Think of England:
Marian finds herself in the deep end of the pool.
Early summer warmth gave way to storms that tore blooms from their stems and sent the inhabitants of Nottingham scurrying for shelter. The castle was stocked and secured while guards and maids alike hurried about their duties, eager to huddle by a bright fire.
Marian looked through a thin slit at the sheets of rain and bending trees. A dull shiver crept up her arms as a gust peppered her with fine mist. The damp chased the heat from the stone walls and left behind a sticky sheen on everything not near a well fed fire.
"You must thank Sir Guy, my dear," Edward chirped from his well stuffed chair. "He checks the fire every day and sends someone round every few hours to tend it. You see how I am never without good logs?"
Marian rubbed her brow. "Yes, father. I shall thank him for you when I see him," she replied. Again. Edward had taken to repeating himself.
"And when do you expect to see him? I should like to thank him myself but I do not wish to divert him."
She closed the shutter and lowered the tapestry into place. "Soon." Marian absently tidied the desk. Such a disarray these days. "Later today, I think."
"Good, good." His eyes sharpened. "And have you seen the sheriff?"
Marian looked up, curious at the change in his tone, then carefully set the ink pot in its box. "No," she said. "I heard he has been with Prince John, though that was days ago. It seems they have been quite… occupied."
Edward smiled.
…
The storms left the roads around Nottingham impassable, and the servants found themselves accommodating what were visitors to the castle as longer term guests. Marian herself was called upon to organize the staff and she threw herself into the task, unwilling to give Vaisey a new target.
She had enough targets on her back already and, if Marian had more than a few moments of peace, she would have admitted that Guy, too, would be vulnerable.
More vulnerable.
"You, there," Marian called to the first passing guard in black and yellow, grateful for the distraction. The three maids walking with her all twittered when he bowed to them.
Marian sighed. "Tell Lord Winchester that his rooms are prepared. We will eat at seven in the main hall, or he may take a meal in his rooms."
"Yes, my lady."
The guard turned to go. Marian was about to call for her next task when she stopped.
"Wait!"
He turned instantly. "Yes, my lady?"
"How bad is it? The roads?"
The guard shrugged. "No carts or carriages for three, maybe four days, my lady, but a skilled rider can pass through the woods if he's careful."
Marian nodded and turned back to the maids. "My thanks. Please, don't let me keep you further."
"Yes, my lady."
…
Not wanting to crease her dress, Marian stood in her father's apartments. Part of her plan to deflect attention from herself and Guy involved playing her part well, which meant wearing dresses she normally would not and pretending to enjoy it. There was entirely too much skin on display for her comfort.
"Are you quite certain you won't join us for dinner? You look like you are feeling well."
Edward chuckled and patted her arm as he passed. "No my dear. One of the advantages of slowly dying is that you are finally allowed to enjoy the good times. I don't want to ruin it by sitting on a hard chair with people I dislike eating food I dislike and then feeling terrible for it the next day."
With an unladylike snort, Marian pulled out her father's desk chair and helped him sit. "In that, I envy you."
Edward looked up, his eyes bright. "Do not, child." He took her hand and clasped it in his. "Pity me, perhaps. But do not envy me, child."
Marian hated how gray he had become despite the warmth of the room. She gently squeezed his hand and could feel the delicate bones beneath his thin skin, then knelt to kiss his forehead.
"Then I shall love you."
Edward smiled. "A man could do far worse. Now, off with you. Go be a charming host to all those snakes. Any news on when they might leave?"
"I was told that carriages might leave in three or four days," Marian said as she poured Edward a cupful of water from a pitcher. "But a good rider could come by the forest today."
Edward's face turned dreamy and Marian knew he might drift for hours. "Good. Good. Yes, then I must tend my work, dear. Give my excuses to Sir Guy."
As Sir Edward took up his quill and opened the inkpot, Marian quietly slipped from the room.
…
None of the visitors to the castle were married, and thus Marian felt as though she dined amidst a sea of serpents. She nudged her chair closer to Guy while Winchester's head was turned.
"I do not like him," she whispered at his ear, plastering a smile on her face.
"No one does," he whispered back. "But the sheriff needs his signature, and that is why we will pretend." Guy paused, and Marian watched his eyes flicker over her, lingering. "You are lovely tonight. Tell me if you get cold?"
A touch at her arm. Marian looked down and saw his hand, relaxed and loose, on his armrest. A guard approached and bowed to Guy as he made a quick report.
She could ignore it, or pretend she did not see it.
A servant cleared a platter and set a dish of strawberries over delicate pastry before them. Unable to help herself, Marian leaned for a better look. A few feet away, on Guy's other side, she caught sight of Winchester's leering gaze and sat back quickly. When she glanced over once more, there was speculation in those eyes.
Guy's hand remained, waiting.
More boldly than she felt, Marian brushed her fingertips along his arm and felt his swift inhale at her shoulder. The conversation between Guy and the guard ended abruptly and Marian slipped her fingers between his. Guy turned partway, his face softened with the tiniest smile.
Winchester raised an eyebrow. "You and your lady are handsome together, Sir Guy. Have you scheduled the wedding?"
Sharp words were forming on Marian's tongue when Guy spoke. "With the sheriff away and her father quite ill, it has been… challenging."
"But not challenged?" Winchester looked about the room. "I heard there was a prior claim?"
Guy gripped her hand. A muscle pulsed in his jaw, even though he stroked her wrist with his thumb.
"A betrothal arranged in childhood and later abandoned."
Marian looked down. It was a harsh summation, no matter how accurate.
Winchester raised his goblet. "To you, Lady Marian. You are as lovely as your mother ever was."
As the table toasted her, Marian glanced around, nodding in turn, and finished by offering a slight bow to Winchester, as much as she hated to.
Knowing how it would look, but unwilling to appear anything but happily betrothed, Marian leaned forward once more, holding fast to Guy's hand with one hand as she reached into the dish of sweets with the other. She retrieved one with a delicate slice of berry on top and held it out to Guy.
"My lord," she said, loud enough for a few to hear. For a brief moment, Guy looked unsure. She was not prone to blatant display, public or private, and they'd shared only a kiss.
Marian flicked her eyes towards where Winchester sat and willed Guy to understand. No matter what she felt, she needed his protection, so she smiled softly and craned her neck to whisper, "He's watching."
"I'm sure he is," Guy whispered back, and he chuckled as though she'd told him a secret, then plucked the sweet from her fingers with his mouth. His eyes were liquid as he looked at her and kissed her fingertips.
Marian's breath caught in her throat, but their playacting had the desired effect. The table was murmuring appreciatively, and Winchester's face was red.
"I should like to see my father before he retires, Sir Guy," Marian announced. "Will you escort me to his rooms?"
Guy rose quickly. He ignored the whistles and catcalls. "Duty calls, my lords. I will return once I'm finished with my… errand."
…
They were silent through the first few passages to Edward's chambers. Guy held up a lamp against the darkness. Not quite enough light to brighten the cold rock, but enough to chase the emptiness and warm the gray stones to a dull gold.
It was Guy who broke the quiet. "I'm sorry, Marian. Once the sheriff returns, Winchester will meet with him and then leave. No more than a few days more and… and I'll make sure you're never alone with him. I'll plan some excuses that keep him occupied."
"Thank you," Marian said gratefully. He offered much effort in return for so little.
Thinking, Marian slowed her walk. "How did you find the sweet?"
Guy's boot suddenly scuffed, breaking his stride. "I liked it very much, but," he paused, and Marian turned.
The lamp gilded Guy's edges, illuminating his profile. "But what?"
He cupped her elbow and drew her closer. "There is something I like better."
A feather touch, so light Marian thought she'd imagined it. So light she sought it again to be sure it was real. Tremors in Guy's lips, a quaking in his breaths. His hand at her cheek, warm and roughened with work. A firmer touch, another. A tiny pull at her lower lip where he'd held it between his.
"Marian…"
His lips were at the bridge of her nose. His free hand traced the plait in her hair, the side of her neck, and skipped along the edge of her gown there.
"Please, Marian," Guy rasped. Words ground through gravel and blown by wind.
"Guy," Marian struggled against forces she had no name for. "I… I must see my father."
A sigh, though by the lamp Marian could see him smile, lips traced with light. Another kiss, now on her forehead, then her cheek.
"Come. I'm sure he's eager to see you."
…
As Guy bid Marian good night and instructed the guard to escort her to her rooms in a half hour, Marian realized the words he'd said.
Please, Marian.
It was an entreaty. Perhaps a question.
Please Marian.
Though, thought of a little differently, it might have also been a command.
…
Marian had only begun to greet her father and tell of Winchester's visit when a knock came at the door.
"I have a half hour," Marian called. "Please wait."
More knocking, louder. Marian growled and stomped across the room and hauled open the door.
"I can't have been more than five minutes. Guy specifically said I had a half hour!"
The guard guffawed.
From behind her, Marian could hear her father's wheezing laughter.
"What is going on?" she demanded.
The guard bent over and the helmet plopped into his hands. "Well, I'd hoped to be more dignified when I came this time, but here I am." Robin scrubbed a hand through his flopping hair and grinned.
Marian covered her mouth with surprise. "Father?" She turned, and Edward's smile did not reach his eyes for a moment. He reached out for her and Marian went to him.
At her ear. "His truth may not be yours. Take care."
Behind her, the helmet was set on the desk. When she turned, Marian saw that a quill was crushed under a metal edge.
"Welcome back, Sir Hood!" Marian said brightly. Robin opened his arms and she let herself be wrapped in his embrace. Lean and wiry. For the first time that she could recall, she did not lean into him. "And where have you been these long weeks?"
Robin's playful grin hardened. "I have been delivering letters."
"Letters?" Marian looked at her father. Edward nodded, his eyes holding the same message of caution.
Robin gripped her upper arms. "The King has sent word that the nobles are to prepare for his return. Quietly, no fanfare. I have delivered your father's missives to all the houses loyal to Richard."
Marian smiled. "That's wonderful. All of England will rejoice!"
"We have been blessed, Marian! Only a few more months. Your father says Richard may arrive as soon as Christmas this year."
Edward coughed.
"Indeed," Marian began carefully, affixing her smile. "Joyous news!"
Robin lowered his eyes and took her hands. "Sweet Marian," he said softly. "I have put you through so much. Said, done things that wronged you. But, see, we can be together soon. Can you bear it? Just until Christmas? When the king returns, I will be pardoned and restored, your father will be sheriff again, and everything can be as it should!"
Tears stung Marian's eyes, blurring her vision. Blurred, but not blind.
She swallowed her anger, her frustration at having to stay silent, to not point out how much of this dream was fantasy. Cobwebs to be cleared.
Robin mistook her tears and silence for joy, grabbing her into a tight hug. "I know! It is the most wonderful thing." He lifted her up and swung her around like she was a girl. "Marian, I have dreamed of this for so long. Say you'll wait for me. Promise me that we'll have the life we planned."
Marian was unable to do anything but hold on until he set her on her feet. When he did, she could see Edward's face over Robin's shoulder.
He gave her a grim nod.
"Of course, Robin. When the king returns. I will marry you when the king returns."
…
When Robin delivered her to her door, giddy and altogether too nimble for a guard, Marian was able to bid him goodnight with a smile. As soon as the door closed, she leaned against it heavily.
Time passed whether one was in the room or not. It seemed Robin had not noticed her father's condition, nor her weary care of him.
Marian prepared for bed and slid into the cool linens. From her opened windows she watched men walking the walls, torches bobbing with their strides like fireflies, throwing light and shadows in stark relief as the guards passed between partitions.
Like lamplight on gray walls. Like golden light tracing the edge of a kiss.
It was late into the night when Marian drifted into an uneasy sleep filled with arrows and the clash of swords.
...