Characters: Robin, Marian, mentions Isabella and Guy.

Disclaimer: All original characters belong to BBC/Tiger Aspect. No monies being made.

Summary: What if Marian had married Guy at the end of S2, thinking Robin dead? Marian still loves Robin, Isabella is as mischievous as ever.

A/N: So the last chapter is here – finally. Thank you to everyone who has been reading and/or commenting. I have appreciated all your kind words and encouragement. Sorry it has taken me so long to finish this, but here we are at last! Thank you most of all to my lovely friend, jadey36, for encouraging and inspiring me to write in the first place, reading through this chapter and always being there for me.

Sins of the Heart Part Eleven

Two Years Later.

Marian knelt before the altar, crossed herself, and moved to take her place in the pews whilst the priest said mass. She stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed on the crucifix above the altar and Christ's crown of thorns, red paint liberally daubed where the crown gauged into the carving's forehead.

The ritual was the same as ever. Marian watched the priest hold the bread aloft, say those special words, replying in unison with the other nuns.

'Ecce Agnus Dei, ecce qui tollit peccàta mundi. Beàti qui ad cenam Agni.'

This is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to his supper.

The priest had a rich, deep voice, it reminded Marian of Guy's voice. Though the two men could hardly have been more different in every other respect.

'Dòmine, non sum dignus, ut intres, sub tectum meum, sed tantum dic, verbo et sanàbitur ànima mea.'

Lord I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.

Marian's answer was heartfelt. She prayed for forgiveness night and day. She prayed to be healed. As she rose from her knees to receive the body and blood of Christ, Marian offered up another silent prayer that today would be the day when the Lord let her feel his mercy.

Marian had stayed kneeling before the altar long after her sisters had departed to begin their day's work. She lit two candles at the stand beside a smaller altar to the right hand side of the main altar and offered up a prayer. She was praying for Guy, for his soul and its eternal peace. Also for Robin, for his heart, that is might be healed, and his safety. She had heard the rumours, even here, that King Richard had returned and had laid siege to Nottingham Castle. This news had shaken Marian out of the melancholy routine of prayer and work she had fallen into since joining the convent two years ago. Her work nursing the sick was satisfying and useful, but nothing could lift the grief from her heart and bring back some of her old spirit.

But the news of the King's return . . . something stirred in Marian now. She had fought it for the last two weeks. That something, that adventurous, passionate spirit has caused enough damage. She, and everyone else, was better off if she remained in the convent, nursing the sick and serving God.

As Marian made her way to the infirmary to begin her chores she found herself hoping for a visitor from the north with news from Nottingham. She was not disappointed.

'Marian, thank the Lord you are here,' Sister Joan cried. Joan was young and sweet-natured, but in no way well disposed to care for the sick, being somewhat prone to panic and unusually squeamish. 'This gentleman did fall from his horse, his wrist is all black and bruised. I don't dare touch it for fear of breaking it in two.'

'Let me, Joan, fetch me some clean bandages and a cloth. And wine for the gentleman too.' Marian smiled kindly at the girl as she scurried off. She then turned to the man lying on the bed. 'I am Sister Marian, there is no need to fear, we will sort you out in no time.' She smiled as the man nodded. He was well dressed for a merchant and immediately Marian wondered if he was well-heeled enough to have news directly from the nobles of the King and Robin.

'No need to worry,' Marian assured as she examined the man's injury, 'nothing broken, just bruising. It looks bad, but should heal quickly.'

'Fell from my horse, damn beast. I would've blamed outlaws for spooking it, but Robin Hood no longer robs these woods.'

'Oh?' Marian said, trying and failing to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

'You haven't heard? Robin of Locksley has been restored to his lands and title by the King. King Richard holds Nottingham and it is with thanks to Robin Hood that he does. I have never seen the people so happy in all my born years. So the sooner you can fix me up the better, then I can get back and sell my goods to the people whilst they're still in a good mood.'

'Robin is now restored? You are sure?'

'Yes, Earl of Huntingdon, Lord of Locksley and most likely Sheriff of Nottingham soon too.'

'And his men are all safe too?'

'As far as I know. You sound as if you know them?'

'We were acquainted some time ago. And what of Lady Isabella and Prince John?' Marian tried to keep her voice causal as Joan handed her the bandages.

'I know nothing of Lady Isabella, but Prince John has fled to France. And good riddance to the scoundrel, nothing but a preening ninny, that one. I just hope the King doesn't hot foot it back overseas now too.'

'But things will be well with Robin in charge, he is a good and fair man.' Marian pictured his smiling face as she spoke, she could see him so vividly in her mind's eye and tried to concentrate on bandaging the bruised wrist of the traveller.

'We'll see, a noble's a noble as far as I can see, they'll all want their taxes.'

'But Robin has spent years in the forest fighting for the poor, feeding them, bringing them medicine,' Marian felt her voice rising slightly as she spoke. 'He has sacrificed everything he had for the people.'

'Sounds like you know him better than I,' the man replied, acquiescing to her obvious passion on the subject. 'I hope you are right. Ah, that feels better. You're a dab hand at this,' he commented, holding up his tightly bandaged wrist.

'You will need to stay here tonight, eat and rest, then tomorrow you can be on your way.'

'Thank you.'

Marian turned to leave, but before she did she stopped, addressed the man again. 'You are sure the Lady Isabella is not with Robin?'

'My, you're the most inquisitive nun I've ever met!' the man laughed. 'You thinking of leaving the nunnery and making a play for him?' Marian blushed deeply, hung her head in shame. She should not care who Robin was with, she had renounced him and every other man. And yet, she could not shake off the seed of hope that was now sown, that would be dashed if Isabella had claimed her place in his heart.

'Forgive me, Sir,' Marian demurred. 'I forget my place.'

'No matter,' the man smiled kindly. 'There are only men in Hood's gang, no ladies. They say the woman who stole his heart is dead and gone and that none can replace her.' The man laid his head back, clearly tired from his exertions. He sighed as Marian tucked the blanket around him. 'Shame really, I think there's plenty a pretty lass who'd have him too. Ah, well, money and power will have to suffice if his love has been lost. I daresay he'll do alright, many have before him.'

Marian nodded and took her leave. She hurried back to the cloisters and took refuge beside the little side altar where she had lit her candles. One for Guy's spirit, one for Robin's. She knelt on the stone floor and crossed herself, pretending to be at prayer. But her mind was racing, as was her heart.

Nottingham was free. Robin was free. Robin was restored to his rightful lands and title Isabella was not with him. Marian had always known deep down she could not stay in this place forever. There were days, especially in the beginning, when her grief overwhelmed her, when her husband's face haunted her every step, when she was consumed by guilt and self-loathing.

But time was great healer, as were work and prayer. She and Guy had wronged each other, both were victims of fortunes beyond their control. She would never forget him, but the pain was easing, she was learning to live with what had happened. And then there was Robin. Try as she might she could not forget him. It was now his face that haunted her days and nights, especially since the news of the King's return.

A thought, he might not want her anymore. He might hate her for what she had done, for marrying Guy, for growing to love Guy.

No, Robin would never hate her. But perhaps he had grown indifferent to her. That would be worse, to know he was in the world, yet spared no thought for her, the woman who loved him and held him in her thoughts night and day.

Marian checked herself. Thinking about Robin, and the path those thoughts often led down, was unseemly in the house of God. She pushed him out of her mind and began to pray, the words spoken softly under her breath, comfortingly familiar and a balm to her uneasy spirit.

'Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in . . .'

Marian spent the rest of the week in much the same way, praying and anxiously awaiting news from Nottingham as she went about her duties in the infirmary. The routine of the convent never differed, the outside world could turn inside out before the Abbess would acknowledge it. Mere kings of men and

It was therefore more of a surprise when Marian found herself called before the Abbess one Thursday, shortly after the main meal of the day had been served.

'Do you know why I have called you here, child?' the Abbess asked, her face made all the more severe by the habit that pinched her cheeks. Marian supposed it must make her face appear similar, she didn't know as the sisters at the convent had no mirrors, God cared not for their worldly appearance, after all. .

'I do not know, Mother Elisa,' Marian said, trying not to sound too curious.

'Really?' The Abbess gazed sternly at Marian, apparently unconvinced by her answer. 'You have received no contact, no letters, no messages?'

'No, I have received nothing. I have no family as you know.'

'No suitor?'

'No, I am a bride of Christ,' Marian replied, all the while her heart beating faster, the slim hope growing within her.

'Sit, child. I have been loath to attend to this at all, but this man will not be deterred.'

'Man?' Marian put her hand to her mouth, surely there was only one man who would seek her out.

'Robin of Locksley, he has called here every day this week.'

Whatever the Abbess said next was lost on Marian, whose face had broken into a broad grin. Marian felt a swoop of excitement in her stomach, a fluttering deep within her. He was here, Robin was here. She remembered his face, his brilliant blue eyes, his warm smile spreading across his handsome features, making them even more desirable. She had never told him how much she loved to see him smile, how it gave her butterflies in her stomach, even when she was professing annoyance.

'Marian!' the Abbess snapped with some irritation. 'I will not have the seclusion and peace of this convent disturbed by a man, I don't care how much the King favours him, I do not. Is that understood?'

'Yes, Mother.'

'So you will go and tell this man that you have given yourself to God and send him on his way. It seems he will not take my word on the matter. Not that I expect anymore of an outlaw.'

Marian's annoyance at Robin being described in such terms barely had time to register, nor did her excitement at the prospect of seeing the man she had long since resigned herself to losing.

Mother Elisa took two quick strides to the other door in the room and opened it.

There he was, tall and handsome, with a fire burning in his blue eyes. His hair was almost in his eyes, but it was clean and shiny. Marian's eyes darted to his neck, she saw the small curls at the nape were still there and inwardly smiled, remembering how she loved to play with them as they embraced after making love. His stubble was short and neatly trimmed, but otherwise his face was the same, hardship and battle had not altered it.

His clothes were different though. He wore a rich tunic of deep green, with brown and gold embroidery. His leather jerkin was brown and intricately decorated. His breeches and boots were also new and expensive looking, as was the travelling cloak he had over his arm.

'Marian,' Robin said, his face breaking into a warm smile. Marian caught his eye, she guessed he hadn't meant to walk in grinning, but he couldn't help himself, nor could she. She returned his smile with one of her own, before checking herself and rearranging her face.

'This gentleman claims you are betrothed to him, is this true?' the Abbess interrupted, rudely startling Marian back to her present situation.

'I was once,' Marian admitted.

'I understood you to be the widow of Sir Guy of Gisborne, pray tell me how you can be engaged to this man when you were so recently robbed of your husband before arriving here?'

'We were betrothed long ago, before I was married to Sir Guy.' Marian's heart sank at the mention of Guy, the guilt was still there, telling her she should never look at a man again, never mind the one standing before her, the one sending shivers down her spine.

'There, you have it, Sister Marian says you are not betrothed, you have no claim on her.'

The Abbess spoke triumphantly to Robin. Robin ignored her and spoke directly to Marian, taking a few steps closer to her. He smelled of perfume, musky, like the richest nobles. She suspected the King had showered him with luxuries since taking the castle.

'Marian, I need to speak with you, the King has returned, he has taken the castle. I am no longer an outlaw, I have had my lands and title restored. Richard has also pardoned my men and settled livings on all of them. Those who fought for Robin Hood are free.' Robin paused, letting the meaning of this statement sink in. Marian was numb, it was all too much, too good to be true. It was everything that she had spent years hoping and praying or.

'That means you are free,' Robin continued. 'You are free, Marian. If you leave here there is no-one to hunt you down, they are gone,' Robin was speaking very quickly, he had knelt beside her to look her in the eyes. 'You can come home, my love, come home to me.'

There was hope in his eyes, shining out at her. His face was pleading as he took her hand in his own.

'I have never stopped loving you, there has not been a day I have not thought of you. Marian, I can offer you now what I could not before – a home, a future. I know that is what you want.'

'It is all so fast,' Marian stammered. The touch of his hand in hers was sending tingling sensations up her arm. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and a creeping pulse of excitement between her legs that had not stirred for a long time.

'Of course,' Robin replied, bowing his head. 'You need time to think. I understand.'

'She has pledged her life to God,' the Abbess interrupted, her pinched face pink with annoyance. 'Who do you think you are, harassing a sister of this order in this manner with your worldly promises? Do not think your charms will work here, outlaw!'

Robin stood up and backed off. Marian could tell by the severity of the gaze upon her that her mother superior did not believe for a minute that she was impervious to Robin's charms. Marian knew the blush in her cheeks gave her away, as did the longing in her eyes.

'Think about it,' Robin mouthed. Then he grinned, that beautiful, delicious, infuriating and irresistible grin. 'I will be back,' he whispered, darting forwards to swiftly kiss Marian's cheek, before backing out of the room as the Abbess turned on him in anger.

Robin may have made off before the wrath of the Abbess could be unleashed, but Marian could not. Typical Robin, she thought angrily as she lay shivering that night, banished to the cold and empty stable as punishment for 'encouraging male ardour and flaunting her womanly goods'. Marian was angry, having had to endure the ensuing tirade, whilst Robin disappeared as usual, leaving others to face the consequences. No, that was unfair. Robin had kissed her because he couldn't help himself. Just like she couldn't help longing for him to do it again.

Marian's head was swirling. Her heart was crying out for Robin, as was her body, but her head was telling her no. This was her punishment, as the Abbess had cruelly reminded her. Women like her could not be trusted in the world. Women like her deserved to be locked up. Women like her would go to Hell unless they repented for the rest of their days.

Adulteress, liar, whore, jezebel.

Marian has been called as these and worse, and as she hung her head in shame she recalled the empty, painful grief of Guy's death. The aching guilt that consumed her.

'Your husband is the only man God intended to know you,' the Abbess had said.

Guy had known her, and loved her. He had, in his own way, adored her beyond reason. He had died for her. She owed it to him to be loyal to his memory.

As she drew the thin blanket closer around her Marian remembered how Guy would envelope her in a warm embrace on cold nights and how she, after spurning him all day, would curl into his body gratefully, kidding herself it was the warmth she craved. But as soon as he kissed her, in the darkness of their bed, when she could forget the brutal man who worked for the Sheriff, Marian had been lost. Then afterwards he would whisper words of love and endearment. Words she never returned until it was too late.

A tear escaped, tracing a cool path down her check before pooling on the hand under her head. She would never forgive herself, she would never be free, it was her cross to bear for her wickedness and sin.

As Marian remembered her last moments with Guy, when she had at last spoken the words of love a wife should, another memory sprang forth.

'Promise me you will look after Marian . . . Just look after her and love her, as she deserves to be loved.'

The words Guy had spoken to Robin, his sworn enemy, but the man he trusted in his dying moments. He had told Robin to love her, look after her. Just as Robin was now trying to do.

Marian fisted her hand in frustration. She didn't know what to do. Robin had respected her wishes after Guy's death, left her in peace, as she had asked, to repent and mourn. She knew what it must have cost him. Now his fortunes had changed so dramatically he seemed filled with hope again, hope that they could have the life they had always dreamed of.

Marian needed to speak to him again. She knew he would come again tomorrow, she also knew he would be turned away by the Abbess. She was still torn, but she owed it to Robin to see him at least.

Marian's mind was made up and she wondered if the Nightwatchman might be needed one last time.

It wasn't exactly the Nightwatchman, but if anyone had looked to the outer gate of Our Lady's Priory, they would have seen a small lad leading a horse out to the road, his hood pulled forwards and scarf wrapped up to his chin even on this warm day.

Marian waited until she was out of sight of the convent before she dared mount her horse, or more accurately the horse she had stolen.

She knew Robin would be around somewhere. Hidden most likely in the forest surrounding the narrow road. Marian was relying on him seeing her and making himself known. She pulled her hood back and lowered her scarf. It was wonderful to feel the breeze through her hair. Two years in a nun's habit had made her forget the simple pleasure of the wind whipping her locks around her face. She smiled into the sun that filtered through the trees.

Marian didn't have to wait long for the familiar thwack of an arrow hitting a large tree just to the side of her path. She tugged on her horse's reins, bringing it to a halt, and dismounted, pulling the arrow from the trunk and fingering the fletching as though Robin might feel her touch too.

'You came.'

Robin ran out from the cover of the forest, a look of delight on his face. His smile shone at her, his blue eyes danced with happiness. He dropped his bow and took her in his arms, lifting her off the ground.

Marian remained stiff, he had misunderstood.

'Robin, put me down. I need to talk to you.'

'We can talk in Nottingham,' Robin sighed happily, still holding her.

'No, we must talk now. I am not going to Nottingham.'

'What?' Robin put Marian down, his arms still encircled her waist, but his face creased into a frown. Marian took his hands and pushed them firmly to his side.

'I can't, Robin,' she began resolutely. 'I wanted to talk to you so I could tell you that I won't be coming. I must stay here.'

Marian cast her eyes to the ground sadly, she willed herself to stay strong. Not to cry, not to give in to her aching desire to bury her face in Robin's warm chest, to kiss his lips and lose herself in the man she loved.

'No,' Robin said sadly. 'Marian, Isabella is gone. Prince John is gone. The King has given his blessing to our marriage, he will give you away, as you wanted. Remember?'

Marian did remember, all those years ago. Robin had proposed to her, for the second time, over a fresh grave. She had promised to marry him when the King returned.

'I cannot. The things we did, it was wrong, it was a sin.'

Robin threw his hands in the air in desperation. 'Marian, what Gisborne did was a sin! He lied to you, you would never have married him otherwise, you told me he said I was dead.'

'He did. But I did care for him.'

'I know, I know you did, because you are good and kind. But he . . . Marian, he beat you up, he frightened you. I know he did. You don't owe it to him, he doesn't own you anymore.'

Marian could see Robin was desperate. He saw her slipping away again.

'But, Robin, don't you see?' Marian asked, taking his hand and pleading with her eyes to be understood. 'This is my punishment.'

Robin sighed, wrapped his hand around hers.

'Guy didn't want you punished. He had forgiven you, Marian.' Robin spoke softly now as he caressed her hand in his own. 'He asked me to look after you, to love you. And I do love you, Marian, more than I can ever tell you.'

Marian's eyes were wide, he spoke so passionately now. She made to speak but he hushed her.

'I have thought about you every single day. As soon as Nottingham was secure I took my leave from the King to find you. I love you more than ever, I will do anything for you. Just tell me what I have to do, my love, and I will do it.'

He looked at her earnestly, his eyes so piercing, his face just as she had pictured it a thousand times, looking down at her with adoration.

'You can't change the past, Robin.'

'Marian, if you tell me you do not love me I will leave.' Robin's voice was cracking as he said the words. Marian considered. Would it be a kindness to let him go? But she could not lie.

'It's not that. It is because of me that Guy is dead. If I hadn't . . . if we hadn't . . .'

'No,' Robin said firmly. 'Guy died because Prince John's guard stabbed him. He died because he would rather you lived than he did. And if I had been standing where he was I would have done the same for you.'

'Robin, don't,' Marian pleaded, unable to bear the thought of anyone else dying for her.

'Guy died so you could have a life, not so you could be shut up in a convent. He told me to love and care for you and I intend to. But I cannot do that if you are in a priory.'

Marian considered, Robin was right, Guy had asked him to love and care for her. He had died so she could carry on living.

'This whole nun thing was Isabella's doing. She was jealous, Marian, even though she didn't want me anymore, she didn't want you having me either.'

'What has happened to Isabella?' Marian asked, eager for a distraction from her decision. She could hear the venom in her voice as she said her name. Robin laughed, apparently amused.

'You really can't stand her can you, not very Christian is it?' he teased.

'Robin!' Marian scolded, before smiling to herself. Some things never changed.

'Lady Isabella is now the official mistress of Prince John and the proud mother of his one year old son, Henry, Earl of Nottingham.' Robin's tone was mocking, Marian gasped in surprise at the news of a child, then laughed. 'The Lady Isabella is in France, with her paramour, as he desires. She is happy I believe. Whilst they were in Nottingham the Prince plied her with enough jewels to dazzle an army and kept her better dressed than most queens. She has him wrapped around her little finger, so I daresay she is quite content with this arrangement, not least because Prince John arranged a little accident for her husband too.'

Marian shook her head. 'Well, much as I dislike her, I can't pretend I'm sorry to hear that. Guy told me she was a sweet child. Her husband brutalised her.'

'I know,' Robin replied softly. He squeezed Marian's hand again. 'But enough of Isabella. Marian, I need you, I cannot do this without you.'

'Robin, you have managed without me for years, you are strong and –'

'You give me strength,' Robin cried. 'It has been the thought of you that got me through the Holy Land, got me through every day in that forest, got me through the last two years. I need you, Marian and I love you.'

Marian nodded, she had planned to tell Robin she was unworthy of him and go. She had planned to tell Robin she was to remain a nun, as a punishment for her sins. But her resolve was slipping away. Robin was still holding her hands, he stroked her thumb with his finger. How she had longed for his touch, she wanted him to touch her all over. But Robin had dropped to his knee.

'Marian, I love you. I have always loved you and I always will. I am sorry for the times I have let you down. But I will look after you now, if you will let me.'

'Robin?' Marian asked quietly. 'What are you doing?'

'I am asking you to marry me.' He looked up at her, eyes wide, coughed nervously. 'Marian, my love, will you marry me?'

Marian stood rooted to the spot, she felt as if the world was spinning. It was now or never. In this moment she would decide her fate.

There was never any doubt. Her arms found Robin as if they had never left him. Her lips the same. Kissing him had never felt so good, he was warm and strong, full of desire for her. Marian found herself lifted into the air again, this time she clung onto Robin, kissed him harder, burying a hand in his hair and pressing her body against his.

Finally they broke off and Marian was lowered to the ground. She was dishevelled and flushed, grinning from ear to ear.

'So, is that a yes?' Robin asked playfully, running his hands through her hair. Marian laughed.

'Of course it is!' she cried. 'I will be your wife. Now, when can we marry? It has to be soon. Long engagements don't suit me,' she said ruefully.

'Agreed, my love, we can be married before the end of the week. The King is in Nottingham for another month, he can give you away. All we need is a priest and I will be your husband.'

Her husband. The man she had loved since she was a girl was finally going to be her husband. Marian let go of Robin and mounted her horse.

'Marian?' Robin asked, looking at her quizzically. 'Where are you going?'

'Isn't it obvious?' she asked with a mischievous smile. 'Well, get up then. Unless you're planning to walk back to Nottingham.'

Robin grinned, jumped up behind Marian and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her scarf aside so he could kiss her neck.

'Ride on, my Lady,' he whispered, holding her tight, in his arms where she belonged.

Marian knew as she rode up the narrow road towards Nottingham that the guilt she carried would not be gone forever, she knew she would never forget Guy either. But Robin was right, Guy had not sacrificed himself so she could have a half-life, living out her days in seclusion and solitude. She had wronged Guy, but he had also wronged her. They were not the memories she would carry with her though. She would remember the brave man who adored her, the man who was tender and loving and so wanted her. She would always keep a piece of her heart for Guy.

But life was for living. Marian was young and Nottingham had finally been put right, but there would be much work to do still. She and Robin could do so much good together. She knew that her influence would curb his impulsiveness and cockiness, as his free spirit would set hers free. But more than that she loved him, loved him with every bone in her body.

As Marian drew their horse to a halt on the outskirts of Nottingham she smiled. She was home and finally she was to be Robin's wife. She turned to kiss him, a tender kiss, full of unspoken meaning.

As she urged her horse over the drawbridge to the city gates Marian held her head high. She was Marian of Knighton and she was proud to enter Nottingham with her beloved lord, Robin of Locksley, the legendary Robin Hood, hers at last.

Fin