"Marian?" Robin asked, watching his lovely wife attempting to comfort their enemy, Isabella of Gisbourne. "What are you doing?"
"I realize she can't stay here," Marian began explaining, only to be interrupted by Robin's emphatic, "Good!"
"Will you let me finish?" Marian demanded, tense from the resistance she was expecting from her husband, as well as her recent unpleasant interview with Isabella. "She can't stay here indefinitely," Marian clarified.
"She can't stay here at all! In fact, why don't we show her the door now, together?"
"Robin, no! We can't send her back to the castle, not after what she told me!"
Robin, folding his arms over his chest, struck a challenging, not-about-to-budge pose. "Alright then," he invited. "Let me decide. What lies did she tell you, Marian?"
Isabella, who'd been watching the argument as silent as a cat stalking its prey, eagerly wetted her lips while staring at Robin. Oh, yes, he was delicious! Right then and there, she wanted to shove him backwards onto the bed, rip the clothes off him with her fingers and teeth, and just lap him up, like cream.
Of course, she had no choice but to resist her desires, for the time being, and bide her time.
"Her lies don't matter," Marian insisted, hotly. "The one truth that poured out of her does, and I can't tell it to you. Believe me, Robin, you don't want to know. All that matters is...we have to keep her safe."
"Her?" Robin laughed unpleasantly, under his breath. "I don't think so."
"We must! Where's your sense of chivalry?"
"She doesn't deserve chivalry! She's no damsel in distress, Marian, but a cold hearted killer, with her vials of poison, and the tricks she carries, tied up in her garters!"
"How do you know what she carries in her garters?" Marian couldn't help asking.
Despite wanting to play the victim, Isabella couldn't hide a self-satisfied smirk. How could she forget that warm, sunny day in the meadow, when she'd helped Robin put out the fire John had ordered set in the Locksley village church? A blister or two from passing heavy sloshing buckets filled with water, and a few smudges of soot on her face and neck, were small prices to pay for what followed! Acting the part she knew Robin wanted, she'd "generously" pressed her purse into his hand, after first retrieving it from her bare naked thigh, where she'd tied it by a garter that held no stocking in place.
He'd seen, of course. She made certain he'd seen. And the wicked smile that lit up his face confirmed her wish that Robin Hood wasn't always as pure, unselfish, and wholesome as the newly fallen snow.
He'd been drowning in grief, not having a clue his wife had survived the wound Isabella's brother Guy had given her, her stupid brother who couldn't do anything right! A slight resemblance to his "dead" wife, a touch of her perfume, the right words and charitable actions, had made Robin easy prey in his emotionally drained, weakened state. But it was the unmistakable invitation of her naked thigh that finally made him hers, for a few frantic, fevered moments in the meadow.
The guilt on his face when he next led her to his camp had been laughable, as well as the confused looks on the faces of his men. Isabella played her part, many parts really, trying to keep him, but he quickly sank back into his grief and disappointment.
But all that ended, when Marian returned. It was as if Robin himself had been reborn, so vibrant, happy, and alive he seemed, and he had no more use...none at all, for Isabella.
"I would appreciate you including me in your discussion," she said now, angry at how he always seemed to ignore her existence, whenever Marian was near.
To her surprise, Robin turned on her in fury. "Don't say a word," he threatened, pointing a finger in her face. "You dared poison my wife, then show your face here, expecting our protection?"
"Robin! Don't frighten her," Marian scolded, baffling her husband and playing right into Isabella's hands. "Don't cast her out! Lock her in a room if you must, before taking her to a place of safety, but don't deny her the protection she needs."
"What is wrong with you, Marian?" Robin demanded. "What did she say, to deceive you?"
"How dare you? There's nothing whatsoever wrong with me, as you put it! I'm only doing what you would do, if you knew the truth!"
Isabella watched, delighted, as Robin smirked and Marian fumed.
"What?" Marian asked, when he smugly laughed under his breath.
"It's your condition," Robin unwisely answered. "It has to be. You'd never fall prey to her lies, if I hadn't first gotten you-"
"How dare you?" she asked again. "It isn't my so-called condition! I only want to help her, the way I wanted to help..."
Robin's eyes narrowed, as the jealous rage he felt toward Guy of Gisbourne was rekindled.