"Well?" Robin asked, aiming for casualness. "Will you stay for supper, Marian?"
She wanted to stay. An hour or more in his company was better than a lifetime without him.
"I need to get back," her voice told him, while her heart was begging her to stay. "My father will be worried."
He set his jaw and nodded, trying to mask his hurt. But then, he surprised her by boldly demanding, "Give me your hand."
"What?"
"Just...give me your hand."
Gulping, Marian complied, and was taken by surprise when he returned his mother's brooch to her.
"Robin, no. I can't accept this. It's yours."
"Take it, please. Gisbourne will expect you to wear it. Besides, I always meant to give it to you, Marian, one day."
"One 'special day'," she repeated, extremely moved, recalling his words from so long ago.
She longed to ask him what day he'd meant when he'd said that to her. Their wedding day, she wondered? Had he already wanted to marry her, when they were only children? It must have been so! After all, she had wanted to marry him.
But, no. He'd never really wanted to marry her, or he would have done so, as they'd planned, instead of running off to war.
What a fool she was! She'd let him do it again, fool her with those eyes of his, that voice, that silver tongue! She was no better than those foolish girls who hung on his every word, and giggled frightfully whenever he passed by. Girls like Kate, and all the others, who thought Robin of Locksley hung the moon!
When she looked up, her expression had changed, all her warmth, affection, and regard...gone. In their place was a cool detachment, and an imperial manner.
"Marian?" Robin asked. "Did I say something wrong?"
"You haven't said anything," she answered.
No, you haven't. Never. Never once have you told me the truth, if it was...IS indeed the truth. Never once have you told me you loved me. Do you, Robin? Did you ever? And did you ever guess how very much I once loved you?
He was looking at her in that infuriatingly intense way he had. She could feel his gorgeous blue eyes boring into her, trying to see all the way into her soul. But she wouldn't let him.
"I'll keep your brooch safe for you at Knighton," she coldly told him. "Nothing can happen to it there. If you ever want it back, you'll know where to find it."
"If your father will let me anywhere near your house," he smirked, hiding his regret behind his cocky manner.
"My father only wants what's best for me," she snapped. "He cares about me."
"Marian?"
"Goodbye."
Without another word, she swung herself up onto her saddle, steered Vesper around, and headed down the path, leaving Robin utterly confused and depressed.
But he refused to stay depressed for long. There was too much to do, too many people who needed him. Besides, he told himself, he'd win her back, no matter how big the gulf was between them.
He'd felt her warming toward him again, with feelings stronger than friendship. He swore, they were meant to be together, even if he had nothing to give her anymore, but his heart. It was, at least, a true heart, and hers alone. Now, if only he could convince her of that, and her father.
...
In his bedchamber in Nottingham Castle, Sheriff Vaisey was busy pressing his nose up against the bars of one of his bird cages, admiring his latest feathered acquisition.
It was so amusing to stall, letting Gisbourne stew and wait.
At last, the sheriff spoke, breaking through Gisbourne's erotic daydreams featuring the Lady Marian.
"Do you mean to tell me, Gisbourne, that Hood has taken to robbing the poor now?"
"I don't know, my lord. But it doesn't matter, as long as they think he has."
"Oh! Very good! You surprise me, Gisbourne! Just when I thought all your brains were in your backside, you come up with this ingenius little plan! Who gave it to you, hmm? It didn't spring from your own thick head now, did it?"
"Hood said it himself, to try to cover his tracks. I'm only using his words to our advantage."
"Yes! And what a marvelous advantage it will be! Oh, yes! This is good! This is good! We make sure everyone knows, Robin Hood is out to steal the last bite of bread from the peasants' mouths! Their last chicken! Their last egg! Oh, yes! The very clothes off their backs! Speaking of that, Gisbourne, have you heard the rumor that Hood's chest hair grows in the shape of a bird?"
"What, my lord?"
"Yes. I have it on the best authority, that the hair on his chest resembles some bird of prey, an eagle, or falcon, or such, spreading its wings! Oh, yes! I should like to cage that bird for myself!"
Sir Guy of Gisbourne could only sneer in disgust at Sheriff Vaisey, who was practically drooling, conjuring up thoughts of a bare chested "Robin Red Breast."
But Vaisey was too determined to let his lusts control his greed for long.
"Shall we begin Operation Robbing Hood tonight? Hmm, Gisbourne?"
"Operation...what, my lord?"
"Robbing Hood! Oh, yes! Yes! See to it, Gisbourne."
"My lord?"
"Do I have to explain everything to you? Have someone break into some of your poor, pathetic peasants' private dwelling places, and take whatever crumbs they have stored up for the winter, being sure to leave Hood's little calling card behind. One of his greylag goose feathered arrows will do nicely, don't you think so, Gisbourne, hmm?"
"Do you think it will work, my lord?"
"Like a charm, Gisbourne, like a charm. And if it doesn't, let's just say you will pay the price. After all, it was your brilliant little idea, hmm?"
Gisbourne's eyes glowed, thinking about the people of Locksley turning against the filthy outlaw, Hood, and finally giving him, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, the respect he was due.
As for the sheriff, he appeared to be absorbed in his birds, all the while really thinking about the "eagle" said to be spreading its wings across Hood's pretty little chest.