The Sheriff waited in the den outside of his private chambers. Lady Rhiannon still had not yet returned. It was very late. Surely she wasn't still visiting Lady Meridwyn? He poured a little more of his brandy and took a sip to warm him. For some strange reason he felt a slight chill. He realized it was since Mortianna had revealed the true intentions of Lady Hestia. He wondered how anyone could be so cruel as to plot to kill their own sister, all in the name of lustful pursuit of a man. Him. He shuddered. Life was becoming increasingly complicated. More so since his return to Nottingham.

There was a sudden knock on his door. He went to open it expecting it to be one of his guards announcing Lady Rhiannon's arrival. Instead it was Guy.

"Cousin." Guy greeted him.

"Good evening, Guy. How is your lady?" the Sheriff asked.

"She is very slowly improving." Guy replied.

"Good. Come in! Share a goblet of brandy with me. We have much to celebrate, cousin. Our ladies are back home with us safe and sound." He put his hand on Guy's back to lead him into his den. Guy looked at him curiously.

"There's some things I must share with you, before you retire. Funny you should drop by." The Sheriff said. He closed the door and went over to the table to pour a goblet of brandy for Guy. Guy took it from him.

"My favourite year…tincture of rapture." The Sheriff smiled. "Much smoother than modern varieties." He winked.

"Yes." Guy agreed as he took a sip from it. "What is it you wish to talk to me about, cousin?" he asked.

"I saw our leperous insect friend earlier." The Sheriff stated.

"You did. But – you did not send for me?"

"I decided this time to go alone. Your place was with your lady."

"Oh." Guy replied.

"He finally gave me some information. He told me the whereabouts of my child. And he also provided the names of the fugitives from Locksley's band. I was able to get the location of one of them." He said as he raised his left eyebrow.

"Good news indeed, cousin!" Guy exclaimed.

"And one other thing to share as well." The Sheriff frowned.

"What is it, George? Is it regarding the infant?" Guy questioned, his curiosity piqued.

"No. I had a visitor come to see me today. Alas, it was Hecate's sister, Lady Hestia, her twin." He stared into his goblet of brandy.

"What did she want?" Guy asked.

"In a nutshell, she wishes me to find her sister."

"Bad timing." Guy remarked. "Did you inform her it's not possible?"

"Yes." The Sheriff paused a moment. "Her reasoning to find her is not what you may think." He took a sip from his goblet. "She is most unlike her sister. Her intent is to stop my wedding. She plans to talk. To tell my Lady everything!" The Sheriff exclaimed in a moment of anger. He already knew what he must do, even before Mortianna advised him.

Guy shook his head. "Lady Rhiannon would not be pleased to hear you once had hired courtesans in your castle."

"Indeed. We must stop her, cousin." The Sheriff drew closer to Guy and raised his left brow. "I cannot just order her execution. Technically she has committed no crime - yet. Though she is blackmailing me." He muttered his disgust. "The point is, for just this once, let us go back to our old ways." The Sheriff fixed his eyes upon his cousin. Guy read him like a book.

"You want her dead." Guy guessed accurately.

"You're very perceptive, cousin." The Sheriff grinned.

"When?" Guy asked. His mouth became suddenly dry. He took a sip of the brandy.

"As soon as possible. Find out where she lives, what she does all day long. We could catch her off guard." The Sheriff said.

"There must be another way, cousin?" Guy pleaded.

"No, Guy." The Sheriff said. "There is no other way. I must stop her."

"Very well." Guy agreed reluctantly.

"I want her dead by the next full moon." The Sheriff instructed. "Alas, my lead investigator cannot be here to look into the matter. I'm assigning you to observe her and provide me the details."

"As you wish, cousin." Guy said.

"Good." The Sheriff smiled, satisfied. "Now, where is my lady? Is she with Lady Meridwyn?" The Sheriff inquired.

"No. She left her side quite some time ago." Guy replied.

"She is not there?" The Sheriff narrowed his eyes. "Then where would she be?" It is very late!"

"I do not know. She said she was returning here. It must've been at least an hour ago when she took leave of my lady." Guy said.

"I must find her." The Sheriff said as he set his goblet back upon the table.

"Indeed." Guy agreed. "I will begin investigations on the morrow. What did you say the woman's name was again?"

"Hestia." The Sheriff said. "Her name is Lady Hestia. In appearance, she is identical to her late twin. But do not be fooled. Her nature is completely the opposite." The Sheriff warned.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After Guy left, the Sheriff went on his search for his Lady. He walked the length of the long corridors through the north wing of the castle, down the steps leading onto the main floor, then eventually through the doors that lead outside to the courtyard. The gardens were up ahead. It was lightly raining. A mist was beginning to form. He ventured anyway. He had a strong suspicion he might find his Lady there. She always seemed drawn to that place. The place where they first met. Where he first kissed her.

He searched the courtyard and decided to venture further. Further out into the gardens there were hedges clothing the landscape in a maze. He wished he had brought a torch with him for light. It was difficult to see in the dark mist that seemed to envelop him. He continued on a direct path for another half mile. Finally he spotted a figure near vases of heather and peonies. It was Lady Rhiannon. Her back was to him. He drew closer.

"My Lady…" he called to her.

She turned around. She was holding a white rose. "My Lord." She said. She tried to smile. But he could tell before he was inches away from her face that she had been weeping.

"Rhiannon." He said. "What troubles you, my angel?"

She looked up into his eyes. "I can't help feeling I am the cause for Meridwyn's illness. I have caused great concern for Sir Guy. I can tell he loves her so. And now his days are filled with worry. Because of me."

"Oh, my angel." He said as he embraced her. "It is not your fault alone. Lady Meridwyn has a mind of her own. She is strong, my love. She is going to be recovered before you know it." He reassured.

"Do you really believe that? Or are you only saying that to appease me?" She pleaded.

"I truly believe it, my Lady." For the Sheriff was confident. Not only had Lady Meridwyn awakened, but she was in good hands. And now, Mortianna would assist in speeding her recovery.

She eased a little, glad that he came for her. She began to relax in his embrace.

"Come, my Lady." He said. Her gown was damp. He took off his cloak and placed it about her shoulders.

"Afraid of a little rain, Sheriff?" she said as she broke free and looked up at him with her sultry green eyes.

"Alas, you remembered." He smiled. "I have not forgotten when you said those words to me the first afternoon we met, last September." His hazel eyes burned like torches as he bore them into hers.

"I was hoping you had not forgotten." She said smiling.

"I have held onto every sweet memory you have given to me." The Sheriff said as he caressed her cheek with his hand. He lifted her chin up toward him. He kissed her then. Slowly. Sensuously. Filling her senses with bliss, and her heart with desire. She relished the moment as their tongues touched. She became breathless. And as they kissed in the rain falling upon them in the fragrant gardens, their worries washed away.

And then, she remembered. Vague flashes. Being hit on the head with a cold hard object. She guessed a rock. The blackness. Shadows of memories slowly crept over her. The small dark cell she first occupied alone while held in captivity. The fear she once held of never seeing her lover again.

The Sheriff knew something was amiss. He felt her stiffen. She held onto him fast.

"My Lady." He said. "Let's go inside."

"Yes. Take me away from here. This is near to the spot where I was captured."

"I know." He said.

She started to breathe rapidly, and to shiver. "You'll never know." She mumbled as they walked toward the castle. He heard her, notwithstanding. He stopped and grasped her shoulders. "Know what, Rhiannon?" He asked softly, as his eyes searched hers.

"I thought I'd never see you again, ever. That thought frightened me." She looked down for a moment, then back up to meet his gaze. "It wasn't death that frightened me. It was the fear of never seeing you again." Tears began to form in her eyes. They pooled and spilled onto her cheeks mixing with the raindrops, they formed beads on her soft dewy skin.

He put his hands on her face and used his thumbs to gently wipe her tears away. The rain was picking up but the Sheriff ignored it. Rhiannon was unmoving and oblivious to it. Alas, she was beginning to remember, he did not wish to interrupt her train of thought.

"I remember I was worried about something, but not pertaining to me. There was incredible pain." She whispered.

Come on, Rhiannon, he willed. Remember our child!

"And heat rushed through me." She continued. "I believed I was dying. I knew it was futile but I whispered your name. Praying for you to come quick. I was afraid to close my eyes, yet I soon could not control it. Next there was blackness. And then…" her words trailed off.

"And then what, my angel." He gently prodded.

"And then." She said slowly. "You found me." She began to weep.

He held her close to him. "My lady, I would've went to the ends of the earth to find you. I still would."

"Oh, my Lord." She cried out. "You were heaven sent."

"I don't know about that." He chuckled.

"Yes." She said as she broke free to look up at him. "I never would've believed you would find me. In that horrible, loathed place. But you did. And just in time." She whispered.

The Sheriff closed his eyes for a moment and slowly shook his head, trying to shut out the memory of his first glance upon Lady Rhiannon that day. When he thought he was too late. He could still see her lying on the small bed, as white as the sheet that barely covered her. No colour to her cheeks or lips. The blood pooled under her. Her damp hair clinging to her face and shoulders. He had been near to death before, many times. But that was the first time his reaction to it gave him a sinking feeling. A momentary feeling that his heart had just been ripped from his chest. Until Guy confirmed that she was indeed alive. He never wanted to have that feeling again.

"What is it, my love?" she asked. She sensed he was troubled by something.

"Nothing." He said as he looked down at his hands.

"Tell me." She pleaded.

He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "I was just remembering how incredibly relieved I was when I realized you were alive. For I knew at dawn after our first night together - how much I loved you."

"My Lord." She smiled.

"Stay with me, my Lady. I will always make certain you are protected." He said.

"I'm not leaving." She replied.

"My Lady…." He whispered. He bent down to kiss her soft, full lips. He parted her lips with his tongue and found hers. The rain washed down on them, but each were oblivious, too caught up in the moment to care. Afterward he embraced her. He heard the sounds of a horse galloping in the distance. His eyes found its source. It appeared to be one of his guards riding into the night fifty yards to the east of where they stood. The guard would be retiring for the night at his home nearby. It was their turn to do the same.

"Come, my angel." The Sheriff said to Lady Rhiannon. "We must get you out of those wet clothes and get you warm." He took her by the hand and they walked swiftly back in the direction they started on before, back towards the castle.

"As long as you stay with me tonight, I will be warm indeed." She remarked.

He smiled. Tonight he would stay with her. He didn't mind the interruption in his earlier plan. He needed her.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Once they were inside of the den just outside the master's private chambers, Lady Rhiannon excused herself to change out of her clothes. Once again the Sheriff made his way towards the table by the fire to pour another libation of the tincture of rapture whilst he waited for her. As he sipped it, he was warmed even more than he already was. And he wondered why he felt the compulsion to partake so much of it during this particular day?

He was getting a strange feeling in his gut about things, but he didn't know why. A sense that something was about to go very awry. He was unable to identify which of the numerous matters he had to concern himself with, would be the cause. He needed to be vigilant, that was about all he knew with certainty.

He heard the sound of the double doors leading into the private chamber opening. Rhiannon stood there, a vision to him. She was wrapped in her velvet dressing gown. It was burgundy in colour and fastened with a satin sash in the same hue. Her skin glowed as the light danced upon her dampened skin, still touched by the evening rain. He fixed his eyes upon her while silencing a gasp. He moved towards her. Slowly… deliberately. Never taking his eyes off of hers. She smiled. She sensed his desire for her and was pleased.

"My Lady, you are beautiful. I've never beheld such beauty in my life until I first cast my eyes upon you. And tonight, you are radiant." He paused and cleared his throat. "You shine like the sun, my Lady." He narrowed his eyes. They were burning with desire. He raised his left brow. She began to melt. She turned her head and cast him a sideways glance, then looked downcast. He loved it when she did that. His body temperature seemed to increase in his response to her.

She stood frozen a moment and then said "I am not weak."

He was surprised. It seemed an odd thing to say in a moment such as this. "Why do you say that, my Lady?" He asked.

"I never shed tears, except alone. Usually in the dark. I never want you to feel that I must depend on you to get by in this life. I don't need anyone." She whispered. She felt relieved to finally be able to look him the eye and reveal the truth about herself.

He gave a half hearted smile. For he really was inclined to frown. He could offer her more than any man in the country, besides the King of England. More protection than any other maiden could wish for. A more than comfortable life, beyond any of her dreams. Yet she was telling him she did not need it? Did not need him? He didn't speak. He just narrowed his gaze and demanded an explanation in a piercing glance as he suddenly put his hands upon her shoulders. At this point, he could no longer hide the frown he'd been so desperately attempting to conceal. He was suddenly reminded of Lady Marian. The way she always regarded him with disgust. He didn't like this. Not at all. For if that was the way Lady Rhiannon felt about him, he may as well bail – now!

"I am ashamed you saw me weep, my Lord." She began. "You have enough responsibility as it is. I never want to be a burden to you. That is why I strive to be so self sufficient." She looked down a moment to catch her breath, she was beginning to speak too quickly. "That is all I meant by not needing you. I don't like need. Need is a very lonely feeling." She knew she was convincing, because his face was softening toward her. But in fact she was stepping back in her tracks and sugar coating her words in response to him. For she knew he was angered. She loved him too much to endure his anger toward her. She never wished to disappoint him.

"My Lady." He smiled again. "If I didn't care to assume responsibility toward you, I never would've asked you to be my wife. It is in fact a duty I will assume by choice. You must understand…" the Sheriff said slowly in a whisper. "I've never felt such a compelling need to protect someone… until I met you."

She searched his eyes with hers because she was warmed in that instant. She suddenly regretted telling him. She had almost succeeded in offending him.

"There was a time I needed you desperately." She decided to share. She knew that he would be pleased to know that.

"Yes. I'm sure I know what you're referring to." He said.

"I know that I fought it. I tried to survive. Before you found me." She said. She suddenly felt a strange sharp pain in the depths of her abdomen. She instinctively held it with her hand, grimacing and controlling the urge to cry out. Then, it was gone as suddenly as it appeared.

"My Lady?" the Sheriff asked, bewildered.

"It's alright. It's just this strange pain that comes and goes occasionally - whenever I begin to remember that awful time." She remarked.

He suddenly realized what it was she was remembering. The pain of childbirth. That had to be it!

"Why do you think that is – that you sometimes feel this?" The Sheriff asked her. He was hoping she would piece it together.

"I'm not sure. I can remember feeling pain, but I couldn't always remember it." She shut her eyes, trying to block it from her mind.

"Do you remember how long it lasted?" He asked.

"No. Just that it was very intense. All consuming. And then…" She looked off in the distance, lost in thought. Why did he keep insisting on these questions?

"And then what, my angel?"

"Then there was relief." She relented. "As suddenly as it started. But that was before I felt a strange rush of heat and everything was blurred and distant. Then there was blackness." She stated, unfazed by her words.

He shuddered. And so that was what the shadow of death looming over you felt like? To hear his lady speak of it, saying she once kissed death, gave him that horrible sinking feeling again. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. Yet, he was strangely aroused by the same token.

"My Lady, you've had enough bad memories assault you for one night. You are trembling. Let me warm you. A goblet of my special brandy, perhaps? The Sheriff suggested.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, my Lord. I think it would help." She accepted.

She took the goblet from him and began to sip it. It warmed her and helped to relax her. She was grateful for the break in the previous topic of discussion. She looked up at him and licked her lips mindlessly. Unaware that he followed every movement of her tongue.

"Perhaps part of what I said was a lie… to myself." She smiled. She was truly fearless. So matter of fact describing herself. How she accepted her own death. He was strangely fascinated by that, and this latest admission. His curiosity piqued.

"Really?" he replied. "Which part was that?" his eyes were drawn to her cleavage. Her dressing gown was slowly coming away. More and more her soft, perfect breasts came into focus. He tried to concentrate on maintaining eye contact, but his peripheral vision noticed it, notwithstanding.

"There are times when I do need you." She said. "Like now for instance."

He licked his lips as he eyed her up and down. He took her goblet of brandy from her and quickly placed both of them back on the table. Then he picked her up and carried her through the doors leading into the private chamber. She threw her arms around his neck and began to kiss him, even before he placed her upon the bed.

She lay on the bed, nestled against the shimmering silk linens. The softest of sheets spread out on the softest cloud of a bed she had ever rested upon, and was in her own piece of heaven. And it was a good feeling. Her dampened skin glowed. An aura of light danced around her, it seemed to kiss her skin. Like a soul burning on fire. He was aroused in that moment of clarity. He went back to close and lock the door.

The Sheriff slowly removed his coat, then he unlaced his tunic until the smooth skin of his chest was visible. She let out a gasp. He climbed on the bed beside her and began to kiss her, slowly untying the satin sash that held the edges of her velvet dressing gown closed. He pried the soft velvet fabric open. Then he lightly traced her curves, starting at mid calf, and working his way up. Slowly, deliberately, until he trailed upwards over her breasts, her throat, her jaw, and then found her soft, full lips as he tasted her with his own.

"My love…" she breathed. "I missed you when you were gone. I was dying for your touch." She was beginning to feel breathless. She felt a heat settle. She wanted him. Her dressing gown began to fall from her shoulders.

"My Lady." The Sheriff whispered as he kissed her. "I desire you…" his words trailed off in a distant place somewhere enveloped in rapture. He thought he might die. He needed her now.

She knew. She reached down and touched him, slowly, softly, then gradually increasing the pressure expertly. He responded to her touch and let out a gasp.

"You are going to get what you want, Lady." He growled huskily as he continued to taste her with his tongue. She was on fire for him. She let her dressing gown slide off of her as she lay naked upon it and pulled him down toward her. He smiled seductively as he looked down upon her, before settling onto her body.

"You're the most irresistible creature I've ever known." He whispered to her. "I'm drawn to you like a magnet. I cannot break free from your spell." He whispered with hunger.

"My dear, dark prince." She breathed.

"Lady, you don't realize it, but I need you." He was suddenly pressed next to her, feverishly kissing her in a heated moment of pure unadulterated passion.

He frequently called her 'angel', yet she was no better than he. Indeed not a noble woman. She was anything but an angel, she realized. For when she was with him like this, her reason for wanting him was just as self serving as any man. She opened herself completely to him, body and soul in submission to his will. She unlaced his breeches, they opened and the velvet fabric grazed his skin along with her hand. He raised himself up, then bent down to graze her breasts with his lips, his kisses were soft and wet, and warm. She wanted more of him. He sensed it and let his hands roam over her soft skin. He continued to respond to the touch of her.

"Take me." She whispered in breathless abandon. He obeyed her command.

"My Lady." The Sheriff whispered, breathing energy into her very soul. "I crave you…"

She drew in a sigh. "My love." She moaned as she kissed him, tasting him with her tongue. She opened herself to him and he slid into her. She cried out. They continued to please one another until their energy was completely spent, and there was nothing remaining but their rapid breathing and the heat of their bodies pressed next to each other. They soon succumbed into blissful sleep.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning in the wee hours of dawn the Sheriff was awakened by a knock on the door. He grumbled about the interruption after he caught a quick glance of Rhiannon lying there beside him so peacefully, though oddly pale. He threw on his black silk quilted robe and laced his breeches as he made his way through the doors leading into the den, and opened the outer door. The Scribe stood there to greet him at this insanely early hour.

"A message from Sir Guy, sire." The Scribe announced, handing the Sheriff a small folded parchment.

"Yes." The Sheriff muttered as he took it from him. He dismissed the Scribe and closed the door. Then he unfolded the note:

"Cousin. There was a scroll left to me from your jailer, Hector. He had a family situation, alas, his father is dying. He had to take leave of his duty for a time. Who do you wish to appoint as jailer in his absence? I will wait upon your answer. – Guy."

The Sheriff frowned. This did not sit right. He looked up into the private chamber. His eyes widened. Neither did something else sit right! He rushed to the bedside. Lady Rhiannon was very pale. Her skin was cool and clammy to the touch. She almost looked the way she did when….No!

He called to her. "No Rhiannon!" he shouted. "NO!" She did not respond.

He ran back to the outer door of the den and down the corridor. He soon spotted the Scribe.

"Scribe!" the Sheriff shouted after him.

The Scribe stopped and turned to face the Sheriff.

"Send for Mortianna and Lady Margaret the midwife at once! Go!" he commanded.

The Scribe nodded and scurried quickly in obedience to his master.

The Sheriff ran back to his chambers, through the double doors and to the bedside. He sat upon the bed and held his lady.

"What on earth is happening?" he muttered to no one in particular as he held her to him. He kissed her head. Her soft silky hair grazed his lips. "My Lady." He said. "What has happened to you? My Love!"