt over his head. "I thought you were my wife."

After enjoying such an eyeful, the nurse couldn't help wishing she really was his wife, even if she was old enough to be Lord Locksley's mother. "Excuse me, my lord," she stammered. "I'm looking for Lady Grace."

"Grace is missing?"

"Your lordship mustn't be alarmed. I assume she's with Her Ladyship. Her little nightdress was left neatly folded on her bed, and her shoes are gone."

Robin walked to the window and looked outside. "That's alright then," he said, seeing his horse was missing. "They probably went for an early morning ride."

The nurse looked somewhat disapproving. "Very good, master. I only hope they're back in time for breakfast. It won't do to upset her little ladyship's schedule."

"Certainly not," Robin appeared to agree, though his eyes twinkled with fun.

...

The pain Marian felt in her head did not lessen with the passage of time. She guessed she'd suffered a concussion, and hesitated to sleep again, though she craved sleep. Silent tears poured down her cheeks as she thought about Robin being dead.

"I must have been half concussed," she remembered him teasing, the very first time he had admitted with words that he loved her. "Robin!" her heart cried, though she didn't speak a word. Like the previous time in Acre when she had already mourned his death, she needed to hide her feelings again to protect herself and their child.

She also needed to accept her lot in life and carry on, she told herself. She was Gisbourne's wife, and she must have lied to him about her child being his. "Later," she had told Guy, and she knew he would come and claim what he thought was his marital right. She longed to escape, but knew she mustn't. She had made a bond with him to kill the sheriff, and he had lived up to his part of the bargain. Now she had to live up to hers, however horrible she found it.

But something even stronger than her revulsion toward Gisbourne was pulling at her, something she couldn't define. It seemed wrapped up with her love for Robin and love for their child...their children. Why had she thought in the plural, she asked herself? Frustrated and unable to understand, she closed her eyes and sank into the deep oblivion of sleep.

She awakened to find Guy on top of her, naked and tearing her clothing off her with his hands and his teeth.

"Guy, no!" she ordered, but he persisted.

He refused to wait any longer. He couldn't! The thought of her, Hood's belonging, now his to take whenever he wanted, was too strong for him to resist. He had waited for her for years, his passion ever burning, loving her as he had never loved another, and now she couldn't refuse him. This wouldn't be like the terrible, disappointing, empty time outside Bonchurch. She had fought against him then, and his desire had been to punish her as well as to expend his passion.

He did not want to punish her now, but to claim her and love her and make her his own!

"Stop it, Guy," Marian shouted, believing he would return to his senses and obey. "You're hurting me!"

He was. He was crushing her, crushing her baby, savagely trying to force her legs apart as he slobbered kisses all over her. She could feel his throbbing manhood forcefully pressing against her tightly locked thighs, and then, before he could push her legs apart, his entire body violently shuddered and he erupted, unable to control his release.

He let her go, embarrassed and filled with shame. "You made me wait too long," he accused, though hoping she might still be pleased at his intensity and ardor. No other woman made him feel as she did, passionate, and yet protective.

Marian, horrified, covered herself with the blanket and got out of bed. "How dare you?" she asked, not even wanting to look at him.

"How dare I what?" Gisbourne sneered. "I was making love to you. You are my wife."

"Love?" she repeated, astounded and outraged. "You know nothing of it! You are not a man, but an animal!"

"So, Hood's a better lover, is he?" Gisbourne asked, menacingly.

"Pardon?" Marian wasn't sure she had heard correctly, but she suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"You heard me," Guy sneered.

What did Guy know, she wondered? Her spinning head felt as if it were being squeezed in a vice. She had to push through the pain and find out. "Did you say, 'Hood?' " she asked, her voice sounding small.

Gisbourne, humiliated by his performance in bed, blamed her in his mind. "You were Hood's spy and whore, back in Nottingham," he accused, growing furious at the memory of her betrayals. "I know all about it...everything...how lied to me and pretended you cared!"

Wrapped in a blanket, Marian began to shiver. Stretching her arms to wrap the blanket more tightly around her, she glanced down, fearful for her unborn baby, then noticed two scars on her belly.

"You lied to me," she realized. "You did try to kill me, in the Holy Land."

"Aw," Gisbourne sneered. "Feel betrayed?"

Marian's heart lifted, knowing Robin might still be alive.

Her saving the king and marrying Robin had not been a dream after all. "I am not your wife, Guy of Gisbourne," she told him happily. "I married Robin of Locksley just after you ran me through with your sword."

"No!" Gisbourne shouted, leaping from the bed and charging toward her. "It was a dream! You are my wife!"

"I would rather die first," Marian told him.

Gisbourne felt his dream escaping from him. He couldn't lose her to Hood, not again! He needed to come up with more convincing lies and threats, to tie her to him forever.