It always felt odd these days, entering Robin's house, when there was another master in his place. So many things were just as they'd always been, such as Thornton's respectful, affectionate greeting, yet so much had changed.

Aside from the obvious difference of Gisbourne's black and yellow hangings replacing the Huntington green and gold, still present in Robin's hunting lodge at Bonchurch, the very atmosphere was vastly different. Everyone, from each Locksley villager to the last of Robin's servants, was on edge, quiet, and fearful. And of course, there was the never-ending presence of Gisbourne's guards, rude, bullying, and ominous.

This used to be such a relaxed, happy place, Marian thought, always with a promissory undercurrent of excitement, as if something wonderful was about to happen.

And wonderful things had always seemed to happen here, with Robin masterminding them, making every day as joyful as a holiday.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Marian apologized to Lambert, who greeted her as Thornton took her cloak. "Where is Sir Guy?"

"Guy hasn't returned from Nottingham yet," Lambert explained, "so you needn't worry about being late. He'll be sorry he wasn't here to greet you. I've never seen him so nervous, as he was ordering the preparations for this dinner. He's completely smitten by you, milady."

Marian looked almost guilty, not being able to return Gisbourne's feelings toward her. "Well, since he's absent, you and I can have a nice, long talk," Marian said, smiling up at Lambert.

Lambert seemed to have been instructed what to do, should he need to serve as host while the sheriff kept Guy away. Offering Marian a chair, he then sat down across from her, while Thornton poured them each a goblet of wine.

"Tell me about your life in Yorkshire," Marian began pleasantly, sipping her wine.

"You mean, of course, Guy's life in Yorkshire," Lambert responded.

"Am I so transparent, or are you just brilliant?"

"Neither, milady. I know Guy well enough to guess, no matter how strong his feelings are toward you, he hasn't told you a thing about his youth or childhood. I cannot tell you, either, in respect to him. Suffice it to say, it was a miserable time, better left unspoken and forgotten."

"I am sorry," Marian said, sincerely. "I didn't mean to pry." Shifting her mood, she continued. "There is something else I'd like to discuss with you."

"Yes?"

Placing her nearly full wine goblet on a side table, Marian looked at Lambert and said, "I have a...a friend, who's interested in helping people who used to be employed in a local iron ore mine. The mine was unsafe, however, and was shut down. I was wondering whether you might know of a way to reopen it, under far safer conditions? Or, better yet, better, faster, safer methods?"

Before Lambert could answer, Guy of Gisbourne strode through the door, into his hall. Despite Marian's brave words to Much, her heart constricted in fear, yet her manner betrayed none of her feelings.

"Marian," Guy breathed, his voice low and possessive. "I trust Lambert has been entertaining you."

"He's been a perfect host," she answered, smiling. "We were enjoying a very nice conversation."

Gisbourne's steely blue eyes darted jealously back and forth between his betrothed and his half-brother. Satisfied there was nothing intimate between the two, he relaxed as much as he ever allowed himself to do, then said, somewhat awkwardly, "I trust you like the wine. Do the flowers on my table please you? I would have ordered blossoms in your favorite color, but I realized I don't know what it is."

"That's kind of you, Guy," Marian said, somewhat touched by his gentlemanly attempt to please her.

Lambert truly is a good influence, she believed, hesitantly warming to the tall, handsome man she was pledged to marry. With Lambert's help, perhaps it really would be possible to lead Guy to choose goodness, defeat the sheriff, and save Nottinghamshire.

"Green," she told him, warmly. "My favorite color is green."

Gisbourne could not hide his sneer. Green! The main color on the arms of the Earl of Huntington! Hood's color!

"Green doesn't suit you," he told her. "I prefer you in that red gown you wore at my party announcing our engagement."

Any tender feelings Marian had been cultivating toward the man died with his blunt rudeness, and she silently vowed that the next gown she bought would be green. "I hope I pass inspection in this," she told him, laughing haughtily.

"I would like to see you wear more color," Gisbourne told her. "Though not green."

Lambert cleared his throat, trying to ease the sudden tension in the room. "When can we expect to eat?" he asked Guy. "I, for one, am hungry."