Marian awoke late the following morning refreshed from sleep, and glad to be home. Sounds of her household and village, already up and busy about their tasks, not to mention the smell of freshly baked bread wafting upward from the kitchen, caused her to realize she couldn't tarry any more in bed, as much as she would like to.

But one or two moments more couldn't hurt, she reasoned, for it was rare that she awoke before her husband, and she couldn't help but enjoy watching Robin sleep.

He lay sprawled out naked on their bed, asleep on his belly, the bedclothes tangled around his ankles. Marian knew he must have fallen asleep exhausted, for he only slept in that position when overly tired, normally sleeping on his back or side.

For that matter, she couldn't even remember going to bed herself, only having a vivid recollection of leaving the castle and riding with Robin in their coach. And sometime later, a dim one, almost like a dream, of Robin removing her garters and stockings, and her objecting that she was "too tired."

Last night's finery, she noticed, including those stockings and garters, lay folded neatly over the top of a chest, leaving her comfortably clothed in her chemise, and she was grateful to have such a tender, loving husband, who must have carried her to bed, and carefully undressed her during the night.

Awakening, Robin rolled onto his back, and Marian immediately covered him with her body.

"Good morning, Handsome," she greeted him with a kiss, then nuzzled her smooth cheek against his bristly one.

He was still groggy, which was rare, for he typically woke up alert, like a spark struck from flintrock. The day was overcast, so he didn't realize how late it was, but he adored waking up with Marian in his arms. His body sprang to life, even if his head still remained foggy.

"It's gloomy today, so you'd better not take Ellie on your rounds," Marian told him, already thinking about the day ahead. "Besides, since I'm stuck here, I'll enjoy having her with me."

Robin's only response was to stroke her cheek, then tilt his head to reach for her lips. When the kiss ended, Marian questioned, "You put me to bed last night, didn't you?"

"You were funny," he remembered, shaking the cobwebs from his brain. "Thought I was trying to seduce you, when I was only being chivalrous, helping you to bed."

"Sorry. I must have been half asleep."

"You know me better than that, Marian," he said, his voice warm and caressing. "Now, if I were trying to seduce you, I might try something more along the lines of..."

Gasping in delight, Marian joyfully gave in to the desire welling up inside her, forgetting the late hour, and how much needed to be done today. After all, a few moments more in bed surely couldn't hurt.

...

As much as he adored his daughter, Robin was pleased to leave her at home today, for he had an errand besides his rounds to his villages which wouldn't be right for Ellen to witness.

A soft rain was beginning to fall, and Robin was glad of the protection of his hooded cloak, more to cover his identity than to protect him from the rain. He preferred it wouldn't get out that he was stepping over puddles in Gropecunt Street, looking for the bawdy house called The Cherry Pit.

Allan had told him where he would be sure to find Maggie, though had warned him the girls would not give him a warm welcome, so early in the day. Relatively early, Robin thought, for it was well past noon by the time he knocked on the door.

After more time on the doorstep than Robin liked, a female voice finally called back through the closed door, "Come back later! We're not open yet!"

"I come in friendship, not as a customer," Robin answered back, politely. "I'm here to visit Maggie. Is she here?"

He had to leap back, when a chamber pot was nearly emptied onto his head from an upper story window. Luckily, he was quick and nimble on his feet.

"Tell her," he persistantly continued, not about to be denied entrance to the house of ill repute, "that her friend, the 'snotty nosed lord with the smashed in face' needs her help."

The door creaked open a crack, and a woman, much in need of sleep and extensive beauty treatments, peered suspiciously out at him. "You a lord?" she asked.

Robin briskly nodded, shaking raindrops from his hood.

"It'll cost you more, just setting foot inside the door," she warned him.

"Let him in," Maggie's voice ordered. "Wouldn't be right, if someone seen him and tells his wife he was here."

The door was flung open, and Robin stepped inside the Cherry Pit, smiling thanks at Maggie.

"What're you doing here?" she scolded. "I know you're not here for what most gents come for! Besides, I wouldn't have you, if you were! What do you mean, pulling me outta bed at such an hour?"

Robin wasn't surprised to see Maggie looking nothing like her professional self, clothed in a plain, thick robe, without any paint on her face. He actually liked the look of her better, for there was a sprinkling of freckles over her cheeks, which reminded him of his daughter.

"You look nice," he said approvingly. "Forgive me the hour. I wouldn't have come, but I need your help."

"Oh, Maggie can help you alright, for the right price," the ugly whore who'd opened the door hooted.

"Shut up!" Maggie barked. "This lord might not be much to look at, but he's alright, once you get to know him."

"Come back tonight with a full purse, Sweety, and I'll be glad to get to know you," the ugly tart told Robin, pulling back his hood and ruffling his hair.

"That's very kind," he answered, stepping back somewhat nervously, "but I'm only here for Maggie." Looking at his short, buxom, henna haired friend, he asked, "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Talk!" the other woman hooted, holding her sides as she bent over laughing.

"Don't mind her," Maggie frowned. "Nobody does. Come in here," she suggested, leading Robin into a back kitchen and helping herself to some stale bread. "You want something to eat?"

"No thank you."

"Drink?"

"I've eaten. Maggie," Robin continued, wanting to complete his business as soon as possible, "thank you for seeing me. Like I said, I need your help."

Maggie didn't respond, her mouth busy chewing on the hard loaf she was eating, but Robin could tell she was listening. He continued.

"I wonder whether I could borrow some of your jewels, just for a day? I need them to get a pair of my wife's earrings back."

"My jewels?" Maggie asked, washing down her bread with a cup of watered ale. "What do you want with them for? They ain't real."

"I realize that, which is what makes them so perfect for my plan. I'll pay you for their use, if you'd like. Rent them to me, Maggie. Marian would be very grateful. You see, the earrings I'm talking about were a gift, on our little girl's first birthday, and..."

"I'll do it," Maggie decided, "and not even charge you a hae penny, neither. Who knows? Maybe some dimwitted gent'll give me some more, when I explain I don't have any jewels to wear."

"I'll be the dimwit and buy you whatever you want, once Marian gets her earrings back," Robin grinned. "Thank you."