"Greek Fire," Robin panted, flinging himself back on the pillows, exhausted but smiling.

Marian was smiling, too. The bustling sounds throughout their house and yard alerted them that Robin's overnight return had been discovered, but they weren't quite ready to get up yet.

"What about Greek Fire?" she asked, her dimples deepening as she guessed his meaning.

Gathering her to him, he ran his fingers through her hair, his face alight with happiness. "Vaisey wouldn't have needed to search for Lambert's ledger," he teased her, bragging, "if he'd known, all he had to do was lock me up with you!"

Marian, grinning proudly, snuggled closer. Reaching for his hand, she moved it down so that it covered her belly, and gently kissed him.

"It's good to have you back," she sighed.

"It's good to be back. In fact, it's very good!" He kissed her breathlessly, then, touching his nose to hers, asked, "How are you feeling?"

"What do you think?"

His grin turned sheepish. "I mean, my love, while I was away. Still no morning sickness?"

"None at all! I feel wonderful. Just a bit more tired than usual, is all."

"Got to be a boy, then! I told you, boys are easier than girls!"

"You're the expert now, are you?"

"How's Ellie? Did she miss me? I bought her something at a fair. Look, I'll show you."

Robin's excitement reminded Marian how boyish her husband could be at times, and she enjoyed it, knowing him also to be thoughtful, kind, and fully capable to handle any situation. Her appreciative eyes drank in his strong, handsome form, as he made his way across the room to dig through a knapsack he'd carried on his trip.

Seeing him from the back clearly showed the small shaved spot on the top of his head, called a "tonsure," worn by men in holy orders.

Sitting up and trying to untangle a sheet to partially cover her, Marian gave up and called out, "Robin! You promised to tell me why you shaved your head!"

"I didn't shave it all," he snickered, swaggering back towards her with a small stuffed horse in his hands. Tossing it onto her lap, he eagerly asked, "Think she'll like this? You're gorgeous, you know, Marian."

"She'll love it."

Marian felt a warm glow as she looked at the brown leather toy Robin had bought for Ellen. Its eyes were painted on, and it boasted a thick mane and tail made of flax, with no parts small enough for their fifteen-month-old to choke on.

Sitting down beside his wife on their bed, Robin bragged, "She'll be as fine a horsewoman as you one day!"

"We'll just have to wait and see," Marian answered. "But I want to know about this haircut of yours!"

When she reached up to vigorously rub his stubbly bald spot, a scuffle ensued. But Marian held herself back, refusing to even let him kiss her, until he'd told his story.

"Alright, you win," he laughed. "I'll tell you." Handing her a robe, he explained, "You know, of course, King John has a new chancellor."

"Continue."

"Well, judging from John's past appointments as prince, I doubted I'd like him. And I decided, the best way to judge a man, is to learn what his wife thinks of him."

Marian lifted her eyebrows and stared inquisitively at her husband, not sure she liked what she'd just heard.

"Go on," she said tersely. "I assume the wife is middle aged, and matronly."

"No, she's not. She's scarcely nineteen. Some might call her a beauty, if you like that sort."

"What 'sort' is that?"

Robin snickered, amused by Marian's jealousy. "You, my love, have nothing to worry about! She can't touch you, in any regard. She's not only pale and wispy, she's somewhat stupid."

Marian smiled, satisfied. "You don't sound very chivalrous, Locksley."

"Sorry. I'm telling you the truth. Do you think I should have a bath?"

"You need one. You smell like horses. Luckily for you, I happen to like horses." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she coaxed, "But go on. Tell me the rest."

"Horses?" He sniffed, and joked, "All I can smell is roses. But, alright! When I arrived in Oxford, I heard James Fitzhugh, the new chancellor, was hosting a party at his house. As Earl of Huntington, I was invited, but I thought I could learn more about the man, if I went in disguise."

"So you went as a priest?" Marian was incredulous.

"A humble monk, rather. I didn't want to draw attention to myself."

"And you spent your time at the party, talking to Fitzhugh's wife."

"Annora, yes."

Marian, pulling away, shot him a furious glance.

"Marian! I told you I went as a monk! There was a reason I chose that particular disguise. I knew, if I went as myself, I could charm the silly girl and learn all I needed to, but I'm a happily married man. I chose a monk's disguise, because of you."

Marian trusted his intent, but not this Annora. "Take your bath," she advised. "It's time we were up. You may tell me the rest, over breakfast."