"Stay within earshot," Isabella ordered her frightened attendants, who trembled at the unexpected presence of Robin, Lord of Locksley, in Her Majesty's bedchamber, not to mention the dark look of danger in his eyes. "But don't listen too closely! Bring help immediately, should I call for it."

"Yes, Your Majesty," her ladies obeyed, dropping curtseys before scurrying from the sumptuous chambers.

"Well, Robin!" Isabella greeted him, her sly smile dripping with sexual allure. "Another secret visit to my bedchamber? You just can't stay away, can you?"

"Save your act, Isabella," Robin ordered. "I want to know, why you poisoned my wife."

Isabella's laughter was like the tinkling of bells. "Poisoned her?" she repeated, provocatively removing hairpins from her thick, glossy hair and shaking it loose. "Now, how could I have done that? I haven't been anywhere near your precious wife, and you know it. I haven't even been near you, though we can quickly change that, can't we? But not too quickly! I'd like to savor you, for once, rather than blink my eyes and find you've finished."

"You used Mistress Fitzhugh to give my wife poison, and you will be made to pay!"

"Is that the story that foolish, love struck chit is selling?" Isabella asked, climbing on top of her bed with a smouldering, beckoning look. "And you believe her? Well, no one else will! She's already proved herself to be a beastly little liar. After all, she claimed you raped her, remember?"

"Your husband will believe me, when I prove you used the same poison on my wife, you tried to give him!"

"John...believe you? Over me?" She laughed again. "Now, Robin, you've forgotten how very persuasive I can be, when it comes to men. I could, of course, remind you. You know you want it. You burn for me."

"You disgust me," he snarled. "Besides, you're rubbish at it."

He didn't like sinking to her immature, disgusting level, but he knew his accusation would anger her, and he wanted to make her suffer. "I told your brother you're a rubbish kisser, and I meant it," he continued. "You're even worse in bed, though you ought to be better, with all the practice you get."

His words struck their desired blow. Isabella sat up in bed, furious at his insult. "Guards!" she shrieked, almost in his ear.

Robin cringed, then shouted, "Bring them! I'll go straight to the king, and tell him everything!"

"He already knows about you and me," Isabella sneered back. "In fact, it excites him, in a strange, perverted sort of way. Not that he shares Sheriff Vaisey's inclinations. It's more a matter of rivalry. If he only knew how unsatisfying you are as a lover, he wouldn't try so hard!" Taking a deep breath, she raised her voice and shrieked again, "Guards!"

"I wasn't talking about my mistake, ever having anything to do with you," Robin bit back. "I was talking about what you've done now. You're finished, Isabella! What do you think King John will do, when he finds out it was you who tried to poison him?"

"He'll never believe you!" Isabella shrieked.

"Care to find out?" Robin asked, greeting the guards with a triumphant smile. "Take me to His Majesty," he told them, confusing them by willingly surrendering to their unsheathed swords.

...

Unfortunately, his interview with the king would have to wait, for King John was in bed with a kitchen wench, and had commanded his sentries, under pain of death, to admit no one into his "royal" presence.

Returning home to Locksley, Robin took the stairs two at a time, to check up on Marian.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, leaning against the doorway of their room.

"Better, now that you're home," she answered, with a bright, welcoming smile.

Sitting up in bed, she held out her arms, and he ran to them, so vastly different was her invitation to the one he'd just received from the poisonous Isabella.

"I brought you a present," he said with a smile, after kicking off his boots and kissing her most tenderly.

"I must really be sick, for you to bring presents!" she teased. "But thank you. I could use something, to help me pass the time this week."

Smiling adoringly, Robin handed her a hand-held looking-glass, encased in silver. It was exquisite, a gift any other woman would be thrilled to receive. Knowing this, Marian tried to hide her disappointment.

"I know you'll be bored, lying in bed," Robin told her, taking her in his arms and lightly laying his hands across her expanding belly. "So, I thought to myself, what would I like to do, if I were bedridden, with nothing to do?"

Marian turned her face to look at him, lifting her brows in mock amusement. "You'd look at yourself, in a mirror?" she asked. "I know you think you're good looking, Robin, but-"

"No," he grinned, tapping her lightly on her nose. "I'd want to spend all my time, looking at you."

"Flatterer," she teased. "But no, you wouldn't. You'd shoot at targets, out the window. The mirror's lovely, by the way. Thank you."

"You're welcome. But I have another idea, to help you pass the time. How about we work at improving our chess game, this week?" he asked, grinning at her.

"Robin!" she warned, remembering how he'd once used chess as a euphemism for something far more exciting. "Matilda said, no more... Besides, we hardly need improvement, at least-"

"Don't worry," he snickered. "I really did mean chess, this time. What else can I do for you, Marian, short of bringing you a needle and thread? There's a reason I never encouraged you in mastering embroidery. You're dangerous, you know, with a needle in your hands."

"You deserved it," she smiled, proudly. " 'Kiss it better,' indeed!"

"I'd like to kiss you better now."

"Matilda said-"

"Kissing can't hurt."

It didn't, though it made them eager for much more.

"I'm sorry, we can't..." Marian told him.

"It's alright, my love. It isn't hard to resist you."

"WHAT?"

"I only mean," he said, snickering at the outraged expression on her face, "all I need to do is think of you, and our baby's safety, and I'll be happy to live like a monk, for as many months as it takes."

"Let's decide on names," she suggested, snuggling back against his chest. "But first, there is something you can bring me, to help the time pass faster. I'd like to help you, Robin, with your ledgers."

"Marian, that's very kind, but-"

"You know how frustrated you get, adding the figures. I could do it for you, much faster. I'd also like to read those heavy books of yours, detailing English law."

"You're amazing. Did you know that?"

"I should have learned to sew better, years ago. It would come in useful now. But since I didn't, I'd like to study."

"Study it is, then," Robin agreed, impressed. "In between taking care of Ellie, planning our manor's meals, and losing to me at chess, of course."

"Beating the pants off you, you mean," she corrected.

"Ah!" he laughed. "Matilda said...!"

"Beating the smirk off your face, then," Marian smiled.

"Good luck with that," Robin grinned, kissing her again.