Happy again, Robin treated his entire village to an impromptu outdoor Sunday feast, rolling up his sleeves to help his servants set up trestle tables piled high with food upon his lawn.

"You said you wanted to eat outdoors," he said, winking at Marian in answer to her questioning glance.

Marian, he noticed, was quiet throughout the meal, smiling kindly, but with a touch of sadness still lingering in her eyes.

"We need to talk, I suppose," he murmured privately to her, when they'd finished their meal.

Lifting her eyebrows, Marian smiled at him now in true amazement. "You're inviting me to talk? This has to be a first, Locksley."

He answered with a tender, loving smile. "Let me just hand off Ellie to her nurse, and I'll be back."

Perched on his lap during the meal, Ellen had fallen asleep, her small round cheek against his stomach. Finding Nurse Mattie, Robin carried Ellen into her nursery, laying her gently in her cradle for her afternoon nap. Then he returned outdoors to find Marian waiting for him.

"Walk with me?" he asked, holding out his hand.

A warm, delightful shiver ran through his wife, at hearing his invitation. "You remind me of when we were betrothed," she told him, lacing her fingers through his.

"A walk will do you good," he teased her. "Work off that belly you're getting."

"Robin of Locksley! You know very well-" Shaking off her annoyance, she smilingly scolded, "You're exasperating, did you know that?"

They wandered, happy together, through fields of thick green grass, enjoying the mellow sunshine, sweet birdsong, and the fresh smell of the land. Their land.

When they reached an old stone lichen-covered wall, they stopped. Lifting Marian in his arms, Robin set her atop a chest-high pillar, where she sat gazing soberly down at him.

"Well?" she asked, waiting for him to begin. "You said you wanted to talk. Go on, then."

It took him awhile to open up, for he hated showing his feelings of vulnerability, especially to her. But knowing she still hurt, he began by saying, "I'm sorry, my love. I should have known you didn't write that letter."

"You should have trusted me, Robin. That's what hurts! That you'd believe me capable of lying to you, that way."

"I don't believe it, any more. I know you better than that."

In the ensuing pause, Marian wrapped her arms around his neck and began absently playing with the curls at its nape. "Where were you, last night?" she wondered, unable to stop a tear flowing from the loneliness of their long night apart.

Brushing it away with his thumb, he smiled sadly back at her. "You'll never guess. I spent the night in my old camp, tossing and turning on my bunk."

"In Sherwood? Robin, why? I was sure you'd gone to Bonchurch!"

"I wanted to be alone, to think."

The memory of last night came flooding back to him, too painful to think about. Putting it out of his mind, he explained, "I was planning on surprising you and Ellie, having the three of us camp out there, for fun."

"Fun? No thank you! It's getting hard enough to sleep lately, in our comfortable bed. But your thought was sweet."

Their lips met and clung together, while sorrow hovered over them, draining away the joy they usually felt in each other's company.

Gisbourne had once again cast his shadow over them, and it would take time before they could completely dismiss his presence.

Kisses upon kisses were finally interrupted by Much, waving a joint of pork above his head, rushing up to them completely out of breath. "Robin!" he shouted out, gasping for air. "The King's arrived, with Isabella! And they're not at all happy you didn't invite them to your party!"