The chancellor's wife, having no idea of her husband's plans or daily activities, was free to make plans of her own.
Annora's heart was racing faster than her husband's carriage, as she jostled inside it on her way to the village of Locksley.
She was dressed in her finest jewels and silks, powdered and perfumed, eager to see HIM again. She would somehow steer him away from his country bred wife, and their souls would commune together, the way they had at her husband's party, when he'd worn a monk's disguise.
Should she scold him, flirtatiously, of course, for fooling her in that monk's robe? She thought not. Not yet. His wife seemed a big enough scold. Annora would show him, not all women were such shrews. She couldn't wait!
But she would have to. Unbeknownst to her, the object of her desire had passed her enroute, heading the opposite direction astride his spirited destrier, on his way to Nottingham and the Council of Nobles.
Arriving at last at Locksley, Annora looked eagerly about her as she stepped down from her carriage, hoping to see the lord of the manor rushing to greet her. Instead, she found herself staring into the face of his wife, who was balancing a small child on her hip.
His child? The hair was the same, a soft sandy brown. Annora hadn't thought about him being a father. There wasn't any mention in the Robin Hood ballads that she could remember, of a child! She turned fierce eyes on Marian.
"Welcome," Marian greeted her politely, but with unmistakable coldness. "I did not expect to see you again so soon, Mistress Fitzhugh. Did you leave something here yesterday, perhaps?"
Annora frowned, growing flustered by the wife's regal demeanor. How dare this plainly dressed country woman treat the wife of England's Chancellor so...so... Annora couldn't describe the ill treatment she imagined herself receiving.
A child! She couldn't get over it. And the lass on his wife's hip wasn't his only one! The wife, helping some village peasants make cheese, wore an apron tied under her breasts, which clearly showed her condition Annora had only previously suspected.
One child, and another on the way! No! No! It wasn't fair! And his wife...helping to make cheese!
She may have been born to priviledge, and be called "Lady" and "Countess," but who was more finely dressed, Annora was thinking. Who looks to be the Lady now?
"Is...is Lord Locksley at home?" Annora asked, more timidly than she liked. Something about the woman's imperial stare made her cower.
"Unfortunately, no. He's in Nottingham, attending a meeting with your husband, Mistress Fitzhugh."
"Oh, no!" Annora blurted out, stamping her foot. She couldn't believe she rode all this way, when she might have seen Him, without his wife, in Nottingham.
Without so much as a goodbye, Annora stepped back inside her carriage and ordered her driver to "make haste" and hurry back to the castle. Marian rolled her eyes.
"Poor Daddy," Marian told Ellen. "He has no idea what he's done."
...
After the disastrous Council of Nobles, Robin soothed Much's anxiety by sticking to his promise of an ale at the Trip to Jerusalem Inn.
Walking into the Trip, they were greeted by the popular proprietor, Allan a Dale, who hooted with laughter at Robin and Much's attire.
"John!" Allan called, drawing Little John's attention. "Take a look at the fine lords!"
Little John smiled and snorted, pleased to see his friends, even if they were bedecked in rich clothing.
Much was wearing a long, blue, richly embroidered robe, but Robin wore his customary ordinary looking clothing, with one exception. To cover the shaved spot on his crown, still not fully grown back, he had borrowed one of Much's elaborate hats, knowing a hood wouldn't have been acceptable attire at the Council of Nobles. He had no problem flaunting authority, if he didn't respect its source, but his manners were polished, and he knew better than to appear too casual.
Allan, delighted to see his friends, couldn't resist teasing them.
"What will your fine lordships have to drink, oi?"
"What do you think, Dunderhead?" Much asked. "All you serve is ale. Am I right? And don't water it down!"
Allan threw up his hands. "What? Would I do such a thing?"
"Two ales," Robin grinned, relaxing in the company of his friends. "No, wait. John, you want another?"
Little John grunted his approval.
"Make it three," Robin said, slapping down a few coins on the table.
Allan straddled a bench and joined them. "Oi, Constance!" he cheerfully called. "Four ales!"
Robin's eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dimness of the tavern, or Allan would never have beaten his cat quick reflexes and been able to pull the hat off his head. "Oi!" Allan shouted out, spying Robin's priestly haircut. "Not bein' funny, but Marian finally scare you away?"
"Hardly," Robin grinned, grabbing back the hat and replacing it on his head. "I did this," he said, pointing to his crown, "to gather information."
"Nice one! I once shaved the top of my head, too, to gain admittance to a nunnery."
"Spare us the sordid details," Much advised.
"I'm good with nuns," Allan mentioned, with a wicked grin.
A loud clap of thunder made Robin down the rest of his ale. "I'd better go," he realized. "Much? You coming?"
Much, enjoying himself, shook his head. "I think I'll wait the storm out here," he decided. "You go ahead and ride through the downpour, Robin. But I'll take my hat, if you don't mind. No sense in it getting wet."
Robin happily relinquished it and bid his friends goodbye, laughing under his breath while Much told Allan the thunderclap had been due to his boasts about nuns, and Allan's answering argument.
...
He was nearly home, rain drenched and mud splattered, when Robin saw Annora's coach, stuck in a mud rut. Dismounting, he knocked on the door of her carriage.
Annora shrieked twice, first with fright, but then with delight, when she saw his dripping wet face.
"May I be of assistance?" he asked.
"Come in, come in!" she cried, shooing her driver back out into the rainstorm.
Robin objected. "I'll ruin your upholstrey," he explained, politely declining her offer of shelter. "But, if your driver doesn't mind a little rain, he could help me unstick you, and we can all be on our way."
The driver didn't mind. With Lord Locksley providing most of the muscle, they pushed and shoved the carriage out of the mud.
"Thank you!" Annora, heart soaring, bit her lips, then licked them, staring at Robin as he smiled a goodbye and swung himself up into the saddle.
"Turn around," she ordered her driver, as soon as Robin had galloped away. "Drive me back to Locksley."
...
Robin arrived home well in advance of Annora's slow moving carriage, having no idea she would follow him.
To his surprise, Marian came out into the rain to greet him.
"Who's the fool now?" Robin teased, beaming at her. "What are you doing out without a cloak, Lady Locksley? You'll catch a chill, you know."
"Are you saying you can't warm me?" she asked, getting as wet as he, in his arms.
"Is that a challenge?"
They kissed, not minding the rain one bit.