Robin ran upstairs to his bedchamber, the suite of rooms he shared with his wife.

Stopping in the doorway, he ached when he saw Marian studying her face in her new mirror.

She looked inexpressibly sad, and Robin cursed himself for having caused her sorrow.

Staring deeply at her reflection, Marian was reproaching herself for being so bold, so willful and disagreeable, always arguing with a husband who was the kindest, bravest man she had ever known.

"Two foxes in a sack," Much had accused, and Marian believed he was right.

She needed to change. She wanted to make Robin as happy as he made her. Having heard his footsteps on the stairs, Marian put down her mirror and turned to face him.

"You're getting rusty," she teased him sadly. "A year ago, you would have snuck up on me without making a sound."

"A year ago I was an outlaw, and I wouldn't want you anywhere near this room."

Marian shuddered. As wonderful as it was living in Locksley Manor, there were times when she couldn't forget that Guy of Gisbourne had only recently slept here.

"I'm sorry, my love," Robin said, realizing his mistake. "I shouldn't have said that. And I shouldn't have let you win today. I'm a fool."

"No, you're not!"

His self-reproach stung Marian, making her remember all the times she'd called him that, throwing the word "Fool" in his face when she really thought he was a hero.

"I was today," Robin admitted, closing the gap between them and taking her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Marian. You shot beautifully. I should have done the same."

"You were trying to be kind." Hearing his light chuckle, she stiffened and pulled away. "What's so funny?" she asked, sounding in her ears as if she was accusing him of wrongdoing.

Robin smiled adoringly back at her. "Here we are arguing again," he said, his voice like warm honey. "What was it Much called us?"

Marian did not share his amusement. "Two foxes in a sack," she reminded him, stiffly.

Robin chuckled again, then gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. He stopped himself from making a cheeky comment about how much fun that could be, noting how unhappy and serious his wife was. Gazing searchingly into her eyes, he gently asked, "What's this really about?"

Marian shook her head. She couldn't admit how right she found Much's words. Her father, a good, kind, mild man, had loved her completely, yet he'd had to warn her over and over that she was bold and spoke when she shouldn't.

She believed that she was the one who needed to grow up, another accusation she used to fling in Robin's face. Well, it was her birthday, after all.

"Another year older," she lied, surprising him. "That's all. I suppose I'm vain."

"You are not vain, even if I did catch you staring at yourself in the mirror," he teased. "And you're not old. I'm not, and I'm older than you are."

"Not by much!"

She'd done it again...argued with him when there was no cause. Marian bit her tongue, wishing she could take it back.

But Robin seemed amused. He winked at her, looking both adorable and sexy. "Only two years apart now, since it's your birthday. Yesterday it was three. You always did like to make that distinction, when we were children."

He was holding her, stroking her hair. Marian wanted to shut out the rest of the world and just stay here with Robin, forgetting herself by loving him. She wanted him to make her toes curl again, the way he had last night. There was no one but themselves in the house, which was a welcome rarity. She could easily convince him, but that would be boldness again, and she needed to guard herself against being bold.

Unknown to her, Robin's thoughts were traveling a similar route. His desire for his wife was hot, yet he fought against it, believing her still unhappy from his deliberate loss at archery. He held her gently, tenderly, wanting her to be happy again.

"Your party's not over," he reminded her. "Shall we go back and join the fun?"

Marian nodded, wanting to kiss him.

Her sadness was ridiculous and selfish, she angrily told herself. Willfully banishing it, she gave Robin a subdued smile.

"Whatever you want, my husband," she answered him, meekly.

Robin appeared surprised, then amused, thinking she must be teasing him. His grin was like the sun breaking through clouds. "Well then, my wife," he jested, offering his arm, "allow me to escort you."