For a minute, Rob just stood there, struggling to make sense of the situation. Then the realisation hit, and, for the shortest second looked almost worried - and then he laughed. "Ain't my fault, I've been locked up all night, they've only just let me out."

I grinned with the relief of diffused responsibility, feeling suddenly light and young and wonderfully, wonderfully free. "It's alright, I suppose it was all just a mistake. You don't mind delaying the trial, just until you get back from London, do you William?" His jaw moved in protest, but my smile stopped him, "Good. And there's no sense in locking poor Rob up until then - after all, nobody was hurt." I addressed Rob directly for the first time, "You can stay at the keep until then. I don't know if you want to come back to work, but we don't have a stable boy and I'm sure my brother would agree..."

"You're sure? I know what I did was really out of order, and-"

"Oh well that makes it all fine then, doesn't it?" William's voice dripped with sarcasm, "Are you mad? He tried to kill you!"

"No I didn't, not proper."

"Shut up, whelp, I wasn't talking to you."

"Don't talk to me like that you-"

"It's been a long morning." My surprisingly well-timed interruption actually managed to silence both William and Rob, "We should go home. Besides, William, you said you had things to do...and you're leaving tomorrow, you ought to prepare."

He nodded, mute and defeated. Rob shot him a look that clearly said, "Nah-nah-nee-nah-nah." Seriously. I'm surrounded by fools.

Before I left, William grabbed hold of my hand, and kissed it lightly, whispering, "I'll visit before tomorrow...I don't trust that peasant, and neither should you."

I smiled, pretending I hadn't noticed the bitterness in his voice, "It's so kind of you to be so concerned with my safety. But, I assure you, I know perfectly well who I can trust."

The tragedy of it being that I didn't, not at all, and I still don't - not even now. Without getting all retrospective and analytical of the unbearable lightness of the human condition, if there's one thing I've learnt about life, it's that the people you expect to be around when you need them are almost invariably not...and the people you'd never want to count on tend to be the people who are.

The walk home was like being unexpectedly released from prison, and suddenly I felt so much younger, and so much more myself than I'd felt since long before I was packed off to London. If it was a Disney film, at this point Rob and I would have burst into song. But it was real life, and for the most part we sauntered along in relative silence, which I broke only by trying to make light conversation about his adventures in the Holy Land.

"Not much to tell, honestly...mostly it was just being hungry, thirsty and too hot."

I imagined poor Will in some sweltering hot desert, slowly starving to death. "How's my brother?"

"We were ambushed. He shouted at me to get out - and I did, just - but he was injured." The colour drained from my face, and Rob's eyes - usually the colour of Sherwood in Summer, a sort of dark green-hazel, went almost tar-black - "His leg...but he's alive. He's comin' home."

The idea of Will being home flashed through my mind, distracting me - maybe he'd be home for Christmas...we could roast chestnuts at the fire and drink mulled wine, and William would mellow out a bit, agree to a snowball fight...and then the dizzy reality struck that I'd probably be obliged to spend Christmas with William's family, at Ludlow, his dreary property in Shropshire, where as far as I knew there were only sheep, peasants and occasional battles with the bordering Welsh.

"So...how've the horses been?"

Clearly, we were struggling to make conversation. The year between us had defined us now as belonging in two entirely separate worlds - his was one where chivalrous knights fought to keep the faith in the Holy Land under a sweltering sun...and mine was where Christmas was spent in Shropshire. "As far as I know...well, enough. I just thought I'd walk today because it was a beautiful day, and I wasn't sure if-" you'd be coming back with me. This, however, was too callous to escape my lips, and I let the rest fade.

"Home." Rob grinned as the keep came back into view. Yes. Home. Sweet home.

We ate a simple supper that evening, of thick slices of bread and autumn fruit, washed down with red wine, and for the first time in so, so long it was just me and Rob - everything felt real, because I wasn't playing the part of a sophisticated party-girl and he wasn't playing boy-hero, we weren't even playing lady of the manor and stable-boy, because that evening even that felt contrived: it was just a boy and a girl who knew each other for a long, long time, eating supper in front of a roaring fire on a beautiful autumn day.

I was feeling pleasantly drowsy and just gazing into the fire, thinking, "this is quite nice, actually." when Rob interupted my thoughts with an inconvenient question. "So...why are you with that prick?"

I laughed involuntarily, forgetting myself.

And then I remembered Rob was really just a servant, and I was supposed to be committing the rest of my life to William - who still hadn't really done anything wrong.

"He's...sweet."

"You mean rich."

"It's none of your business." I slurped down the last dregs of my wine, feeling all morally superior and outraged.

"Yes, it is. I promised your brother I'd look after you...and he's a twat, anybody can see that. You can do better."

"You've had too much wine."

"No, I ain't...well, maybe a bit. But I'm right. When I was away, I was thinking..."

Without realising it, we'd become less than an inch apart, and everything - the hurt and the longing, and the relief of him being here, finally, came flooding back...and then slowly, so very slowly, his lips were touching mine, and we were kissing.