Marian awoke early the following morning to see Robin putting on his cape in preparation to leave the camp. Everyone else still slept.

"Robin," she whispered. "Where are you going?"

"Hunting," he whispered back, picking up his bow. "I thought Much could use a break, after all he did for me these past few days. And...somewhere else first."

His secrecy intrigued her. Rising from her bunk, she stepped into her boots and approached him. "I like to hunt," she reminded him.

He hesitated, which intrigued her more. What was he hiding?

"Well, then," he decided at last. "Let's be off. Shall we?"

Excitedly, she pulled on her cape and grabbed the bow Will had made for her.

Daybreak had dawned chilly with patches of fog. Robin led her hurriedly through the forest. It was exhilarating to be running after him on an unknown errand. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Nearly there," he answered, turning his face back to smile over his shoulder.

At last he stopped at a place she had never been before. Thick forest vines made a curtain, almost a wall, before them. Parting them, he took a quick look inside, then beckoned her to follow him.

Stepping through, Marian found herself in what she first thought was just another area of forest. But suddenly, the sun broke through, burning off the fog, and she gasped in amazement.

"It's ...it's like a church," she said.

"It's my chapel," Robin answered simply, with just a touch of defensiveness, as if he did not want to be mocked.

There was a hushed air of mystery to this place. The trees overhead almost seemed to form a dome, while smaller trees grew on either side of what could be considered an aisle. At its end stood a large, ancient, rectangular stone, topped by a wooden cross.

"Robin, why didn't you marry Beatrice to John of York here? This is a beautiful spot for a wedding."

Her words made both of them embarrassed, each of them thinking of another possible wedding. Recovering himself, Robin answered, "It's selfish, I know, but I couldn't share this with anyone. It's my own private place. I come here to be alone, to pray and to think."

"So, not even Much knows about it?"

He nodded his head.

"Yet you're sharing it with me. Thank you."

She didn't know why she felt so emotional. Perhaps it was her mention of weddings.

"It's good to pray before battle," Robin said.

"Are we going to battle?"

"Probably not today. But we are resuming our work, and you know how trouble comes looking for me."

Rolling her eyes, she asked, "Will I be included?"

"You'll have a job," he told her, with a wink. Then, almost shyly, he asked, "Pray with me?"

Side by side, they got on their knees before the stone altar. Crossing themselves, they each began to silently pray.

Neither one could pray effectively. Both kept stealing glances at each other, imagining this was truly a wedding.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," Robin said at last, crossing himself again.

Standing, he held out his hand to Marian after she had crossed herself. All he could think as she stood before him were the words, "You may kiss the bride." And so, leaning down, he kissed her with a joyful bridegroom's kiss.

Rather than picking up his bow, he surprised Marian by sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her out of his "chapel," through the vines.

"What are you doing?" she asked, laughing.

"I want to kiss you again," he answered, grinning, "but the way I want to kiss you wouldn't be appropriate in church."

"I thought we were going hunting, Robin of Locksley."

"First things first." He snickered, then turned serious when he lay her down upon the ground. "I love you," he told her.

"I love you," she whispered back.

They resumed the loving they had begun the day before, but without Robin removing his shirt, for the morning was chilly. But Marian pushed her hands up under it, caressing his body with trembling fingertips.

Marian grew more and more breathless, more and more excited, until she felt Robin try to take an additional liberty he had not tried before. She felt his hand touch her inner thigh, massaging it and inching higher and higher up her leg.

Without breaking from their kiss, she removed his hand from her thigh.

The kiss ended, and Robin breathlessly told her again, "I love you, Marian." As he kissed her breast he placed his hand on her inner thigh again.

Warning bells rang out in Marian's mind, even as her body was aching to give in. Pushing him from her, she sat up, fuming with passion and with anger.

Robin rolled over onto his back. Heaving a sigh, he looked up at her, wearing a smile half wicked, half sheepish.

Marian wanted to slap that smile right off his handsome face. And then, suddenly, she began to cry.

"Marian," Robin said, alarmed, sitting up and reaching to hold her.

She turned her back to him and sat, hugging her knees to her chest.

"I'm sorry, my love," Robin said, sincerely. "I meant no disrespect."

He was too good at this, she realized, angrily. He had done this before. "Just because we live like animals in the forest," she said, through clenched teeth, "does not mean we have to behave like animals."

"No, of course not." Robin almost seemed at a loss for words. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "It won't happen again."

"That's right, it won't. None of it will happen. Ever again."