Shaking with emotion, Marian forced herself to take several deep, steadying breaths before slowly turning away from her window, after slamming her shutters closed.
Her heart nearly stopped beating, when she caught sight of who was standing just inside her door.
"How did you-?" she gasped, angrily.
On the surface, Robin's grin was sheepish, but Marian knew him well enough to spy its underlying smug self-satisfaction. "Novel thing," he answered, pleasantly. "I used the front door."
"That was still fast," she commented, still somewhat in shock from his sudden appearance in her room. "You must have flown up the stairs."
Robin found himself basking in her loveliness. She was clad in a sleeveless white nightdress, gathered under and between her perfect breasts, reminding him of some legendary goddess. But which one? Venus, the captivating Goddess of Love, or Diana, the chaste huntress? Or was she Athena, Goddess of Wisdom? All three, he decided.
Take up your bow, Diana, he was thinking, and come hunt with me in the forest, as we used to before our world fell apart.
Taking a few steps toward her, he was, as usual, charming, witty, and completely self-assured. "You know what they say," he said, looking irresistible. "No sense letting grass grow under your feet."
"Well, you can't have my floorboards under your feet, either. Get out."
"Marian, wait! Whatever I've done to anger you, I'm sorry. At least, tell me what it is, so I can make amends."
"It's too late for amends, Robin. Goodnight."
"It's never too late! Please, Marian! I'm sorry I laughed at you, in the castle. You were wonderful! It's only...your stubbornness matched my own, and I loved it."
"You admit you're stubborn? That's a first."
"I prefer to say, 'determined.' But I'll admit to stubborn, if it'll clear things up between us."
"There's nothing to clear. Now, go. Much and Kate must be worried sick over your absence."
She was trembling, not from cold, but from emotion. But Robin didn't realize that. Gallantly, he picked up her robe and held it for her to slip into.
Frowning, Marian snatched it from him, shoving her arms into its sleeves.
"About Kate," Robin said, hiding the sting he felt from her rejection. "I need your help, Marian. I need you to clear her name with the sheriff and Gisbourne, so she can go home."
Marian lifted her eyebrows in mock surprise. "You don't want her with you?" she asked, haughtily. "That must be the quickest honeymoon on record."
At last, Robin understood the source of Marian's anger. Part of him wanted to laugh, because it was so absurd that Marian would believe what the marriage banns announced. But his laughter was snuffed out by the obvious pain she was trying so hard to hide. Growing tender and gentle, Robin softly asked, "You didn't believe the marriage banns, did you, Wren? They weren't true. It was all a big mistake."
His voice, so warm and tender, was a caress. Marian's throat went dry, and her heart began pounding so fiercely she grew dizzy. "A mistake?" she managed to ask, swallowing.
"You shouldn't believe everything you read, you know. Especially about me."
"So it's not true? You're not going to marry Kate?"
"How could I, when there's someone else completely perfect for me?"
He was gazing at her with a look so sincere and adoring, Marian found it hard to breathe.
"Don't," she told him, sadly. "Not unless you mean it."
Instead of words, he answered by continuing his adoring gaze. A few steps closed the gap between them, and, barely daring to breathe, Robin leaned slowly toward her, his lips reaching for hers.
Closing her eyes, Marian lifted her face, every inch of her thirsting for him. Their lips barely brushed, but they both felt the magic before being forced to quickly break apart. Both of them had heard Sir Edward's voice shouting, "No!"
"Forgive me, sir," Robin said, facing Marian's father, who stood framed in her doorway. "I meant no disrespect to your daughter."
Ignoring him, Lord Knighton turned upon Marian. "Do you make it a habit, young lady," he asked, accusingly, "to entertain young men in your bedchamber?"
Marian, cheeks flaming, maintained her dignity and composure. "You know I do not," she reminded him, curtly.
"Yet this is the second time in one night I have found men lurking in or around your room!"
"I came uninvited, sir," Robin tried to explain. "I needed to thank your daughter for rescuing me from the dungeon."
Edward paled, then gripped the folds of his robe. "You rescued him?" he asked Marian, needing to sit. "You're not hurt, I hope."
"I'm fine," Marian told him, lying about her wound.
Noticing how frail the old man seemed, both Robin and Marian took hold of an arm, and led him to a seat. When Edward recovered from his surprise, he told Robin, "I'm glad you're safe, young man. A word with you, alone. Bid my daughter goodnight."
"Goodnight, Marian," Robin said, with a happy sigh.
Marian smiled her goodnight back at him, her heart racing with joy and hope.
Carefully, Robin guided Sir Edward to the hallway just outside Marian's door, then turned respectfully to listen.
"Robin, I'm overjoyed that you're safe," Edward began. "But all the same, you mustn't put my daughter's life in danger."
"I wouldn't, sir," Robin promised.
"You do, every time you show your face here. The safest thing, the best thing for Marian, is for you to keep away. Is that understood?"
Robin hesitated, but recognized the truth of Sir Edward's words. "It is," he admited, grudgingly.
"Good. Now, goodnight and Godspeed, Robin. Please, try to be safe, and stop taking so many risks."
"I have to take them," Robin insisted, passionately. "If I don't, people will suffer."
"If you do, you'll find a rope around your neck, I fear. At least, don't put one around Marian's. She is everything to me. She is my world."
Robin, sighing again, this time sadly, felt he must agree. "I give you my word, sir," he told the older gentleman. "As much as possible, I swear to you, I will stay away."