"Horsie," Ellen was saying excitedly, perched on her mother's lap.
"Yes. I see you have your horsie. Robin," Marian wondered, eyeing their daughter's soft toy horse, "it's not bad for her, is it, to chew so much on its nose?"
Robin grinned, the presence of his daughter dispelling the recent tension between himself and Marian. "Not for her. Now, the horse, on the other hand...! But she likes it, don't you, Boo?" he grinned.
Ellen gurgled with laughter, when her daddy pretended to chomp down on her toy.
"Mama's horsie," she said, trying to be understood.
"What about Llanrei, dear?" Marian asked.
Ellen drew down her brows, shook her head, and pointed to the window.
"I don't think she means Llanrei," Robin said slyly, lifting their daughter onto his lap instead. With a wink and a smile, he advised, "Take a look outside."
Marian didn't say anything, but rose from the bed and walked toward the window, a flicker of excitement within her. Robin hadn't bought her a horse at the fair, had he? The only one worth anything was the dappled grey who'd almost won the horse race.
When she saw Ian leading that very horse in the yard below, she gasped and broke into a smile.
"He's all yours," Robin told her.
"What's his name?" she asked, still smiling at the horse below.
"You might want to rename him. He's called Pox."
"Pox? No, I'll keep his name. Makes him sound dangerous."
She rejoined him on their bed, and Robin found a set of blocks for Ellen to play with. Unable to stop smiling, Marian kissed him, saying, "Thank you."
"That's not the best part," he told her, grinning. "I bought him for you, because he needs a skilled rider. Would have beaten my horse in that race, with you on his back."
"I thought so, too."
"Which means, I'm going to have to really work my horse hard this year, so we can beat you on Pox at next year's fair."
Marian didn't speak, letting his meaning soak in. Hope soared high, then reality returned. "But, Robin, I'm a woman. I can't enter the horse race."
"Believe me, I know what sex you are. But you can, and you will. Seems a shame, the fastest rider in the shire, not allowed to enter the race. About time we changed the rules, if you ask me. And, I have a bit of a say what goes on in my own shire. I'm an earl, you know."
"I know, you fool! And as much as I want to, we just can't. People would be angry, especially when they place their bets on you, and I win."
"But you won't. I intend to beat you."
"You couldn't beat me, and you know it. I proved it, when I won before."
"Which is why I insist upon a rematch."
Marian sucked in her breath, deciding, then jubilantly threw her arms around his neck, covering his face with kisses.
Laughing, he said, "I guess this means it's a plan."
Her eyes were misty as she told him, "I don't know how to thank you."
"You'll think of something."
He still had the power to take her breath away. She lay back in his arms, while their little girl stacked blocks at the foot of their bed.
"Robin," Marian said, turning serious, "we need to talk."
"I know."
"I don't want you trying to get my ring from Isabella. I don't you anywhere near her."
"I won't be alone. Much will be with me."
"Much?"
"Alright then...John."
"John? Sneaking into the castle, in the dead of night?"
"He's done it before."
"How nobody heard his heavy footsteps is beyond me."
"Alright then...Allan."
Marian merely stared back at him.
"Will."
"Why not Djaq? Because she's a woman?"
"Yes. Believe it or not, my love, I did all I could to shield Djaq from danger, when we lived in the forest."
"There is another member of your gang, you know, who might like very much to accompany you on your mission."
While she got up and rummaged through a drawer, Robin objected, "I'm sorry, Marian. It's out of the question."
She returned to face him, wearing his outlaw tag around her neck. And while Robin felt his tag had never looked so good, he shook his head, grimly.
"I promised your father I'd protect you," he said, making her catch her breath again. "I haven't done a very good job, so far. I mean to do better, Marian."
"Let me make a proposal," she told him, climbing on her knees on the bed. "Either, we perform your plan together, or you let me perform mine, alone."
"And what's your plan?" he asked, suspiciously.
"Promise me you won't shout."
"I don't shout at you." There was a brief pause. "Do I shout?" he asked, almost bewilderedly.
She nodded her head.
Robin reached for her, and drew her close against him. "I'm sorry, Wren. I don't want to. I don't want to be that sort of husband."
"Robin, you are a practically perfect husband."
"Practically?" he asked, his eyes still sad, above his grin.
"Well, there's still time to improve. But, yes." She kissed his cheek. "You're wonderful to me. And you're a wonderful father."
He was truly moved, and his kiss told her just how much her words meant to him.
"Now," she said, returning to the matter at hand. "Listen to my plan, and make your choice. The two of us, together, with you in charge, or me alone. I think you'll find my plan much more practical, and far safer."
"Safer's good. Alright, my love. Tell me. Just what do you propose?"