It was surprising how much she could eat, after having been ill the day before.

Sitting up happily in bed, Marian was enjoying a hearty breakfast of ham, eggs, apples, and freshly baked bread. But she stopped in mid-bite when Robin entered their room.

Fresh from his bath, he swaggered in, clad in nothing but a towel draped around his waist.

"I thought I smelled something good," he boasted, sinking his teeth into the apple he'd swiped off Marian's plate.

"Give that back." The terseness in her tone surprised even her, as she found herself inexplicably tense, reacting to the sight of him in his delightful state of undress.

"You won't share?" he teased, impudently taking another bite before plopping down beside her on their bed. "I'll bring you another apple, my love."

Marian tried not to stare, but her eyes wouldn't obey. What was wrong with her, she wondered. It was ridiculous, the way she was feeling, in her condition.

"What's wrong, Marian?" Robin gently asked, noticing her odd behavior. Assuming she was frustrated from having to stay in bed all day, he offered, "If you'd like, I could carry you downstairs, and Mary could arrange some pillows on the-"

"Why don't you put some clothes on?" she huffed, no longer hungry, at least not for what was on her plate.

"Alright," Robin complied, rising from their bed. "I'll get dressed."

Without giving it a thought, he unself-consciously pulled the towel from around his waist, then tossed it carelessly over the back of a chair. A little high-pitched "Oh!" escaped Marian's lips.

"Sorry," Robin grinned, mistakenly thinking his wife's objection was caused by him not folding the towel properly. "Since you are cooped up here, the least I can do is keep the room looking nice. I'll ask Thomas to pick up after me, when I'm gone."

"I don't want Thomas charging in here!" Marian complained. "I don't want anyone!"

"Alright," Robin said calmly again, trying not to ruffle any more of her feathers.

"Much spoiled you," Marian barked at him, "if you can't even pick up after yourself."

"Agreed." The sheepish grin on Robin's face contrasted nicely with his powerful, perfectly toned body beneath it.

"Get dressed!" Marian ordered, more and more exasperated with every peek at him.

Without another word, Robin located his clothing and swiftly put it on, while Marian's unblinking eyes watched his every move.

"Your eggs are getting cold," Robin commented, since she hadn't taken a bite since he'd entered the room. "Want me to bring you some warm ones, with the apple I owe you?"

He looked incredibly sexy to Marian, fastening on his belt. With another huff, she picked up her bread and hurled it at him, hitting him squarely on his cheek.

"Marian?" Robin asked innocently, looking up. "What have I done to anger you?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized, still feeling incredibly tense. "It's not you. It's me. Just go, Robin, please. I promise to be nicer, when you return."

"I'll be in Nottingham," he told her. "Hopefully, it shouldn't take too long. Do you want Ellie?"

"Yes! Bring her, please." With her mind on other matters, Marian could finally relax, and found her appetite restored. "What are you planning to do?" she asked, taking a bite of cold eggs.

"You'll find out soon enough," he answered, smugly.

"Robin! I want to know. What are you up to?"

"Just a bit of truthful testimony," he told her. "With any luck, this could be the day our illustrious queen finally gets her comeuppance."

Marian's jaw dropped open, as her eyes grew wide. "Tell me everything," she begged, pushing aside her tray.

"It will have to wait, I'm afraid," Robin apologized. "I'm already late, it seems."

Rolling her eyes, Marian asked, "What else is new? You're always late, you know, Robin of Locksley."

"Not too late for a kiss goodbye, Lady Locksley?"

The warmth of her kiss surprised him, giving him a clue to her earlier, erratic behavior.

"I'll get Ellie," he breathed, shaking the fog from his brain her kiss had caused.

...

After collecting Much at Bonchurch, making him even later for his appointment with the king, Robin arrived in Nottingham.

"What is going on?" Much sputtered, coming upon a large group of somber faced nobles surrounding the twin thrones of the king and queen.

"Who died?" Robin asked Loughborough, taking in the situation at once, for King John and his wife were decked out in exaggerated mourning garments.

Robin's heart constricted for a moment, fearing it might be Queen Eleanor who had died. But the answer he received didn't make any sense to him.

"Just Fitzhugh's young wife," Loughborough explained.

"Wha-wha-wha...How?" Much, flabbergasted by the news, was just as shocked as Robin.

"Threw herself from the battlements last night. The king wants to question you, Locksley."

Robin's eyes widened, as his mind accepted what he'd been told. Boldly approaching the thrones, he made a cursory bow and demanded to know, "What happened to Mistress Fitzhugh, Your Majesty? I just heard she's...she's dead."

"The poor child!" the king sobbed. Turning instantly angry, he bellowed, "Yes, she's dead, and it's all your fault! Be warned, Locksley, you will pay!"

"His fault?" Much burst out, at Robin's side. "That is...that is not true! Robin didn't do anything!"

Even in his state of shock, Robin could detect the hard gleam of triumph in Isabella's sly, beautiful blue eyes.