"I'm not saying anything! I'm not saying anything!"

Robin could only hope that Much would be true to his word, and keep his thoughts to himself. But even while hoping, he knew it was impossible for his best friend and servant to keep quiet.

"You should have told her, Robin!" Much finally exploded.

"Enough, Much!" Robin shouted. "I don't want to hear it!" After a pause, he asked, pouting like a spoiled little boy, "Told whom, what?"

"You know whom!" Much declared pompously, wagging a finger in Robin's face. "Or is it who? I never can remember!"

"And just what do you claim I was supposed to say to Marian?" Robin asked, hoping Much would speak aloud the words he never could bring himself to say.

"The truth," Much proclaimed, puffing out his chest and tugging on Robin's green and gold vest he wore proudly over his servant's clothes.

"I've never lied to her," Robin declared, urgently. "I've made a lot of mistakes, but I've never told her a lie."

"She's going to marry Gisbourne, Robin," Much reminded him, barely believing it himself. "Our Marian...I mean, your Marian, is going to marry that...that..."

"No, she won't! She'll never go through with it."

"She may not want to, but believe me, Master, she will."

Robin was so angry and distraught, he couldn't stand to listen anymore.

"Where are you going?" Much demanded to know.

But Robin wouldn't answer. He needed to get away, somewhere off alone, where he could think and sort out the devastating situation confronting the woman he...confronting Marian. Dashing off into the forest, he tried to put as much distance as possible between himself and his ever faithful friend.

Uttering a frustrated cry, Much picked up his feet and chased after Robin. "I hate this!" he muttered, under his breath.

...

So many magical evenings, just like this one, strolling side-by-side, under the stars!

Recalling them, Marian felt unaccountably sad as she walked beside Sir Guy of Gisbourne on the grounds of her father's property.

How ecstatically happy she had once been, walking hand-in-hand with Robin, planning and dreaming of their future together, as Lord and Lady Locksley.

"With you as Lady Locksley," Gisbourne was saying now, in his deep, breathy voice, "I will have all I need, to achieve everything I've ever wished for."

"And what do you wish for, Sir Guy?"

"Please, Marian, call me Guy. We are, after all, engaged."

"Of course. Tell me your dreams. I feel we hardly know one another."

"I, too, want to know you better. I want you to...to understand me, Marian. There is another side to me. A side I cannot show."

"Because the sheriff would not approve?"

"Because it stops me from achieving my aims."

"And are your aims so important, that you deny your true self?"

"Power and position are all that matter. Without them, a man is nothing! A creature to be trampled and spat upon!"

"But what about decency, kindness, love?"

"I have never known them."

Marian stopped walking to study the man in black towering over her. Much had been right when he'd mentioned his height, his build, his manly good looks, and his magnetism. Gisbourne possessed them all, in strong doses. If she could not escape the marriage, he would one day be her husband. She thought, for a brief moment, exactly what that would mean, in the marriage bed. A small knot of fear formed in her belly, making her tremble.

She was still a maid, though a few months past her twenty-second birthday, yet she'd lived in the country all her life, and was familiar with the way animals mated. Gisbourne's eyes were boring into hers, burning with fire, and his thin lips were trembling, longing to crush her mouth and claim at least that prize tonight. But Marian did not want to give it.

Kissing Robin had been so sweet, so natural! The very first time their lips had met, at ridiculously young ages, sitting side-by-side on their log bridge, Marian had felt transported. Her soul seemed to pour into him, and his into her, and it was as close to Heaven as anything she could ever imagine.

So many hundreds, no, thousands of kisses later, every one of them special and unique, yet not a one had lost that savor of the very first time. It was magical kissing Robin! And as they matured, their bodies responded in wonderful, stimulating, unimaginable ways, causing Marian to long for the marriage bed, rather than fear it.

Shaking herself from her reverie, Marian shivered under Gisbourne's intense scrutiny.

"You've never known love?" she asked, her voice sounding strange and small in her ears. "But surely, your family-"

"I have no family," Gisbourne told her.

"I am so sorry."

She truly meant it. No wonder he was so cruel and hateful! A person who'd never experienced love was like an abused dog, hurt and frightened so badly it lashed out and bit any hand that tried to show it kindness. Until, of course, trust could be gained, and then, that dog could show its true nature as the kind, loyal, loving creature God had created it to be.

"Well, we will build our own family," Marian told him, wanting to help him the way she'd helped numerous stray dogs.

His eyes held hers, yet she didn't see Gisbourne. She was picturing Robin, kind and brave and generous and true, noble hearted and truly heroic. Robin had grown up showered with love, even if he'd lost his mother at six, and his father, never very demonstrative in his affections, at ten. Yet, because of Robin's handsome face, winning ways, and wonderful nature, he'd received love from many people, from Queen Eleanor and her son King Richard, to the lowest, poorest subject in the shire. Girls and women wanted to belong to him, boys and men wanted to be him, or at least, bask in his company. Yet no one wanted to be near Gisbourne. Only Sheriff Vaisey, who was sick and twisted, and evil beyond comprehension, sought him out.

She would change him! If she had to marry him, she would gain his trust, and teach him how to love others, and be loved in return. He would become a good, decent man, a man like Robin, and the trials facing Locksley and its people would be healed.

Feeling Gisbourne's breath on her cheek, Marian gasped and pulled away, not meaning to, but being unable to stop herself. He had tried to kiss her, and she just couldn't do it. Not yet. She couldn't banish the images of him slapping her father across his cheek, or the pleasure and triumph on his face, when he thrust his sword into wounded Joe Lacey.

Handsome, yes, but deadly. Cruel. Or was it an act, as he claimed, a way to feel brave and not hurt from the pain he'd suffered in his own life?

Robin, you were so easy to love, and I loved you so much! I was sure you loved me, too, but I was wrong.

"It's late, Guy," Marian said quietly, thrilling him by using his Christian name without its title. "I need to get back to my father."

"Of course."

How could he sound angry, at such a simple request? He did, but Marian felt it must only be habit. All that would change, in time.

Then why did she feel so much like crying?