Marian climbed the stairs at Knighton Hall, relieved to be heading to bed in her own beloved room. It had been a long, trying day.

Guy of Gisbourne had come to her home in the morning, despite having dined with her at Locksley the previous night. He had presented yet another gift she did not want, had made her nervous by saying he would "keep giving" as though she could be bought, and had insulted her with his scornful tone when he told her she needed a husband.

Furthermore, she and her father had argued about the risks she was taking as the Nightwatchman. The argument had grown so heated, she had decided to leave her home rather than give up her mission.

She hated to admit it, but Robin's heroic deeds inspired her to want to do more to help others rather than less. She longed to be part of his gang and help him feed the poor. But when she had spied him just outside Nottingham's walls, and they had briefly spoken inside the town, he had failed to take her hint. He acted concerned for her welfare, but had not even considered offering to let her join his gang. And she would rather die than beg him.

And later, the so called Abbess whose abbey she had wanted to join had turned out to be a fake. Happily, she and her father had reconciled their differences, and so now she was pleased to be heading for bed in her own room. She was sure to sleep well tonight, for the emotional upheavals of the day had wearied her.

Entering her room, she closed her door and kicked off her shoes, then placed them neatly aside. Reaching down to pull her gown over her head, she was stopped by a familiar voice from the shadows.

"Much as I hate stopping you at this promising moment, I know you'll hate me worse if I let you continue."

Marian stood and reared around furiously, only to see Robin leaning against a wall, grinning and chuckling lightly at her.

"It seems I should have let you remove your gown after all, if you're this angry at me anyway," he laughed.

"This is no laughing matter, Robin. You have no earthly right to enter my room."

Lowering his voice so her father couldn't hear, Robin grew serious and explained, "I came to continue our conversation. I'm sorry about earlier. My men and I were on a mission. But I care about your problems, Marian. Have you thought any further about where you'll live?"

She gave him a wilting look. "Late again, Robin. The issue has already been resolved. Don't let yourself be seen as you leave."

He made no move to go. Instead, he sat himself on her bed, looking remarkably comfortable there. Marian raised her eyebrows in righteous indignation.

"Where will you go, then?" he asked, trying to mask his concern that she might travel far away.

"I'm staying here. There's no need for me to go, after all." Not that you were any help, she thought.

Robin's smile betrayed his extreme relief. "Good," he grinned. "Much would miss you if you moved away."

"Much?" she asked. She hadn't meant to invite him to declare he really meant himself...it had just slipped out.

He rose and moved toward her in that predatory provocative way he had when he wanted a kiss. Well, he wouldn't get one! He was easy to resist, considering how angry she was at him.

"Much told me Knighton wouldn't be the same without you," he said, reaching to lift her chin so her lips could meet his. She knocked his hand away.

"Oh, he'd soon forget all about me. After all, I'm not as entertaining as kitchen girls."

She was too upset to notice she had completely baffled him. "Kitchen girls?" he asked, confused. "What kitchen girls?"

"You know very well the one I mean."

"No, I really don't. Does Much have a sweetheart I don't know about?"

"Much?" she cried, then froze, hoping her father had not heard. Satisfied that all remained still, she continued, whispering again. "Trust me, Robin, if Much had a 'sweetheart', we would all know about it. But I find your word choice rather naive, considering."

Robin tilted his head and peered at her, trying to discern what she could mean. "Marian," he said, "what are you talking about?"

She shook her head, angry at herself for having brought it up. "It doesn't matter," she insisted.

Robin stared deeply into her eyes, trying to read her thoughts, but she looked away. "I think it must," he disagreed.

She felt trapped, and decided she might as well finish what she herself had begun. "It's just...why would you miss me, when you've got Annie? Or are you finished with her?"

Robin's face looked even more confused. "Annie?" he asked. "Who's Annie?"

Comprehension set in, at least partially. He remembered Seth's mother was a kitchen girl named Annie. Then he recalled how Marian had asked him if Seth were his, and how he had never answered her question. Had she really thought he was Seth's father, all this time?

He began to laugh, much to Marian's indignation.

"What's so funny?" she asked tartly.

"Oh, Marian, you're not as smart as I've given you credit for!"

"How dare you!"

"I'm not Seth's father."

The room grew silent.

"You're not?' she asked at last, in a small voice.

"No," he answered, still laughing. "How could I be? I've hardly been home long enough, now, have I?"

"I thought...I thought she was someone you brought home with you."

"From Acre?" he asked, still highly amused. "Come on, Marian, she doesn't look like a Saracen."

"I just thought...weren't there any English women in the Holy Land?"

"None like her! A few nuns...and precious few of them! Queen Joan of Sicily, King Richard's sister, visited once in awhile."

"Well," Marian continued, embarrassed by her mistake, but starting to feel relief creep into her heart, "I thought you'd met on your journey home."

Smiling, Robin shook his head "no."

"So all this time," he said, "you thought I was Seth's father?"

"Well, I just assumed..."

"No," he grinned. "We found him in the forest. His father had taken him from Annie, lying to her about planning to place him at Kirklees Abbey, then left him in the woods to be eaten by wild animals, or to starve to death."

"How horrible! Thank God you found him!"

Robin was tempted to tell her who Seth's father really was...who the fiend was who was so despicable he would let his own flesh and blood die such a terrible death. But he resisted, nobly refraining from telling her. Besides, he didn't want to waste this precious time alone with her speaking of Gisbourne.

"So, Marian," he grinned, moving in again, "am I forgiven?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said nervously. She needed for him to leave, before this went any further. She needed to gain control of herself, lest she behave like a fool and fall prey to his charms.

All the same, her heart was soaring. It shouldn't matter, but somehow, it did. It really, really did!

"I've had a long day, Robin," she whispered, more kindly than she had spoken to him for quite awhile. "I really need to get to bed."

His smile widened and his eyes glowed at her in the darkness. She could guess what he was thinking, but he didn't speak it, thankfully.

He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for him. She knew he didn't want to go, at least without first securing a kiss, but she wasn't ready for that. Not now...not ever again. But they could be friends again. The best and truest of friends.

"Goodnight, Robin," she said, her voice sounding fonder than she realized. "Be careful, please."

He was smiling for all the world. After uttering a heartfelt sigh, he moved to her window, put one leg out, then turned back to say, "Goodnight, Marian. I'm glad you're here. I'd miss you, you know, if you were gone."

She smiled back. That was as close a confession of his true feelings for her as she'd heard in a long while. It wasn't much, but it pleased her.

"Well, I'll be here, if you need to find me. Goodnight, Robin."

He gave her one long lingering smile before pulling himself the rest of the way through her window, and then, he was gone.