"No, Boo," Robin chuckled, amused by his daughter's antics. "Not in your mouth."
Marian, lying in bed with her eyes closed, listened and smiled drowsily, as Robin animated their chess pieces before Ellen's fascinated gaze.
"Horsies," Ellen named two of the pieces excitedly.
"You're right," Robin grinned. "Or, more precisely, knights. The bold and brave Sir Robin, and the evil and treacherous Sir Guy."
Marian's smile turned to a pout, and she would have rolled her eyes, had they been open. Robin, meanwhile, was making a great show of making the knights' heads collide.
"So die all traitors!" he announced, enjoying himself immensely as he made the white knight triumph over the black. "Into the moat with you, Traitor!"
Marian was too sleepy to argue, but she showed her annoyance by rolling onto her side and showing Robin her back. Immediately, he flung himself over her, pressing kisses on her face until she couldn't help but smile again.
"Get off me, Handsome," she murmured, halfheartedly pushing him away, her condition making her sleepy.
"Castle," Ellen announced, holding up another chess piece.
Robin sat back up, facing his daughter on the bed. "That's called a rook," he told her. "And here are the kings and queens. Good King Richard and his mother, Queen Eleanor, and these black ones are John and Isabella. Shall we toss them into the moat, too?"
"Yea!" Ellen cheered, clapping her tiny hands.
Robin flicked the black king and queen pieces off his bed, then introduced Ellen to the two bishops.
"Looks like Good is winning," he grinned. "Now, although not technically bishops, let's call the white piece Tuck, even if he is on the thin side, and the black-hearted fiend..." He glanced quickly at Marian's lovely sleeping face, making certain she wouldn't hear him, before continuing, "...Canon Berkley. I once knocked this monster down a flight of stairs. Should have broken his neck."
"Moat! Moat!" Ellen begged.
"You do it, Boo," Robin invited, growing somber, "in honor of your grandfather."
Ellen dropped the black bishop off the bed, then climbed onto her father's lap.
"More?" she asked hopefully, gazing up at him.
"I think that's all for now."
"Daddy sad?"
"Now, how did you know that? Not anymore, Boo. Not with you looking at me like that, nor with your mother sleeping safe and sound beside me."
"Shh," Ellen warned him, putting one finger to her lips.
"That's right," he whispered, grinning again. "We don't want to wake your mother. Now, who could that be?"
The sound of a carriage below in their yard drew Robin, with Ellen in his arms, to the window. He didn't speak, but groaned inwardly when he recognized Annora Fitzhugh stepping from her coach.
"I'm sorry, Madame," Thornton was trying to insist. "Master Robin is not to be disturbed."
"But I have to see him!" Annora cried, nearly hysterical.
"Come on, Boo," Robin sighed. "I have a feeling Mistress Fitzhugh won't give Thornton any peace, unless she hears firsthand she's not wanted."
Without putting Ellen down, Robin stepped into his boots and hobbled down his staircase.
"Robin!" Annora cried. "I must speak to you, alone."
"Whatever you have to say must be said before witnesses," Robin told her. "I haven't forgotten your accusations against me, when I was only trying to be polite and show you my horses. By the way, how is your husband enjoying the horse I sold him?"
"He's outraged with you, but I don't care. He found out you tricked him, and he's furious."
Robin couldn't help but smugly snicker, picturing James Fitzhugh trying to play the lord, upon a plow horse's back. "Is that why you're here, Annora? To warn me? Your husband doesn't frighten me."
When Thornton started to depart, Robin stopped him. "No. Stay," he told his faithful steward. "The more pairs of eyes and ears that witness this meeting, the better."
"But I have to see you alone!" Annora cried, breaking into tears.
Robin sighed again, frustrated by the young woman's tears. "Shh," he shushed her, trying to be patient. "It's alright."
His mistake was taking a single step toward her, for she took it as an invitation, flinging herself into his arms. More accurately, she flung herself against his chest, for his arms held tightly to Ellen. Annora lifted her face and began rapidly pecking kisses all over Robin's face and neck, while Ellen and Thornton watched, both of them wide-eyed.
"Annora, stop," Robin commanded. Why did this same scene happen to him, over and over? More times than he could count, a woman would feign distress, and he would offer comfort, only to be mauled by her, his lips ravaged by her kisses. When he'd been on his way home from war, believing he'd lost Marian, more often than not the scene had led to him falling into bed with the seemingly distressed woman. It was frustrating, he was thinking, wondering what flaw he possessed to make him fall for the same ploy over and over again.
"Well, if it isn't Mistress Annoying Fitzhugh," Allan's voice rang out. "Not bein' funny, Robin, but we didn't come here to rescue you."
Robin was relieved to see Allan and Will step through his front door.
"Mistress Fitzhugh was just leaving," Robin told his friends, puffing the air from his cheeks. "Don't tell Djaq I'm up," he mentioned to Will, with a wink.
Will, however, was all seriousness. "We've come to warn you, Robin," he said. "Allan overheard some guards at the Trip say there's going to be a fire in the orphanage later today."
"WHAT?"
"Robin!" Annora cried, hating being ignored.
"Shut up," Allan groaned.
"King John's threatening to burn the place to the ground, just for spite," Will explained.
"Yeah," Allan confirmed. "He's not happy, unless he's torturing some poor, innocent bastard."
"Where are the orphans now?" Robin asked, kissing the top of Ellen's head before handing her to Thornton.
"Tuck's taken them on an outing, to the horse fair," Will replied, glaring at Allan for swearing.
"And the sisters?"
"The nuns went, too," Allan answered. "All except that blind bat, Sister Beatrice."
When Will shot Allan an even fiercer glare, the tavern keeper defended himself by saying, "Oi! She is blind, almost!"
"She's old," Will scolded.
"We don't have time for this," Robin told his friends. "Come on! Allan! I need you to rescue Sister Beatrice-"
"Oi! Why me?"
"By your own admission, you're good with nuns."
"Not old, blind, daft ones!"
"And Will, you and I need to find Tuck, and hide the children."
"Where, Robin?" Will asked. "Any place that harbors them, risks being burned to the ground, as well."
"Which is why we need a really safe place," Robin told him.
"Like...the cave?" Allan asked.
Robin touched his finger to his nose.
"Robin!" Annora cried again.
"Not a word of this to your husband," Robin warned her, hobbling to his front door faster than most men could run on two good legs.
While Will and Allan mounted their horses, Robin grabbed his bow and quiver, then flung himself onto Apollo's back, digging his heels into his destrier's ribs to urge him to a gallop.
Annora, angry, stomped her foot and pouted, staring after him. "I'll teach you to ignore me, Robin of Locksley," she muttered, under her breath.