"You don't have to stay with me, you know," Marian told Robin softly, lying in his arms on their bed.

Matilda had come and gone, prescribing a week of strict bed rest and absolutely no more horseback riding or "marital activity" until after the baby was born. But her orders didn't stop the couple from enjoying an intimate conversation accompanied by a series of soft, gentle kisses.

"You wound me, Marian," Robin teased her. "I can see right through your scheme to get rid of me."

More kisses proved he was wrong, as she silently thanked him for staying.

They'd definitely had a scare, certain she'd almost lost the baby, and now that all seemed well, they clung together in thankfulness tempered with concern.

"Surely you have things to do," she told him. "I'm a nuisance."

"Yes, you are."

That exchange took them back to the time they'd said those words before, when he'd been an outlaw and she'd been wounded by Gisbourne, lying in pain in the cave. Happy at how far their relationship had grown since then, now that they truly belonged to one another, she stopped insisting he go and urged him to stay with soft, tender, loving kisses.

The last thing she heard before drifting off to sleep was Robin's voice, softly whispering, "I love you, you know, Wren." With a loving sigh, he added, "My wife."

...

With Marian sleeping peacefully and Ellen reassured her Mama was fine, Robin could at last allow his mind to take in the jumbled excuses and apologies Annora Fitzhugh had tried to give him during the crisis. At the time he'd ignored her, finding her the true nuisance when all his attention and concern were focused on his ailing wife. But now, the words she had stammered came rushing to his mind.

"I'm sorry," Annora had said weakly, appearing stricken herself. "I didn't mean to truly hurt her. The queen said the powder would only..."

Isabella! So, it wasn't natural causes that had hurt Marian and nearly killed their baby; it was Isabella's poison! Robin was so enraged, he exploded into action. Leaping onto the back of his fastest horse, he steered him toward Nottingham at a furious gallop, consumed with demanding answers from the queen and her foolish young accomplice.

...

Expecting Robin to suspect her crime sooner or later, Isabella made certain she was heavily guarded and inaccessible to the handsome Earl of Huntington until she felt ready to face him. Preferably she'd be facing him while on her back, under his passionate, pounding thrusts, or perhaps straddling him while he lay helplessly panting under her skillful maneuverings, though she recognized her dream was impossibly futile, at least for now.

She underestimated, however, how clever Robin was at sneaking into the most inaccessible chambers of the castle. No overwhelming number of guards or thickness of walls could keep him out, if he wanted to enter.

His first order of business, however, was to visit Annora Fitzhugh, to make certain he'd understood her correctly.

Annora had taken to her bed again, fussed over by her faithful old nurse.

Ignoring all courtesies, Robin appeared unannounced in the chamber, startling both women.

"Forgive the interruption," he said with a terrible scowl. "I believe you were trying to tell me something, while my wife was ravaged with pain?"

"Leave us," Annora ordered her nurse. Sitting up in bed, hoping she looked pale and fascinating, Annora gulped and asked, "Is she alright?"

"No thanks to you, if I heard you correctly. What did you give my wife?"

The anger in his eyes frightened Annora so badly, she felt compelled to lie to him. "Nothing. Nothing at all," she replied, weakly.

In an instant, Robin was standing over her, demanding the truth. "You said something about the queen, telling you to give my wife some powder. What was it, Annora? What did you do?"

Sobbing as she slid deeper under her bed covers, Annora confessed, "I didn't mean to hurt her! Believe me, Robin! I'm not a bad woman! I only thought it would be funny, to loosen her bowels, and make her have to sit on the privy all day!"

Robin didn't speak as he paced like a caged tiger through her room. He felt so furious, he would have liked to put his hands on her throat and squeeze the life out of her. But he'd never lay a finger to hurt a woman, no matter how vile her crime.

"Funny?" he snarled, when he could speak again. "Funny to give my wife a foreign substance, putting her life and the life of our unborn child at risk? You're wrong, Annora. You are not only a bad woman, you're evil and treacherous to the core."

"I'm not! The queen is, yes! But my only mistake was being led by her. I won't do it any more, Robin. Please, forgive me. I couldn't live, if you hated me!"

Stopping his pacing, Robin stood glaring upon the weak and helpless woman. "You're the real poison," he told her angrily. "You're what's wrong with England."

"What?" she squeaked, blinking back tears.

"You haven't a noble thought in your mind. You blindly follow those who are evil, all because you want to satisfy whatever fleeting desire pops into your head. You tried to take revenge on my wife, who'd never done a thing to hurt you, just because I take no interest in you. Why should I? You're not worth the dirt under the soles of her shoes!" Pointing a finger accusingly, he continued, "You disgust me, with your empty headed selfishness. How dare you even think about poisoning my wife? You should be made to drink the same poison yourself, and suffer the same way you made her suffer."

Tears flowed down Annnora's cheeks as she cringed under his accusatory words. Hope died, as she realized he would never love her.

"I'm not evil," she whimpered softly. "Why can't you love me, as you did when we first met?"

"I never loved you," he snarled. "I used you, to gather information about your husband. Do you really think I'd ever look twice at someone as worthless as you, when I'm married to the love of my life?"

The truth of his words hurt her worse than if he hadn't believed in chivalry, and had used his hands to strike her. Annora sobbed and whimpered in her bed, but Robin was unmoved by her tears.

She disgusted him. He couldn't stay another moment in her presence, especially with Isabella so close, awaiting his fury. Turning on his heel, he strode from the room, leaving Annora alone with her despair.

He didn't love her, she realized at last. He'd never loved her. Life was no longer worth living, and he was right. She deserved to drink the queen's poison. Or better yet, drown herself in Locksley Pond, so that he would find her body, floating lifelessly on top of water, when he stepped from his grand house the following morning. Annora swallowed, then began planning her suicide, tears still flowing, as she mourned her own death.