Robin had been correct when he'd told Marian she would feel terrible in the morning. Her head pounded and she felt sluggish, as if enveloped in a thick fog.
The weather had turned lovely, and the fresh air helped her feel better, along with some medicine Djaq had provided.
"Robin," Marian said, standing just outside camp while he checked their provisions for the day, "you shouldn't have given me your blanket. I didn't realize until this morning, you had to sleep without one."
"You were shivering. Besides, I'm a hardened soldier, remember?" He grinned, winking at her.
"I'm hardened, too," Marian challenged.
Robin looked at her, his grin fading, his gaze replaced with admiration and regret. "You are," he agreed, somberly. "And the only way I can accept that is knowing it's made you stronger, not bitter."
She was surprised, and pleased. "I thought you'd snicker at me."
"No, Marian. I admire and respect you."
She reveled in his praise, but waited, wanting more. What about love, she wondered. He was silent, so she confessed, "I was bitter, cold hearted too, when you returned from war."
"Your heart was never cold. Think of how you cared for the poor."
"It was growing cold. But I have changed since you came back. I've regained things I thought I'd lost...hope and faith, especially. You...you gave those back to me, Robin."
" 'Faith and hope and lo-.' " His voice stopped, abruptly.
They stood gazing at one another. Now was the moment he should take her in his arms and kiss her, the way he used to. She missed and longed for his lips on hers, his arms around her, his heart pressed against hers, beating time with it.
But he did not kiss her. He appeared moved, but didn't take so much as a step toward her.
"Looks like Much packed everything," he said, slinging the pack over his shoulder. "We'll start with business and dispense with it, leaving the rest of the day for pleasure."
Again Marian was surprised. Something was missing. Such a statement from him in the past would have been flavored with a teasing twinkle in his eye and an irresistible, wicked grin. Now it was just a statement.
He wasn't even trying to charm her. She felt bewildered, and frustrated.
"Right," Robin said. "I need to show you where we set all the new traps, and then we can enjoy the day."
As his eyes roved over the ground, he tensed. "Hoof marks," he said, dangerously. "Fresh ones. Someone rode right by our camp last night."
Marian hesitated, then decided to tell him. "It was only Allan. He brought me back."
"Allan?!"
"He's my friend, Robin."
"He used to be mine, until he turned traitor. You can't trust him, Marian."
"Not completely, but I think he's proven-"
"He helps the Sheriff! He's Gisbourne's dogsbody!" Robin was so angry he began pacing like a caged animal. "And if he brought you back," he continued, shouting, "you must have been in Nottingham! "
"I was."
"You could have been captured, or worse. I thought you would have learned by now!"
"I was trying to help you! I went there so I could tell you what the Sheriff's planning!"
Robin tried to master his anger. He could not believe Marian had been so reckless as to go to Nottingham. But since she had, he wanted to learn what she had uncovered.
"Alright then, Marian," he said, folding his arms over his chest, "what did you learn?"
Marian froze. She realized that she hadn't uncovered anything she could remember. How could she admit that?
Attempting to stall, she began, "I'll have you know, I didn't go to the castle-"
"There's that, at least."
"Don't interrupt me. I went to the next best place...the Trip Inn."
"You went the Trip?!"
"Stop shouting!" She was angry now, mostly at herself for having failed her mission, and having to admit it. And now that she was trying to recall the events of last night, she grew angrier at him. "I met a friend of yours there, by the way."
"What friend?"
"A very good, close friend, it would seem. She sent you a message. She wanted to let you know she has an itch she wants you to scratch."
Robin was speechless, not to mention confused.
Regaining his tongue, he told her, "You shouldn't be in the company of those people."
"Because I'm a woman? It's alright for you, of course, to spend time there. At least I didn't go upstairs."
"I have never been upstairs at the Trip, Marian, except when I confronted Canon Berkeley. I don't even know who it is you're talking about."
"She's called Hannah. Oh, now you remember!"
"I kissed her one time. She insisted on it, as payment for information. She must have liked it."
"Did you?"
"Maybe." When he saw the hurt in her eyes, he quickly added, "But no."
"Don't lie to me, Robin."
"When have I ever lied to you, other than hiding my feelings?"
"So you admit you hide them. That's a start, I suppose." Marian felt emotional...vulnerable. She was relieved, for she truly believed his story about the tavern girl, and she felt foolish for having been jealous. But the hurt she felt from being excluded from his gang yesterday, for being treated like a child, and her shame at her wasted trip to Nottingham, made her defensive. "You lied yesterday when you sent me for water. You didn't need water. And the truth is, you didn't need me."
"So now we're back to where we started yesterday. I told you I was sorry."
"When? I haven't heard you apologize."
"Maybe you were too drunk."
"Is that what you think of me? That I'm a drunkard?"
"You think I'm a lecher. Seems only fair."
"How dare you? I shouldn't have come back last night. I should have stayed in Nottingham."
"With Gisbourne, you mean?"
"Grow up."
"That's what this is really about, isn't it? You miss Gisbourne."
Marian uttered an exasperated groan. "You are impossible, Robin of Locksley."
"You don't deny it."
"If you think that..."
Robin felt his anger melt away as quickly as it had flared up. She was staring at him with wide, hurt eyes. Closing the distance between them, he reached for her to fold her in his arms.
She pulled away. "No," she said. "Don't touch me. Leave me alone."
