"There!" Robin said jauntily, shutting the doors of the stables behind him to keep out the rain. "Wasn't that a better idea, borrowing a pair of boots?"

Annora, wishing he'd carried her, disagreed, but she didn't really care. They were alone, finally alone, but they didn't have much time. His wife might be along any moment.

"Now this," Robin was saying proudly, still under the delusion she wanted to see his horses, "is Veillantif!" Fondly stroking the horse's muzzle, he chuckled. "No, it's only me," he grinned. Turning back to Annora, he explained, "My wife usually spoils them all, with apples."

Annora was staring at him with an odd look on her face, but a sudden rustle in some hay made her leap at him in fear.

"Are there rats?" she gasped.

"No. No rats. An occasional mouse, but not usually this time of year. We ought to get a stable cat, but my wife doesn't like-"

Suddenly, he found himself pulled and pressed up against her, her lips burning against his own.

Stunned, he shook her off and stepped away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He didn't speak, just stood staring at her with his mouth hanging open in surprise.

"So," he managed to say at last, "you didn't really want to see my horse."

"I love you!" she breathed, joyfully.

No matter how many times something like this happened to him, he still had a hard time handling it. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to hurt a woman, and they always got hurt, unless he gave in. Which, of course, now that he was happily married, was out of the question.

"Annora," he began, completely uncomfortable, "I'm truly sorry if I did anything to mislead you to this...point. I love my wife. Please, let's just forget this ever happened, alright?"

"What are you saying?" she asked, her dreams dashed. "No. You love me, Robin Hood! Our souls, at the party...our souls came together! We...we..." She faltered, her lower lip trembling. To Robin's alarm, she burst into tears.

He wasn't sure what to do, his mind quickly replaying the scene at her husband's party. He'd done nothing, he was certain, to make her think he cared. But one thing was sure now...he mustn't offer her the comfort of his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said again, truly meaning it.

Somehow, he felt he must have misled her. She must be terribly lonely and neglected in her marriage to seek affection elsewhere, but it wouldn't do for him to befriend her too kindly, not with her feeling so much attraction towards him. He pitied her, and his heart grieved, but he could do nothing.

He was also annoyed, feeling the insult toward his wife and child. "Perhaps you should go," he told her. "I'll fetch your driver, and your slippers."

Surprising them both, a child's voice piped up. "I'll get them, Master Robin."

"So, you're our mouse!" Happy and relieved, Robin grinned at the boy. "This, Mistress Fitzhugh, is Daniel, our stable boy; once, an honorary member of my gang."

Annora turned aching, red eyes on the boy. He'd been spying the entire time. He ought to be whipped!

Her nose was running, and she couldn't stop crying. It hurt so badly! He didn't want her? Of course he did! He must! She sobbed anew.

"Come right back," Robin told the child, wishing he could go himself. "Here. Take my cape. It's raining, if you hadn't noticed! And when you've done your mission," and he winked, "there's fresh bread and a pot of mutton stew in the kitchen."

"I'll go!" Daniel said, eyes shining, leaving Robin and Annora alone, he feeling awkward, she, wretchedly miserable.

...

Annora's grief continued to swell, once the truth set firmly in. Back in Nottingham Castle, she took to her bed in grief, unable to stop crying.

Alarmed, her serving maid fetched her husband, interrupting him from his duties.

James Fitzhugh felt highly irritated to be called away from important matters by his wife's foolish tears. Nonetheless, he strode into Annora's bedchamber to learn what was wrong.

"What's happened to you, Annora?" he barked. "Look at me when I address you."

He was startled when she rolled over and faced him. Her face, already pale, was pallid. Her eyes were so red and puffy, they were almost swollen shut.

"You must stop this nonsense and tell me what happened," Fitzhugh ordered her. "You will make yourself sick, girl, if you keep this up."

"I can't tell you!" she wailed.

"You must!"

Annora's pillow was wet on both sides, but she couldn't seem to stop crying.

Her husband, almost satisfied, guessed his version of the truth. "He threw you over, didn't he?" he guessed, his voice cold with disdain.

Annora gasped. At all costs, she couldn't let her husband know what she'd done! "No! Who?" she asked, frightened.

"The Earl of Huntington," Fitzhugh coldly replied. "What, girl? Did you think I didn't know? As gratifying as I found your recent passion, I found it less so when you screamed another's man's name in our marriage bed."

Annora stopped crying. She held her breath, frightened what her husband would do to her.

"Don't be afraid, my dear," he told her, cold and threatening. "I know all about Locksley. He seduced you, didn't he, then tossed you aside, when he'd had his fill."

"No, he didn't!"

"He didn't? Don't tell me he forced himself on you!"

"NO!"

"Because, Annora, if he did, you would be blameless, you know."

The only sound in the room came from Annora, sniffling.

She was terrified and confused, believing her heart broken. She didn't speak, but only listened, while her husband wove his web.

"My poor, poor darling!" James Fitzhugh said. "When did it happen, Annora? When did he take you by force?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide with fear.

"A fortnight ago, in Oxford? Or was it here, in Nottinghamshire? Don't be afraid, girl. Tell me everything. No blame will fall upon you. You were an innocent! He was the predator, luring you with his honeyed words, and his looks of love."

"Yes," she whispered, picturing again the sincere look in his eyes, when they'd first met. "He deceived me," she admitted.

"My poor sweet. When did he hurt you? Today?"

"Yes. Today. In his stables, in Locksley."

Fitzhugh sucked in his breath, angry yet triumphant. "My sweet! Rest assured, this changes nothing between us! You are not to blame. Now, tell me again, to seal it in your mind. You will be required, my dear, to tell your story in a courtroom of law, and you must not change a single detail. Do I make myself clear?"

"Courtroom?" Annora cried. "Why? I-"

"Locksley must pay for his crimes, my dear. Too long, he has gotten away with his thievery and brutalities. King John will be only too pleased, when he learns I've got Locksley where he wants him, in a dungeon cell."

"He didn't!" Annora sobbed. "He didn't touch me!"

Fitzhugh clicked his tongue. "Now, now, my sweet! I know it's embarrassing for you. But you must be brave and tell the truth. If you do not, Annora, I fear things will go poorly for you."

Her eyes grew wide, staring up at the cold, powerful, ruthless man she'd married.

"You mentioned his stables," he reminded her. "Tell me, my sweet, what happened there today, to make you so distraught?"

Annora hesitated, then made up her mind.

"He raped me," she told him, dissolving into fresh tears.