On Tuesday morning, just outside of the village of Nottingham, Madam Oberon was attaching the bodice of Lady Rhiannon's wedding gown to the skirt. She was busily pinning the two pieces together. As she put the last of the pins in place, she heard a knock at her door. She was somewhat surprised to see ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn standing before her. For, she had not yet summoned Lady Rhiannon.

"Mes chers! You are back. Come in sil vous plait." She smiled at them and gestured for them to enter. The ladies followed.

"I am working on your gown now, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. It is not quite ready for you yet." She smiled.

"Yes. I know, Madam." Rhiannon said. "Actually, I have a request for you. It is regarding that gown."

"Oui, mon cher. What is it?" Madam Oberon asked.

"I'd like to offer that gown to Lady Meridwyn." Rhiannon said, surprising the two of them.

"What? Rhiannon, no!" Meridwyn exclaimed.

"Je ne comprends pas?" Madam Oberon remarked, somewhat bewildered.

"She's trying to be helpful, Madame – by sacrificing her own gown. You see, the reason we're here is because I need a wedding gown. I need your expertise. For, I haven't much time." Meridwyn said.

"Oh? When is the wedding, Mademoiselle." Madam Oberon asked her.

Lady Meridwyn cleared her throat. "September eighth." She said.

"A piene six jours?" Madam Oberon exclaimed as her blue eyes widened.

"Oui, Madame. Could you help me? You see, we are eager to be wed. And you are the best seamstress this town has to offer."

"Oh, I see. Un enfant est-il?" Madam Oberon asked.

Even though she spoke in French, the ladies picked up on the reference to 'infant' straightway.

"Well, if you just asked me what I think you just asked me, then oui…you are correct." Lady Meridwyn smiled.

"Comment merveilleux!" Madam Oberon exclaimed as she clapped her hands together. "Good news indeed, Mademoiselle Meridwyn!"

"Can you help me, Madame?" Lady Meridwyn implored her.

"May she have the gown you've started for me?" Rhiannon interjected before Madam Oberon could speak.

"Hmm." Madam Oberon murmured. "I have created a gown in seven days. But, I've never made a wedding gown in that short of a time frame before. Though, j'aime un defi…." She mused.

"Madame?" Lady Meridwyn asked.

"Oh, forgive me. I do love a challenge." Madam Oberon explained in english.

"But, that would be too difficult to begin from scratch wouldn't it? Couldn't you just use the one you've already started on for me, then make another for me?" Lady Rhiannon suggested.

"Well, that would be completely up to Mademoiselle Meridwyn." Madam Oberon said.

"I'm fine with it." Meridwyn sighed. "For I haven't given you enough notice." She said to Madam Oberon. Then she turned to Rhiannon. "I do feel strange about it, though. It was supposed to be your gown."

"Meridwyn, there's not enough time. I want you to have it." Rhiannon smiled. "You deserve to have a fine gown." She added.

"Alright." Lady Meridwyn relented.

"Bon! Now…je dois aller au travail! Come. We need to get you measured." Madam Oberon beckoned for the ladies to follow her. From the hallway she gestured for them enter into the same room they were in the week before. She turned her head down toward the length of the hall before joining them inside.

"Marie! Venir ici!" Madam Oberon called to her daughter.

Madam Oberon joined them in the large room where the array of fabrics, and some of her completed works were. In moments, Madam Oberon's daughter dutifully answered her mother's summons.

"Oui, maman?" Marie asked.

"Marie, nous avons une nouvelle affectation. Et aller me mettre mon ruban a mesurer. Apportez votre comprine et de la craie ainsi. Nous devons commencer." Madam Oberon instructed.

"Bien sur, de la mere." Marie replied. She turned then left the room to carry out the request.

"I really appreciate you doing this for me on such short notice." Meridwyn said after Marie had left the room.

"Ce n'est pas un probleme, Mademoiselle! Il est de mon plaisir." Madam Oberon said.

"Pardon, Madame?" Meridwyn asked.

"It is my pleasure, mon cher." Madam Oberon smiled.

She walked over to a table in the room. There was a mound of white silk lying there on the table. Rhiannon and Meridwyn saw it, but never gave it much notice. To them, it appeared to be just that – a mound of silk. But, when Madam Oberon picked it up and held it out, it suddenly unfolded and revealed itself to be a gown. The ladies gasped in unison. It was the gown she had been busily creating for Lady Rhiannon.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Lady Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Indeed." Meridwyn sighed as she put her hand to her bosom.

"This is the gown." Madam Oberon announced as she brought it over to show to Lady Meridwyn. "Do you approve?"

"Oh yes, Madame! It is lovely!" Meridwyn said. "Guy will love it! I just know that when he sees me wearing it, he'll forget about anyone else present."

"I'm not sure about the hue, though." Madam Oberon said. "But, come. Go into the dressing room for me. Remove your outer gown and return to me. I have a feeling I won't need to make many adjustments to it." Madam Oberon said.

Meridwyn nodded and proceeded to the dressing room.

Lady Rhiannon turned to Madam Oberon. "Thank you, Madam Oberon. She is a very dear friend to me. In fact, she is like a sister to me." Rhiannon smiled.

"Ce n'est rien, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. For, I have known Mademoiselle Meridwyn for years. I'm very pleased to be a part of both of your special days!" The kind woman replied, her blue eyes twinkling.

They turned at the sound of footsteps approaching the room. It was Marie. She had returned with Madam Oberon's measuring tape, a writing tablet and chalk. She smiled a greeting to Lady Rhiannon. She came forward and gave the measuring tape to her mother, then took her place on a chair in the room, dutifully poised to begin assisting her mother.

"Merci, Marie." Madam Oberon said.

Lady Meridwyn came out of the dressing room. She noticed Marie and greeted her with a smile.

"Now, Mademoiselle, allow me to assist you in putting this gown on. I had just finished pinning the skirt to the bodice before you arrived." Madam Oberon remarked.

"Alright." Meridwyn said.

Madam Oberon still had the gown draped over her arm. She walked toward Meridwyn and helped her by placing the gown over her head.

"Be careful of the pins, Mademoiselle." She warned.

Finally, the gown was in place.

"Oh, Meridwyn, it's beautiful on you!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

Meridwyn blushed.

"Hmm." Madam Oberon said as she rubbed her chin. "C'est un peu gros dans la poitrine."

"Oui, maman." Marie agreed, still waiting to jot down directives from her mother.

"What's that, Madame?" Lady Meridwyn asked.

"It's a little big in the bosom." Madam Oberon explained. "The bodice and sleeves are perfect otherwise." She said. She thought a moment as she studied it then added: "Alright, let's remove the bodice. Slide it off to the waist a moment, sil vous plait. I must measure."

Meridwyn followed her instruction, and shimmied her arms out of the sleeves. The bodice of the gown was carefully pushed to her waist, so as not to disturb the pins.

Madam Oberon took her tape measure and brought it around Meridwyn's back and held it close over the fullest part of Meridwyn's breasts.

"Trente quatre." Madam Oberon called out as she turned her head toward Marie.

"Oui, ma mere, je me l'ecrire." Marie said.

"Okay, now put that back on – careful with the pins, mon cher." Madam Oberon said to Meridwyn.

Meridwyn obeyed and put her arms through the sleeves again. Finally it was in place.

Madam Oberon circled Meridwyn. She tugged the gown closer under the arms. "Oui. That will be much better. It was good I hadn't begun sewing that part." She said. Then she stepped away from Meridwyn. She stood back about six feet away, squinting her eyes to study the gown. She looked to Marie.

"Tout les autres measures sont a proximite." Madam Oberon smiled.

"Oui maman, vous etes correct. It's remarquable!" Marie exclaimed.

Ladies Meridwyn & Rhiannon looked at each other and cast curious glances toward them. Madam Oberon noticed.

"I was just telling my daughter that all of the other measurements are close. She agrees!" Madam Oberon explained.

"Oh." Meridwyn smiled.

"There is the matter of the skirt, however." Madam Oberon said as she looked down toward the hem. "It is a bit long." She walked closer to Meridwyn and bent down on one knee. She picked up the bottom of it and folded it under a little. She held it there and turned toward Marie.

"Vite! Apportez–mois mons pins – juste a cote de vous sur ma table de couture." Madam Oberon directed.

Marie looked to her left at the table beside her. She arose from her chair and put her tablet and chalk on the table. Then she picked up a small box that was there upon the table, and brought it to Madam Oberon.

Madam Oberon took a pin from it and pinned the fabric she was holding in her hand. Then she added a few more pins there so she could have a better idea of how it would look when she stood back to evaluate the length. After she was satisfied she'd pinned it enough, she arose and stepped away again.

"Oui. It is perfect now." Madam Oberon said. She turned to Marie.

"La robe est un peu long sur elle. Hem par pouce." She directed.

"Oui, maman." Marie nodded.

"That is really all of the adjusting I need to do!" She smiled at Lady Meridwyn. "Well…in terms of sizing it alone." She hinted. She turned to Marie again.

"Merci, Marie. Nous avons termine avec le mesure. Maintenant, allez dans le village. J'ai besoin d'ivoire fil, correspondant a rubans, et d'une cour de la dentelle." Madam Oberon instructed.

"Oui, ma mere." Marie said as she stood up and then proceeded toward the door.

"Attendre!" Madam Oberon called out to her. Marie turned around.

"Nes pas tarder." Madam Oberon said.

"Oui, maman, je vais revinir a vous." Marie replied.

Madam Oberon smiled then turned toward Meridwyn and Rhiannon.

"Now, Mademoiselle Meridwyn. Do you recall I said that je recommande an ivory colour for you?"

"Yes, Madam Oberon. I do remember." Meridwyn replied.

"Do you have a problem with that? For, I think it will quite enhance your skin tone, and bring out the blue in your eyes."

"You're the expert, Madame." Meridwyn smiled. "You have always made me look beautiful." She said.

"Tres bien." Madam Oberon said.

"But, how will you accomplish that?" Meridwyn asked.

"I dyed a white wedding gown black for Mademoiselle Brigid, didn't I?" Madam Oberon winked. "It shall be easy to dye your white gown ivory."

"Oh yes, indeed." Meridwyn smiled.

"Madam Oberon, if I may. What did you and Marie just speak about a moment ago?" Rhiannon asked.

"Oui." Madam Oberon smiled. "I asked my daughter to go into the village. She is going to bring me ivory thread, matching ribbons, and a yard of lace. I can always use them, even if Lady Meridwyn didn't want the colour of the gown changed, or any embellishments."

"Oh." Rhiannon said.

Madam Oberon turned to Lady Meridwyn. "And if you would like, I can embellish your gown with ribbons or lace or both. What do you think, Mademoiselle?"

"Oh, I would like that very much, Madame!" Meridwyn replied. "Could you add a layer of lace to the bodice?"

"Oui, Mademoiselle. That is exactly what I had in mind."

"And perhaps ribbons on the sleeves?" Meridwyn suggested.

"Oui. Il doit etre fait." Madam Oberon said.

"Pardon, Madame?" Lady Meridwyn asked.

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle. It shall be done." Madam Oberon said.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Excuse-moi, mes chers." Madam Oberon said, before she turned and left the room to answer the door.

"Well, what do you think, Rhiannon? Will I make a beautiful bride?" Meridwyn asked as she gazed down upon the gown she was wearing and let her fingertips caress the smooth silk.

"Indeed." Rhiannon replied. "It is lovely. Madam Oberon is very talented. Guy will love it."

"I can't quite believe it. I didn't know what she was going to say to me, for I hadn't given her enough notice. I never expected a gown so grand!" Lady Meridwyn exclaimed. She looked up at Rhiannon. "Thank you." She smiled.

"Don't think of it." Rhiannon smiled back. "What else could you have done? You shall only be married once. It seemed a shame not to put it to use when my wedding is still weeks away."

"I'm overwhelmed." Meridwyn said.

The ladies turned toward the door. Madame Oberon entered the room. Curiously, Lady Marian was walking beside her.

"Hello." Lady Marian said as she nodded to both of them.

"Lady Marian." Rhiannon greeted. "I'm rather surprised to see you here again."

"Yes…indeed." Meridwyn chimed in.

"It's alright, Meridwyn." Rhiannon said to her friend. "Lady Marian and I have settled our differences."

"Really?" Meridwyn replied curiously.

"Indeed. Last Wednesday, in fact. I tried to tell you but you were unwell that day."

"Oh." Meridwyn said.

"I'm surprised. I thought it was Lady Rhiannon who was preparing for her nuptials?" Lady Marian remarked as she eyed Meridwyn's gown up and down.

"We both are." Meridwyn said.

"Yes. But she's getting married first." Rhiannon replied as she nodded toward Meridwyn.

"I see. And who is the lucky groom?" Marian asked.

"Sir Guy of Gisborne." Meridwyn replied proudly.

"Well then, congratulations." Lady Marian said. She tried very hard not to roll her eyes and giggle. The plot thickens over at Nottingham Castle. What a joke.

Madam Oberon cleared her throat. It seemed her home was becoming a meeting place in the town of Nottingham of late. She turned to Lady Marian.

"Mon cher, your gown is completed. Would you like to see it? She asked.

"Oh yes, Madam Oberon. I'd like that very much." Marian replied.

"Excuse-moi. Je reviendrai." Madam Oberon said as she proceeded to exit the room.

"So…when is the wedding?" Lady Marian asked Meridwyn.

"On Monday." Meridwyn replied.

"My… so soon?" Lady Marian commented, her eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"Yes." Meridwyn said.

"It's no surprise." Rhiannon chimed in. "For, Meridwyn and Sir Guy have been courting for a few years."

"Is that so?" Marian sighed.

"That is a fact." Meridwyn smiled.

"What is a fact?" Rhiannon asked, startling them both.

Ladies Meridwyn and Marian regarded her strangely.

"The length of time that Guy has been courting me." Meridwyn reminded her, still surprised by Rhiannon's question.

"Oh. Right." Rhiannon shrugged. She was suddenly slightly confused. Her vision became blurred and she was overcome with thirst again.

"Do you think Madam Oberon has water to offer? I'm so thirsty." Rhiannon remarked, suddenly changing the topic.

Meridwyn regarded her strangely. Rhiannon was certainly behaving erratically lately.

"Indeed, Rhiannon. I'm sure she does." Meridwyn said.

"So, why are you here?" Lady Rhiannon asked Marian.

"I am here to pick up my gown." Marian replied, rather bewildered by the question. For, Rhiannon was standing right there when Marian was discussing it with Madam Oberon?

Lady Meridwyn looked over at Rhiannon. She tried hard to conceal her suspicion. Why was her friend acting like this? She appeared confused, and what was this thirst about?

Madam Oberon suddenly appeared holding a large box. "Here it is, Mademoiselle Marian." Madam Oberon announced. She gave the box to Lady Marian.

"You should try it on." Madam Oberon said. "I will show you to another room so that Mademoiselle Meridwyn can change back into her gown." She took Marian to the doorway and gestured down the hall, pointing her in the direction of another room to change in.

Rhiannon decided then that she could wait until she got back to the castle for that drink of water.

Lady Marian looked back to Rhiannon before she left the room.

"Perhaps we could share a cup of tea sometime?" Lady Marian suggested.

"Yes. That would be fine." Rhiannon replied. Though, she still remembered to keep it in mind not to trust the lady.

"Are we finished?" Meridwyn asked Madam Oberon.

"Oui, Mademoiselle. You may change into your gown now." Madam Oberon said.

Ten minutes later, Meridwyn came back out of the dressing room. She gave the gown back to Madam Oberon.

"Oh, Madam Oberon, I almost forgot!" Meridwyn began. She reached into her gown pocket and extracted a folded piece of parchment. She gave it to Madam Oberon.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" Madam Oberon asked.

"That is an invitation to my wedding. I'd like for you to come. It would mean a lot to me." Meridwyn smiled.

"Oh, Mademoiselle. Je suis ravi!" Madam Oberon said.

"Monday at high noon. I do hope you can attend." Meridwyn said.

"Oui." Madam Oberon smiled. She put the parchment on the table beside her.

After Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn had left Madam Oberon's home, Lady Marian was back in the room changed into the gown that Madam Oberon had made for her. Madam Oberon was interrupted however when her daughter had returned from an errand in the village. As Madam Oberon and her daughter were speaking near the doorway, her eyes caught sight of an unfolded piece of parchment on the table beside where she was standing. What's this? She looked down upon it. It was an invitation to the wedding of Sir Guy of Gisborne and Lady Meridwyn. A grin slowly spread across her face. Perfect! That will be the day, she thought. She picked up the parchment and folded it, and placed it inside the bodice of the gown. She would move it when she changed back into her own gown. Ten minutes later, she was walking out of Madam Oberon's home with her gown packaged in a box, and the invitation in her skirt pocket. She'd forgotten to give a message to Lady Rhiannon. It was time to deliver it.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Rhiannon and Meridwyn were riding down the main path out of the vicinity of Madam Oberon's home and toward the heart of Nottingham. Meridwyn was riding ahead this time. Rhiannon's vision was slightly blurred and she was still thirsty. She was rubbing her eyes in an attempt to focus them when she saw a large notice nailed to a tree. She slowed the horse and eased her mare toward it.

Meridwyn sensed she had lost Rhiannon somewhere along the way. She slowed her horse and turned it around to face her. She was forty yards ahead.

"Are you coming, Rhiannon?" Meridwyn called back to her.

"You go ahead, Meridwyn." Rhiannon called. "I'm going to walk with my horse a little way. We've been apart for too long." She lied.

Meridwyn waved and went on her way.

Rhiannon dismounted and held the reins while she moved in slowly toward the tree. The parchment was large. There were sketches of two people in the center. Finally, it became clear. It was an order from the Sheriff. She focused back on the sketches. She studied the face of the man. She blinked her eyes a few times to focus, telling herself her eyes were playing tricks on her. But there was no mistaking it! No. It couldn't be? He was dead. The charge – kidnapping? Had her lover gone mad? She was filled with a fury. She didn't know how she was going to approach this with him but she had to. She couldn't stay silent about this. She managed to jimmy the nail out of the parchment. Then she rolled it and put it in the pocket of her cape. It still managed to stick out of the pocket because the scroll was large, but the pocket served its' purpose. She mounted her horse and kicked it into a gallop.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Luke, Drake, and Adam were once again stationed outside of the main gates of the Castle this day. They were getting ready to take shifts for their noon respite when they heard a horse approaching. They looked up.

"Oh, it's her again." Adam said. His grey eyes turned to steel.

"I wonder what she wants?" Luke remarked. "Lady Rhiannon hasn't returned from her outing yet." His brown hair gleamed in the sun.

"Whatever it is, it should be interesting." Drake added in a hushed tone. For the horse was drawing closer toward them.

"Good day, gentlemen." Lady Marian spoke, scanning their faces after she slowed her horse to a halt.

The men nodded and greeted her.

"Lady Rhiannon is not here." Adam announced.

"I know." Marian said. "I just saw her in the village. How silly of me. I forgot to give her a message."

"Is that so?" Luke questioned. He narrowed his blue green eyes at her.

"Yes. Can you tell her to come to Locksley Castle tomorrow at midday? There's some things I wish to share with her." Lady Marian said.

"Rather strange place for a picnic isn't it?" Drake said. His long dark hair glistened. Marian realized then that in another life, she would have a strong attraction to this one. But she could never be with anyone associated with Nottingham. "There's nothing left of Locksley Castle but ruins!" Drake exclaimed.

"Picnic? Who said anything about a picnic?" Lady Marian grinned.

All three of the guards eyed her strangely.

"We will tell her, my lady, but she may not be able to attend. Things are rather busy around here with the preparations for the nuptials of Guy of Gisborne and his lady." Drake pointed out.

"Lady Rhiannon has been helping Sir Gisborne's lady with some of the preparations." Adam added.

"Oh yes, I know." Lady Marian smiled.

"You know?" Luke asked in disbelief.

"Why, yes. I just received my invitation to the wedding today." Marian said as she took it from her gown pocket, unfolded the parchment and flashed it in front of them.

"I see." Drake said.

"If you could give that message to Lady Rhiannon, I'd be most grateful. And I'll be seeing you gentlemen next week. Because, you know – I just wouldn't miss that event for the world!" Lady Marian grinned before she went on her way.

"I still say there's something about her I do not like." Luke said. Drake and Adam nodded their agreement as they watched her ride away.

Twenty minutes later, Luke was coming out of the castle and walking back toward his post at the gates when he saw Lady Rhiannon.

"Where is he?" Lady Rhiannon demanded.

"Whom?" Luke asked.

"The Sheriff. Where is he?" Rhiannon whispered huskily. Her mouth was so dry she could barely get the words out.

"In the Council Quarters with members of his staff." Luke replied. For, he had just come from there. Oddly, he was asked to report there on the condition of his armour. He didn't know why he would need to, but he answered the summons nonetheless.

Rhiannon nodded.

"Wait, my lady. Lady Marian was here with a message for you." Luke said.

"Really? What is the message?" Rhiannon asked. She was desperate for a drink of water. Luckily, she knew there was always a steady supply of it in the Sheriff's Council Quarters.

"She wants you to meet her tomorrow at midday at Locksley Castle." Luke said.

"Hmm." Rhiannon muttered.

"Don't go, my lady. My comrades have informed me that castle is a frightening place, even in the light of day. Seems a strange place to meet you - if you ask me, and I'm not being funny. You won't will you?" Luke implored.

"Ha! As if!" Lady Rhiannon grinned.

"My lady?"

"No Luke. If she wants to see me she'll have to come where I have protection. Locksley Castle! I can just imagine what it looks like." She wants to taunt me over what the Sheriff did to Robin. Well it's not going to work, Rhiannon thought. Even though she was at the moment, angry with her man, she would never listen to Marian's lies. Marian was too bereft to see clearly about anything!

"Not nice from what I hear." Luke said.

She smiled and then broke into a run toward the castle.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

The Sheriff was inside the Council Quarters with Guy, his Scribe, and the same knight who regularly attended the weekly town council meetings.

"Has there been any word about finding another blacksmith?" The Sheriff asked his staff.

"No, my Lord. It seems the one you have employed here serves not just you, but a few of the local villages." Guy replied.

"Well, something needs to be done. Luke seems to be the only one who doesn't have ill fitting armour!" The Sheriff spat.

Lady Rhiannon was fast approaching the door to the Council Quarters. One of the Sheriff's sentry was stationed outside of the door. He turned in her direction when he heard her footsteps.

"He's in a meeting, my lady. The Sheriff asked not to be disturbed." The tall guard spoke.

"Well, that's unfortunate. For, this cannot wait." Rhiannon said with her hand upon the door handle.

The guard moved in closer to block her access. "No, my lady. You can't go in there." He warned.

"Out of my way!" Rhiannon exclaimed. "I am his betrothed, in case you've forgotten!" With that she swiftly kicked him hard in the shin. The guard groaned and bent down favouring his leg.

The Sheriff stood leaning down on the table towards the faces of his men.

"You must keep looking for me." The Sheriff instructed. "I need a competent blacksmith." He said. The men nodded. Suddenly, they heard a commotion outside of the door. He turned his head. Just as he was about to go to the door to ask his sentry what was going on, the door flew open. It was Lady Rhiannon. She stormed into the room, slightly breathless, and pulling a large scroll from the pocket of her black velvet cape. The Sheriff stood motionless staring at her, startled by her intrusion. She walked directly to the table as the stunned faces of the men gathered there were upon her. She stopped at the table. As she suspected it would be, there was a pitcher of water there on a tray with several goblets arranged around it. She picked up the pitcher and poured a generous amount in a goblet. Then she put the pitcher down, picked up the goblet and downed the entire contents. The Sheriff's left eyebrow shot north. What was she up to? Then she sighed, wiped her lips, put the goblet down on the table, and looked to everyone gathered there - everyone but the Sheriff.

"Leave us." She demanded of them.

The men just sat there regarding her strangely.

"I said: leave us!" She shouted.

The Sheriff sighed and rolled his eyes. He looked to his men. "It's alright. You know your orders. Leave us then." He said.

The men arose from their seats and left them to their privacy.

"What is it, Rhiannon?" The Sheriff asked, exasperated.

She unrolled the parchment and held it out to show him.

"What's the meaning of this?" She demanded.

"They are wanted for kidnapping." The Sheriff said. He swallowed. Why would she concern herself with this? He didn't think she would care if she saw the proclamations. She didn't remember their child?

"Well, you're mistaken!" Rhiannon said as she threw it on the table.

"This could've waited. I was meeting with my men." The Sheriff huffed. "You barge in here about this?"

"You're wrong. I know for a fact this man could not have kidnapped a child. He couldn't."

"Oh really? And how do you know this?" The Sheriff asked.

"Because I knew him. That man is dead." Rhiannon said.

"That's impossible!" The Sheriff retorted. "How do you know this?" He paused a moment before adding: "How did you know him?"

She wasn't sure why, but a little voice inside of her told her not to admit the man in the sketch was her brother.

"He lived in the village I came from in the north. He died two years ago." Rhiannon announced.

The Sheriff made a face. He was stunned by what she was saying, but it was as if she was holding back.

"If you knew him so well, who is he then?" The Sheriff asked.

"You mean – 'was'. I only knew him by his first name. He was Richard something or other." Rhiannon lied.

"Well, I know for a fact that the man in that sketch is alive and well, and has a child in custody that does not belong to him." The Sheriff said as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Whose child?" Rhiannon asked.

"What, my lady?" The Sheriff asked, though he heard her words loud and clear.

"Whose child does he have?" Lady Rhiannon asked again.

Here was the moment. The moment he dreaded. This was clearly not the right time to tell her. But, then again, the matter had been put off long enough.

The Sheriff cleared his throat and moved in slowly toward her. Rhiannon narrowed her eyes at him, demanding a response.

"Ours." The Sheriff said quietly, his eyes downcast.

"What?" Rhiannon asked.

"It is our child who was kidnapped." The Sheriff said.

Lady Rhiannon stared at him shaking her head. A smile began to form and slowly spread across her face. And then…she began to giggle.

"My lady?" The Sheriff said. This was not the reaction he was expecting from her.

"You must be jesting!" Lady Rhiannon chortled. "Is that the best you can come up with? You expect me to believe that we had a child and I have forgotten all about it?" She laughed. "Please." Rhiannon sighed. She moved toward the table and began to pour another goblet of water. She picked it up and began to drink. The Sheriff stood looking at her with his jaw slightly agape and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Why can't you just be honest with me?" Rhiannon asked in between sips. "Is it too much to ask?"

"None of what I'm saying is a lie." The Sheriff said.

She looked over to meet his gaze. He looked serious? She sighed. He wasn't going to tell her the truth. That was very clear. He could be so obstinate sometimes!

"Alright, you know what? Forget it. I don't know what this is about, and I don't want to know. But I'm here to tell you the man in that sketch is not responsible. You don't have to say another word about the matter if that's your best excuse. Just know that he is dead." Rhiannon said. Then she turned and exited the room leaving the Sheriff standing there, stunned and speechless. She couldn't even believe him when he spoke truth? Why was she being so difficult? And why did she storm into the chamber when she knew he was meeting with his staff? Why would she barge into a meeting? He thought a moment. It came to him. This was personal. The man in that sketch must have been important to her for her to go to such lengths to get the Sheriff's attention. His eyes widened. Of course! Who was this Richard character to Lady Rhiannon? He decided to go after her to find out. As he ran down the length of the corridor on the main floor the young blond page saw him coming and ran beside him.

"My Lord, sir!" The page called.

The Sheriff stopped and turned to face him. "What do you want, you little runt?" The Sheriff barked.

"I have a message for you, sire." The page said. He held out a scroll toward the Sheriff. The Sheriff took it.

"Is it from Duke Farnsworth?" The Sheriff asked hurriedly.

"No, sir." The page replied.

"Then I'll read it later." The Sheriff said. He put the scroll under his belt and continued running toward the private chambers.

Lady Rhiannon entered the private chambers a little breathless from the run. She walked into the bed chamber, closed the doors behind her and headed toward the table below the mirror beside the window. The flask of potion was still there under her scarf. She never had a chance to move it, the Sheriff was always with her whenever she was in this room. She picked up the flask, removed the stopper and poured it into a goblet. The Sheriff would most likely be following her. She needed to hide the flask. She heard the doors fly open into the den. She turned around. The Sheriff was just outside of this chamber. She had to think fast. She looked to the bed directly in front of her. Beyond the bed were the doors where the Sheriff would be coming through any moment. She walked toward the bed and bent down. She was placing the flask there under the bed when the doors flew open. He looked around, and could see the top of her head on the other side of the bed. He had caught her crouched down on the floor.

"Rhiannon?" The Sheriff called to her. "What are you doing on the floor?"

She removed the silver and diamond comb from her hair. She held it in her hand as she stood up. "I was looking for this." She said as she held out her palm to show him.

"Listen, my lady. I was telling you the truth." The Sheriff said as he came toward her.

She turned and went back to the table and picked up the goblet of potion. She began to sip. "The truth about what?" Rhiannon asked when she turned to face him.

"Rhiannon." The Sheriff said sternly. What's going on with her? Was she on the verge of falling into another cursed slumber again?

"Well? Tell me. The truth about what?" Rhiannon asked again.

The Sheriff shook his head. "What we spoke of just now, in the Council Quarters! You came to see me about the proclamations." He said, trying to keep his temper at a low simmer.

"Proclamations?" Rhiannon asked as she slowly sipped her potion. The Sheriff wouldn't know – unless he tasted it. The liquid was colourless.

"The ones about the man and his wife wanted for kidnapping. Don't play this game with me, lady! Who was he to you, Rhiannon?" The Sheriff demanded.

"Whom?" Rhiannon asked.

"That man. Richard, you said. You told me he was dead." The Sheriff pointed out. Why did he have to repeat everything she just said to him? She genuinely appeared bewildered by everything he was telling her!

"I don't know a Richard." Rhiannon said.

"Who is he, then?" The Sheriff asked as he came in close and put his hands upon her shoulders.

"Who? I don't know what you're talking about!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"You just barged into my staff meeting to tell me this, and you're telling me you've already forgotten it?" The Sheriff asked, incredulous.

"I really don't know what you're referring to." Rhiannon said.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. She was lying. He could not control the jealous fury that suddenly overcame him.

"He isn't dead, is he, my dear? You want him spared because he once courted you. I'm right, aren't I? That is the reason for your outburst in the Council Quarters." The Sheriff challenged. She wanted to play this game? He could see right through it!

"Let go of me!" Rhiannon shouted as she fought her way free. "How dare you accuse me of this!" She was beginning to tremble. The Sheriff noticed. She was keyed up as tight as a harp string. She was holding something back. He didn't know what it was, but it was clear she was hiding something from him.

She brought the goblet up to her lips, made a subtle attempt to hold her breath and began to drink the remaining contents of the potion. She made a face. It was vile. She turned back to the table. There was a pitcher of water there. She picked it up and poured some water into the goblet.

"He must have been very important to you to call the matter to my attention in the way that you did." The Sheriff remarked.

Rhiannon turned around. "I told you I don't know what you're talking about!" She cried.

"Alright. We'll play it your way." The Sheriff remarked sarcastically.

"I'm not playing at anything." Rhiannon said.

"On the contrary, my lady. You're playing at something, and I'm going to find out what it is." The Sheriff warned.

"Oh really?" Rhiannon asked facetiously.

"Weren't you the one who said you couldn't look me in the eye and lie to me?" The Sheriff reminded her. He moved in toward her until he was inches away from her. He spun her around to face him. He placed his fingers underneath her chin and tilted it up until she met his gaze with her aqua green eyes. He sighed and raised his eyebrow. She tried to control her breathing.

"You're lying to me now, Rhiannon. I know it. You are hiding something from me and I intend to find out what that something is. Everything points to it, so don't try to deny it." The Sheriff seethed.

She moved her eyes downward. She couldn't look at him any longer.

"Look at me." The Sheriff demanded.

She raised her eyes to look into his dark amber eyes. They pierced into hers as he spoke.

"What are you hiding?" He demanded.

"Nothing, my lord." She lied. She looked down. Behind him was the bed. She couldn't see it, but she knew the flask was still there under the bed.

"I'm going to find out, so you might as well come out with it now." The Sheriff said.

"There's nothing to say." Rhiannon sighed.

The Sheriff shook his head. "You're sure?"

"Yes." Rhiannon said. She moved away and went to sit on the bed.

This was impossible. She was impossible! He sighed. He suddenly remembered the scroll. He pulled it from under his belt. He broke the seal and unrolled it. How curious? It was from Lady Rebeccah. The Sheriff began to read:

" My Lord Sheriff;

I thought it was in your best interest to inform you that Lady Marian Dubois is visiting in Nottingham. I've seen her. There's something about her demeanor that troubles me. I know something of the history of you and Lady Marian. I knew you would want to know.

Sincerely,

Lady Rebeccah."

The Sheriff shook his head. Another problem. The problem he thought was solved a long time ago when she fled to London – never to return again. She chooses now of all times to return! Surely she wouldn't come looking for him? Does she know about Rhiannon? What would she tell her if she met Rhiannon? She was the one person he never told Rhiannon about! He drew in a sigh and put the scroll on the table beside him.

"My Lord? Not troubling news I hope?" Rhiannon asked, suddenly interrupting his thoughts.

The Sheriff smiled. "No, my lady. Just business as usual. Nothing for you to worry about." The Sheriff replied with a tinge of guilt. Now who was keeping secrets?

"Business." Rhiannon sighed. "You don't have any business to attend to now do you?"

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes as he regarded her. Her moods were so mercurial lately. Was he mistaken or was she attempting to seduce him?

"Well, no. I don't have anything pressing at the moment." He replied.

"Good. I know what you need. Something to do with leisure." Rhiannon hinted.

"Is that so?" The Sheriff asked as he moved in toward her. "And didn't you just ask me to let go of you a moment ago?" He reminded her.

"That was then." Rhiannon grinned. "But now is a whole other chapter."

He sat on the bed beside her and leaned in toward her. He stroked her hair and her cheek. "My lady, you are always full of surprises." He smiled.

"Good. I would never want to be predictable." Rhiannon said.

"No, my lady. Never predictable. That's what excites me about you." The Sheriff said. He moved in closer and kissed her. His kiss was soft, warm, and full of desire. Suddenly, she forgot what it was that he said to anger her before.

"I take it you're no longer angry?" The Sheriff asked when he broke the kiss.

"No. Not anymore. You see – it's all your fault." Rhiannon sighed as she kissed his cheek, then tickled his earlobe with her tongue. She was driving him wild with desire for her.

"My fault? What do you mean, my angel?" He breathed. He knew she'd come up with a clever reply. She did not disappoint.

"It is you. No matter how angry you make me, every time I see you, I want to do with you what we're doing right now. You drive me to madness." Rhiannon murmured.

"Oh, my lady." The Sheriff sighed. "What you do to me…" He breathed as he began to untie the laces on her bodice. He loosened them until the edges fell away. Her perfect breasts came into focus. She could feel his warm breath upon them, he was that close to her. She sighed.

"I hope I can always make you forget your duties." Rhiannon smiled up at him.

"If I ever choose my duties over you, that's when I'll know I have reached the lowest point of my life." The Sheriff said. He leaned down into her ear. "I shall always choose you." He whispered. His soft whiskers tickled her neck. His breath upon her ear made her melt. Her heart quickened.

"My love…" Rhiannon breathed. She put her hand on the back of his neck and brought his face down to hers. Their eyes locked before she kissed him. Suddenly she longed to be his wife.

The Sheriff knew she was keeping something from him. But he couldn't think about it. Not now. The truth was he could never stay angry with her. Nobody would ever come between them. Not even Lady Marian.

"George?" Rhiannon whispered.

He stopped and gazed down upon her. "Yes?" He asked.

"He's dead." She murmured.

"Who is dead?" The Sheriff asked, stunned by her words at a moment such as this.

"Robert." She answered.

"Who?" He asked.

"The man in the proclamation." Rhiannon replied.

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes. Already he caught her in a lie.

"I thought you said his name was Richard?" The Sheriff asked gruffly, unable to hide the fury rising within him again.

"Richard…Robert…who knows? They're all the same to me." Rhiannon sighed.

"Drop it, Rhiannon. Whomever that man is, he will pay for not coming forward. He has our child." The Sheriff said.

Rhiannon burst into giggling. "You can stop with the act, George, for it's completely killing the mood." She said.

"My lady…I'm not acting." The Sheriff said quietly as he looked into her eyes.

"No. Don't do this, George. Please don't do this to me." Rhiannon pleaded.

"What, my lady?" He asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Don't tease me like this. Not now. Let's just forget about that man's crime, I don't want to know. I do not care. Not now." Rhiannon whispered. It couldn't be Robert. Robert was dead. So whomever that man was who closely resembled her brother, she would not think on it a moment longer. Certainly not now.

The Sheriff paused a moment before responding as he gazed into her eyes. Her eyes were pleading with him. As he stared into the aqua depths they told him she did not remember anything of their child, and that all she wanted from him now, was his love. He smiled.

"Alright, my lady. As you wish. We'll talk more about this at a later date." The Sheriff said.

"Much later." She whispered as she leaned forward to kiss him. "I want to make you happy, my sweet prince." She breathed.

The Sheriff sighed. Even when she angered him, everything about her was mesmerizing. Even her terms of endearment for him sent chills down his spine. He realized that no matter how much she could enrage him, or make him jealous, he could never love another like her.