Lady Nottingham's Secret: Book Two

by Lady to the Sheriff

This is the continuation of Lady Nottingham's Secret. It turned into a bit of a novel but it's almost done. Chapter 1 here is actually 56. There's new twists & excitement coming. Will the Sheriff and his lovely lady survive the ultimate test?

26. Chapter 81

The weather was overcast with a strong wind blowing when Luke arrived to the brothel just after mid morning on Tuesday. He dismounted then tethered his horse to a birch tree which was positioned on the perimeter of the front of the property. The horse was pulling a carriage for the ladies to be seated inside. Satisfied it was secure, he pulled up the collar of his cloak while he walked the cobblestone path approaching the door.

He was rather stunned when he noted the appearance of the Madam. It was different than what he expected. She answered the door and beckoned him inside after he introduced himself, stating that the Mistress whom the Sheriff also summoned would be joining them shortly. She smiled and her amber eyes glistened. The woman had shiny, flaming red hair which was arranged in a chignon. She was holding a chiffon wrap in a deep brown with soft orange trim — which accented her chocolate brown coloured velvet gown and cape; and started to deftly place it over her hair. She didn't look like the proprietor of a house of ill repute. Instead, to Luke, he thought she appeared quite regal.

He nodded and stepped inside.

"We must make haste, Madam. Your appointment with His Lordship is just a little over an hour.from now." Luke announced.

"Yes. I'm aware, Sir. We are both ready to depart. Mistress Floria needed to grab her bag. She shall only be a moment." Madam Birghiva stated.

"Aye, Madam." Luke nodded.

"Ooh! Aren't you a handsome devil?" a young red haired maiden exclaimed coyly as she appeared suddenly, coming from the direction of the dining room. She noticed the tall, dark haired, green blue eyed stranger standing near the main door on her way to the stairs.

"Yes. Right." Luke answered uncomfortably as he shifted and looked downcast.

"It's a bit early for me, but, I'm sure I can make time for you, honey." she said while fluttering her lashes over her green eyes.

"Gelldred! For pity's sake! Mind your manners. He is not here to do business." Madam Birghiva admonished.

"Well, isn't that too bad? Why is it the attractive ones tend to stay away from us?"

"Perhaps, because they have more important things to do." Luke said.

"How dare — "

"Gelldred! This is Officer Luke of the Sheriff's Black Knights. He is here on official business." the Madam stated with a scornful quirk of her brow.

"Interesting." she said with another appraising gaze at Luke. Then she sighed and turned toward the Madam. "And, why are you looking so fancy, Madam? Do you have a date with the Sheriff, or something?" Gelldred asked boldly.

"The Sheriff is betrothed, in case you haven't heard." Luke reminded her.

"Sure. As if that would've stopped him in the past." she remarked while rolling her eyes.

"Look, Missy, you will mind your tongue! I've had enough of that around here. I mean, look where that got Celest — " she stopped herself then quickly changed topics. "You should ready yourself. Lord Rothwell is expected shortly to see you." Madam Birghiva reminded her.

"Right. Not sure why he bothers anymore when Celestria was always his first choice. Where is she, by the way?" a beat. "Surely you must know since you inferred it a moment ago, telling me to heed her… what? Disappearance? Or, is there more?" Gelldred pressed.

Luke raised his eyebrow, then shifted in discomfiture, looking downcast.

"I meant that impertinent behaviour can oft have consequences. I've seen it too many times before." Madam Birghiva warned her.

"So, we're just going to blame her straightway and not find out if she needs help?" Gelldred challenged.

"If she needs us she will send word to us. That is enough, Gelldred. Time and place, dear girl." the Madam admonished using softer volume.

"Just one more thing." the red haired consort said.

Madam Birghiva sighed and folded her arms.

Mistress Gelldred turned toward Luke. "Would you know anything about that? We've a dark haired maiden missing. Did you see her wandering about on your way here? Funny how she just suddenly vanished." the Mistress asked, pointedly.

"I know nothing of whom you speak of; and, incidentally, even if I did, I couldn't provide details. Not without a word with my employer." Luke said.

Gelldred turned toward the Madam. "Oh. Did her mother take a turn for the worse, or something?"

"Something like that." Madam Birghiva said with a sigh. "Go. You must be prepared for Lord Rothwell when he arrives. I will not repeat this a third time."

"Very well." she nodded then turned toward Luke. "Should you find yourself lonely, and with time to spare in the future, do come by. I'm Gelldred. Come anytime, handsome. I shall not disappoint." she winked. She boldly reached out and caressed his cheek, placing her thumb on the corner of his moustache.

Luke sighed softly, but stood firm, maintaining a serious gaze into the consort's eyes.

She was undeterred.

"Bet you're a real heartbreaker, aren't you? Cute moustache, by the way." she giggled, then turned and quickly ascended the stairs.

"My apologies, Officer. The gals aren't used to such distinguished gentlemen stopping by. You understand?"

"Indeed." Luke nodded.

Madam Birghiva sighed.

"I'm not sure what is taking her so — " the Madam was interrupted.

"I, uhh… think she is here now, Madam." Luke said softly as his eyes followed directly toward the top of the stairs.

She was slowly descending the stairs wearing the finest of clothing. He couldn't really see the gown in full detail, but, she wore a brushed velvet cape, silver in colour, that fastened with pale pink ribbons. A drawstring bag, even gloves to match completed her look. Her golden blond hair was pulled up, with a few stray tendrils framing her face.

The maiden was soon standing before him.

Luke looked into her blue eyes briefly, then quickly scanned the attire of both women. He turned to Madam Birghiva to address her.

"Madam, with respect, you're not invited to a Nobles' Ball. It's not a fete, either. It would be best if you both not draw attention to yourselves, especially inside the Sheriff's castle." Luke advised.

"Yes, understood. However, the Sheriff specifically requested we dress our best for this meeting." Madam Birghiva explained.

"You… must be mistaken, Madam."

"No. Not mistaken." the Madam replied confidently.

"You must be jesting, honestly? This is right peculiar, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke said with a shake of his head.

"We have a scroll from him to prove it, Sir." Mistress Floria said.

"Very well. Show it to me, then." Luke directed.

Floria opened her drawstring bag and produced the scroll. Luke took it from her, unfurled it and scanned it quickly. He soon found the notation of it in the Sheriff's own handwriting:

"… Choose a fine gown. Perhaps a cape, also? Anything to showcase your work is preferable."

"Since you are instructed to dress in your best finery, I expect the Madam to dress in similar fashion."

Luke shook his head in disbelief. For some reason he recalled how Duke Farnsworth and the rest of the men acted the day they arrived to the castle after their lengthy mission. They reacted with disbelief about the Sheriff's instructions to have Luke take the infant to Nettlestone. He now understood their reactions that day, as he was experiencing the same. He couldn't imagine what this was about, but, there it was, the written instructions on the scroll.

"Right." Luke sighed and passed the scroll back to the blue eyed maiden. "We best be on our way then." he said as walked over and held the door for them.

Soon they were outside the door and Luke led them toward where the horse and carriage were waiting.

"Right this way, ladies. And, watch your steps. There's some wet leaves on the cobblestones which you may find difficult to maintain footing." Luke warned as he extended his arms to both ladies to assist them. They gratefully obliged and he was flanked on either side by the beautifully dressed courtesan and her Madam. "The Sheriff sent a fine carriage with comfortable seating for the journey to his castle." he smiled.

"We're most grateful." Madam Birghiva said as they walked the cobblestone path.

He carefully assisted both of them inside of the carriage.

"I shall get you there safely, and I will personally escort both of you into the meeting chamber where your meeting is taking place." Luke assured them.

"Thank you, kind Sir." Floria smiled.

He smiled and bowed his head in acknowledgment then went to the horse to unfasten the tether from the tree.

Sister Isemay was placing her palm gently over the dark haired maiden's forehead, checking for the presence of fever. The maiden's skin felt cool to the touch.

"Celest? Wake up, child. I need to know you hear me." Sister Isemay said while seating herself on the chair beside the bed.

"Sister… Isemay… am I right?" Celestria asked as she slowly opened her eyes. She could finally see the features of the Nun's face. A pleasant looking middle aged woman smiled at her.

"Indeed. That is correct, Miss. A good sign from Heaven, indeed, that you recall such detail. Especially, given the state you were in." the Nun said with a warm smile.

"That is… surely good to know, Sister. I am still very tired, however." she stated, attempting to conceal a yawn.

"No doubt, Miss. You were quite weakened. Tell you what, I shall let you return to sleep after ye have taken a bit of nourishment." Sister Isemay stated firmly.

"I am… not able for that, Sister. I'm too tired to chew." she murmured.

"Good! You won't need to do much chewing at all. You shall be fed some hot porridge, with dates, fruit, and soft cheese." the Nun informed her with a grin.

"Very well. Just a few bites, Sister." Celestria relented.

A few minutes later the Nun was feeding the porridge to the maiden as the girl was too weak to hold onto the bowl just now.

"Celest, do you recall how you arrived here? Were you purposefully headed here and collapsed on the path outside the church doors?" the Nun pressed.

"I honestly have no idea how I arrived at the church. You see… everything went black… soon after he admitted he poisoned me. It was like awakening from a very deep sleep… in a foreign place, yet still being… too tired to care." Celestria whispered, her lashes fluttering from fatigue while she took a mouthful of the comforting cereal.

"I see." Sister Isemay said. She held a cup of hot sweet tea to the maiden's lips. "Is there anyone you wish for Father Tuttle to notify? A husband? Parents or siblings, perhaps?" the Nun pressed.

"No, there is no need. My family lives a long way from here, and… I am… not wed, nor promised to anyone." she stammered.

Celestria had planned to conceal her occupation from the Nun, and the Priest, however, she was much too fatigued and weakened to keep up a ruse. She had no energy for that at the moment.

"Then… what are you doing so far from home, Miss? A young lady should never be… unaccompanied… wait a minute! You're — "

"So much for your hospitality. I'm sure it's rapidly waning." Celestria sighed.

"It is not for me to judge." Sister Isemay said quietly while looking down at her lap.

"And yet, you are." Celestria challenged.

"Right." the Nun sighed as she fed the maiden some chopped pears. "Look, Miss. The only thing Father Tuttle and myself would like to know is: do you require sanctuary?" Sister Isemay asked directly.

"I do… not know. Sister. I am too… tired to concentrate on your words just now. I implore you… let me sleep." she whispered.

"A little more hot tea and cheese first, child. Then you may rest."

"If you promise… to let me sleep peaceful — "

"You are not dying on my watch, Celest." Sister Isemay stated firmly.

"Wasn't referring to dying, Sister. I meant an actual… peaceful sleep where I wouldn't be pestered to speak, or… stuff food in my mouth, for a good long while." she said.

"Yes. I suppose a woman such as yourself would prefer to maintain her… figure." the Nun remarked as she fed a bite of cheese to the consort. She next held the cup to the maiden's lips.

"Indeed." Celestria said as she took a sip of the hot sweetened tea.

"I shall let you sleep for a few hours, Miss. You shall next be awakened to take some broth."

"I… need sleep." she declared in a whisper, closing her eyes.

"Very well." the Nun said softly.

The Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon were seated at the table in the Council Quarters, waiting for the arrival of Meridwyn and Isabelle ahead of the ladies from the brothel.

"You're glowing, my angel." the Sheriff smiled.

"Because of you, sugar." Rhiannon said.

"I don't know about that — "

"I needed your touch. I needed to feel your… love for me." Rhiannon said then looked downcast.

He reached over and tilted her chin up to force her to look at him.

"It never left, my lady. There is always love for you. Never doubt that." he said softly.

"Yes. I'm being silly. Forgive me." Rhiannon sighed, shrugging it off.

Robert and Isabelle were the first to arrive. The Sheriff went to the doorway to speak to Robert as Isabelle moved toward Rhiannon.

Rhiannon stood from the table to greet her sister in law.

"Dearest, do you know what this is about? Am I in trouble, or something?" Isabelle genuinely asked.

"No, Sister. Of course not. I would like to tell you, but, I'm rather looking forward to seeing the expressions on yours and Meridwyn's faces when you find out." Rhiannon teased.

"Oh. I see. Is this about the wedding, then? Or… let me guess — you're having twins?" Isabelle asked, matter of factly.

"No, and… no! Twins? Nobody knows ahead of time if they're having twins. Wouldn't that be helpful if people did know? Don't jinx me with two infants, Isabelle, for heaven's sake!" Rhiannon exclaimed in hushed tones.

"Oh, come now, Sister. We all know your betrothed's counsel is a witch. She can see things. I just figured that perhaps she saw something in her crystal ball, or something. No need to be alarmed." Isabelle whispered.

"Oh. Right. That is true. I didn't think of that." Rhiannon sighed.

"So this has nothing to do with your upcoming nuptials, nor the child coming, nor the one — " Isabelle stopped herself. She nearly added "the one in Nettlestone." Her sweet nephew. The son Rhiannon had no memory of giving birth to — oddly.

"The one… what, exactly?" Rhiannon pressed.

"It is nothing, dearest." Isabelle said.

"No, Isabelle. What was it you started to say?"

"Right. The, uhh… one… way I can help you? Did your betrothed speak to you about that?" Isabelle was pleased to have her wits about her to think of an alternative.

"Yes, he did. I would be pleased to have your assistance in the matter when the time comes to deliver this child." Rhiannon smiled.

"I'm glad to help, Sister." Isabelle said.

Over at the doorway the Sheriff was speaking to Robert.

"I don't expect this meeting to be too long." Nottingham said.

"That's fine. I need to return to the armoury, anyway. I used my break time to escort her here. Mainly, so I could ask you what this is about?" Robert asked.

"I need her opinion. The meeting involves two other ladies joining us from the Village. One has talent to offer. I need the opinions of my lady, your wife, and Lady Gisborne." he hinted.

"Interesting. So, sort of like a group interview, then?" Robert asked.

"Yes."

"But, why would you need Isabelle's opinion? I can understand having Rhiannon, and Lady Gisborne present, but — "

"Her opinion will matter, too. It shall all make sense sometime soon." Nottingham hinted.

"Alright." Robert nodded, but, he had no idea what the Sheriff was referring to. "I'll leave you to it, then. I best get back. Stephanus should take his reprieve now."

Nottingham nodded and Robert went on his way.

Within a few minutes, Guy and Meridwyn entered the meeting chamber.

"Ah, good. There you are! Come, Lady Meridwyn. Take a seat over there with Ladies Rhiannon and Isabelle." Nottingham instructed, gesturing toward the large table.

"Alright?" Meridwyn shrugged as she looked at him curiously while passing him to join her friends.

Nottingham sighed.

"What's this about, Cousin? Your wedding, or something?" Guy asked.

"No. Do you have anything on your agenda right now?" he asked.

"Not at this very moment. I shall be dropping by the dungeon soon to ask Joseph how the stumpy bloke is faring, however. The Scribe is meeting me soon. He shall, of course, be taking notes." Guy said.

"Good. However, the Scribe can wait. You might as well be present for this, too. We shall be meeting with Madam Birghiva and Mistress Floria from the brothel, Cous — "

"What?" Guy whispered, urgently. "You cannot be serious, George. We've got our ladies present for this, and your future sister in law — "

"It is fine, Gis. You worry too much! There is nothing to be alarmed about. Trust me, this shall all make perfect sense. You shall see." Nottingham said with a smile.

"If you say so. Alright. You have my curiosity piqued now. Perhaps I should have brought along some snacks for the show?" Guy quipped then walked past him toward the ladies who were casually seated with their chairs arranged in a small circle near the table.

The Sheriff shook his head, closed the door of the chamber then walked in their direction. He stood facing the four of them, then cleared his throat to call their attention.

"Your attention, please. Very soon we are having an important meeting with a potential new staff member." Nottingham announced.

"Alright. What does that have to do with us, then?" Meridwyn asked as she gestured to the ladies and herself.

"Your opinions matter. You shall see why." he said.

"Huh. Interesting. Suddenly the opinions of three ladies matter. Ha ha! Sure… " Meridwyn laughed. She looked over to Rhiannon. "Is he feeling well, honey? My goodness, he's acting rather strangely."

"He's in fine form, Meridwyn. Trust me on that." Rhiannon winked.

"Good for you, Rhi!" Meridwyn said softly as she nudged her friend, grinning.

"Ladies. Ladies!" Nottingham huffed.

"You asked for this, George." Rhiannon shrugged.

"Do you know what this is about, Rhiannon?" Meridwyn asked with her eyes widened.

"Oh, she knows, alright. Says she cannot wait to see the expressions on our faces when we find out." Isabelle remarked with a shake of her head.

"Then it seems she is the only one privy to the true nature of the meeting, because I surely have no clue." Guy shrugged.

"Yes. There is only one other who knows about this, besides my lady." Nottingham said.

"Oh. The one whom you may be employing, then?" Meridwyn asked.

"Actually, no. That person is completely unaware. The one I speak of works in this castle." he said.

"Are you going to tell us then, Milord?" Isabelle asked.

"For God's sake, Isabelle! Why must you insist on being so formal with him?" Meridwyn shook her head and sighed.

"Leave her be, Meridwyn. Give Isabelle time." Rhiannon said softly.

"Indeed."Isabelle agreed then turned to Meridwyn. "Talk to me about that next time — after he has you strung up at the gallows waiting for the step stool to be kicked away." Isabelle whispered with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Noted." Meridwyn nodded.

The Sheriff regarded them impatiently. He couldn't hear their exchange, but he folded his arms and sighed.

"As I said, Milord, will you tell us who else in this castle knows the true purpose of this meeting?" Isabelle repeated.

"No. Not until the potential new staff arrives with their current employer." a beat. "It's only fair. As I said, this person has no idea at all why they were summoned here. Neither of them do." he explained.

"Very well." Isabelle said.

Meridwyn nodded with her eyebrow quirked.

"Are these people coming soon, then? I was hoping to pop by Madam Oberon's chambers to check on my gown." Isabelle explained.

"Yes. They shall be arriving momentarily, I'm sure." he said.

"You are both welcome to join me, of course." Isabelle said to Rhiannon and Meridwyn.

"I shall like that." Meridwyn said.

"I'm sure that will be perfect." Rhiannon smiled, then gave a knowing grin to her betrothed.

He smiled back to her then the sentry announced the arrival of Officer Luke, and the two ladies from the Village.

Within moments Luke escorted Madam Birghiva and Mistress Floria inside the Council Quarters. Luke was a little stunned when he observed who was present. He was wishing he could stay to find out what this meeting was all about.

The Madam and Mistress Floria were surprised, as well. They looked at each other with questioning glances before turning their attention towards the Sheriff.

"I trust the journey was comfortable?" the Sheriff asked the ladies.

"Indeed, Milord." Madam Birghiva said.

"Oh, yes, Milord. Officer Luke was most kind and helpful!" Floria exclaimed a little too excitedly. She looked briefly to Luke, blushed, then fidgeted and looked downcast.

Luke smiled, then caught the surprised expression on the Sheriff's face, and looked away.

Nottingham regarded them both curiously. What was this he was witnessing? Did Luke and the young consort fancy each other? They were acting as though they were smitten with one another. How could this be? They just met. Then he recalled that's how it started with he and Lady Rhiannon. With only one glance. He sighed. He couldn't have Luke distracted by the girl. This is a problem.

"Oh my God, ladies! Their gowns, and capes! Aren't they divine?" Meridwyn whispered to Rhiannon and Isabelle.

"Indeed. They're quite… something, aren't they? Interesting." Rhiannon commented, keeping her voice lowered. She was quite surprised by what she saw.

"Do you think… they're Madam Oberon's creations? They must be. Look how finely crafted they are!" Isabelle exclaimed in a whisper.

"I think you shall be surprised." Rhiannon murmured.

Ladies Meridwyn and Isabelle looked at her oddly.

"Thank you, Luke. You wait outside the door and I'll inform you when it's time to escort the ladies home." Nottingham said.

"As you wish, Milord Sheriff." Luke said with a nod then took his leave of them.

"Oh, and, Luke?"

Luke stopped in his tracks and turned to face his master.

"Yes, Milord Sheriff."

"Advise the Scribe that Gisborne will be participating in this meeting. He is to await the Lieutenant out in the corridor." Nottingham directed.

"Very well, Milord." Luke nodded in obeisance, then turned and left the room.

The Sheriff gestured for the women to walk closer toward him. The Gisbornes, and Rhiannon and Isabelle adjusted their seats with the backs against the large table, facing Nottingham and the two guests to the castle.

"First, the introduction." Nottingham began as he turned toward the ladies to the right of him. "Ladies, I'd like you meet my bride to be, Lady Rhiannon Wordsworth." he gestured toward her.

Rhiannon nodded.

Madam Birghiva attempted to wink at her unobtrusively, but, it didn't go unnoticed by the lot of them who were facing the Sheriff and the two women.

Meridwyn looked to her right at Rhiannon, over Isabelle's shoulder, and shot Rhiannon a curious glance with her eyebrow quirked. Rhiannon didn't notice as she was smiling at the Madam. Meridwyn sighed. Did Rhiannon know the older woman?

"To her left is Lady Isabelle Wordsworth. Her husband is employed here. To her left is my sister in law, Lady Meridwyn Gisborne; and you know my Lieutenant, Sir Guy of Gisborne." Nottingham said.

"Indeed." Guy nodded, though unable to completely conceal the bewilderment in his expression.

"Right. And… you are?" Meridwyn addressed the women.

The women looked to the Sheriff.

"This is Madam Birghiva to my right. Beside her is Mistress Floria." he gestured to them as he addressed Meridwyn and Isabelle.

"Madam, you say?" Meridwyn said to the Sheriff. Then she addressed Madam Birghiva. "I only know of one lady who calls herself "Madam"… Are you from France, too?"

"No. I am not. I've been running a business for a long time in this Village, but, I'm rather elusive. I am kept busy, and prefer to stay low." Madam Birghiva said flatly.

"Ah. You're one of those Madams, then. Interesting." Isabelle said. Then she looked to the Sheriff. "Forgive me, Milord, but, what manner of business would a proprietor of a… den of iniquity have to do with any of us?" Isabelle asked.

Meridwyn's eyebrow shot north as she looked again toward Rhiannon. A moment ago she was acting like she knew the Madam. How could they possibly know each other?

"Do you notice anything about these ladies, Isabelle?" Nottingham asked directly.

"Yes, one thing in particular. They must be doing rather well for themselves because they're wearing Madam Oberon's creations. I didn't realize that variety of work paid so well. Pity…" Isabelle said. "Of course, I'm hoping that's her daughter with her, and not a — "

"Courtesan? Or, do you prefer consort? Or, how about whor— " Mistress Floria was interrupted.

"Ladies! Lets not start off on the wrong foot." Nottingham firmly stated.

"Forgive me for being blunt, Brother in law, but… can we just get on with it? What is the purpose of all of this?" Meridwyn asked.

"I'd… uhm… kind of like to know, as well." Floria added.

"As would I." Madam Birghiva added softly.

The Gisbornes and both Ladies Wordsworth showed surprise that it appeared neither of the women were informed of the purpose of the meeting. Each of them assumed that at the very least, the Madam might know as much as they did. They exchanged curious glances with each other then turned their attention back to the Sheriff.

The Sheriff looked to Floria and addressed her.

"Tell these ladies where you obtained your gown, Missy; and I presume the cape, as well?"

"Aye, Milord." Floria nodded. "I crafted everything that Madam Birghiva and I are wearing." she explained to the ladies. She frowned, then turned her attention back to the Sheriff. "Athough, I don't know why that matters?"

"You… what?" Meridwyn asked slowly as her jaw began to gape.

"Wait… everything, you say?" Isabelle added.

"Aye. The gowns, capes, gloves, my drawstring bag… "

"You're jesting, right?" Lady Rhiannon asked.

"She is not, Lady Rhiannon. Floria spends all of her free time either purchasing items needed for sewing, or she's busy making clothes. She's perpetually sketching, cutting, pinning, and sewing." Madam Birghiva said.

"Impossible. How old are you?" Meridwyn bluntly asked the young mistress.

"I am fifteen." Floria replied. She looked downcast. She was wondering if she was brought here to be humiliated. She could feel her cheeks flushing. What was the purpose of this?

"How long have you been doing this, just out of curiosity?" Isabelle asked.

"Six years." Floria answered. She shifted nervously and cast a concerned glance to the Madam.

"What? Impossible!" Meridwyn exclaimed.

"Not impossible, Meridwyn. Not really. Don't you remember that Madam Oberon told us she made her first gown at seven? I believe it was the day you first introduced me to her, when I commissioned her to craft my wedding gown." Rhiannon reminded her.

"Right. I'd forgotten that point." Meridwyn admitted.

"I think we agree the pieces are finely crafted. So, are you going to tell us what this meeting is about, Milord?" Isabelle asked.

"If you could tell us now, that would be grand." Meridwyn sighed.

"No."

There was a collective sigh and exclamations of disbelief from everyone assembled.

"Ladies, all I needed was your opinions of the attire worn by Mistress Floria, and Madam Birghiva, as it turns out. There's another part to this meeting for Floria, and until she completes it, you shall have to wait to find out." Nottingham said evasively.

"Right. I get that you want to keep them in the dark, but, I wish I knew what exactly is happening." Gisborne said to his cousin while side eyeing the ladies on his right.

"Wait… what? What do you mean about "another part" to this meeting?" she paused briefly then sighed. "I'm being put in your dungeon, aren't I?… I knew it!" Floria asked anxiously.

"No, Missy. There's someone I want you to meet. You shall see." Nottingham smiled.

"Really? Why?" Floria asked.

"You will see very soon. All is well, Missy." Nottingham reassured.

"It will be alright, Floria." Rhiannon added softly.

Rhiannon's sisters in law, and Sir Guy looked at her strangely. And then, Guy shot a suspicious glance at his cousin. Why did Lady Rhiannon appear to be in the know, yet, he was not?

"You lot remain here. We won't be very long." Nottingham said.

They were in disbelief, but they nodded, notwithstanding.

"Where are you taking me?" Floria asked, trepidatiously.

"We won't be too far. Officer Luke shall accompany us to the chamber. Alright?" the Sheriff diverged from his original plan, but, he could see the girl was anxious. She seemed to like Luke. It was likely the only way to get her to Lady Arianna's chambers without Floria reacting by running for the door and screaming. He sighed.

"Very well. That would be fine, Milord." Floria said, purposely concealing her excitement at the prospect of being near to the kind officer, again.

Nottingham moved toward the door and gestured to it for Floria. She reluctantly followed.

Luke was waiting just outside the meeting chambers. Fortunately, Floria was several paces behind the Sheriff.

"Offer your arm to her, lad. I want you to do it. I'm taking her to see Madam Oberon." he instructed in hushed tones.

"As you wish, Milord." Luke whispered.

Floria finally appeared outside the Council Quarters. She smiled with ease when she saw Luke.

"Come, Miss. I am to see you and His Lordship to the door of the chamber." Luke said softly.

Floria took his arm, and the Sheriff led them down the large hall, toward the staircase.

"Do you still think our attire is inappropriate, Sir?" Floria asked in a whisper to Luke.

"Since he wanted it… " Luke nodded ahead of him to the Sheriff, speaking in hushed tones. "… it is of no matter what my opinion is. Normally it would be inappropriate, though." he said.

"They're not revealing — "

"No. However, they're finely made. You both stand out because you're turning heads. The problem is when other staff here start asking where you're from." he explained.

"I see." Floria said.

"If it means anything, I think you look as well as any lady I've seen in this castle." Luke smiled briefly.

"Thank you, Sir." Floria murmured.

The Sheriff led them up the staircase. A short time after that they arrived to Madam Oberon's quarters.

Madam Oberon answered the door within seconds. She was stunned when she took in her first cursory glance of the Mademoiselle's attire. She looked to the young lady and smiled. Then, she looked toward the Sheriff.

"Good afternoon, mon Seigneur Sheriff." she said. She looked toward the young lady before her.

"And you are Mademoiselle Floria, I presume?" Madam Oberon asked.

"Yes. And, who are you?" Floria asked.

"Oui. Je suis Arianna Oberon of France. Won't you come in?"

"Excuse me?" Floria's jaw dropped.

"Mademoiselle?"

"The Madam Oberon? The seamstress?" Floria asked again in complete disbelief.

"Oui, Mademoiselle. That is correct. As far as I know I'm the only one by that name in the shire, and, probably the entire land, to be — "

"I am very honoured to make your acquaintance, Madam." Floria whispered dryly, and curtseyed.

"C'est bon, Mademoiselle. Do come in. I've a few questions." Madam Oberon said as she held the door wider to allow the entry of the Mistress, and the Sheriff.

Once the door was closed, Floria looked to Madam Oberon.

"I have not stolen your… work, Madam. In case that is what your questions are about. I'm inspired by your work, but, I have too many of my own ideas that I need to complete." Floria said straightway.

"I can see that, Mademoiselle. Come, be seated." Madam Birghiva gestured to a soft sofa.

Once she was seated, Madam Oberon and the Sheriff sat upon chairs across from her.

"Mon Seigneur Sheriff tells me you've been making your own clothing for years, am I correct?"

"Yes. I've been serious about it for six years now. I was five when I learned how to sew." Floria said.

"And, how old are you now?" Madam Oberon asked directly.

Floria was confused why so many people today were asking such personal questions. Why did these people care so much what her age was or the particulars about her clothes?

"I am fifteen years, Madam."

"Tres bien. Now. I'd like you to stand for me and remove your cape."

"Pardon, Madam?" Floria was stunned.

"Oui. Stand up, Mademoiselle. Remove the cape. I'd like to see the gown."

"Oh. Very well." Floria obeyed.

Underneath the silver velvet cape, Floria wore a wing collared, raw silk gown which was grey in colour with soft pink accents. Small pink buttons closed the bodice, and pink lace finished the sleeves and collar.

"It has such an elegant simplicity to it. Classic, Mademoiselle. I like it." Madam Oberon smiled.

"Thank you, Madam. May I put my cape back on now?" Floria asked.

"In a moment. First I'd like to inspect the lining of it. I'm curious to see how you matched that colour to that of the velvet."

Floria handed the cape to Madam Oberon for closer inspection, still a little bewildered by this whole ordeal.

"C'est magnifique! I love how you paired this beautiful soft pink satin lining to the silver velvet, Mademoiselle." Madam Oberon smiled.

"Thank you, Madam. May I have it back now?" Floria asked.

"Oui." Madam Oberon nodded as she passed it to the young lady.

"Are there more questions?" Floria asked as she fastened the ribbons on her cape.

Madam Oberon looked to the Sheriff and smiled, nodding her head.

He nodded in agreement.

"Oui, Mademoiselle Floria. How would you like to assist me?" Madam Oberon smiled.

"Assist you with what?" Floria asked with genuine curiosity.

The Sheriff and Madam Oberon exchanged knowing glances at one another.

Floria was bewildered.

"Oh. Do you want to hire me to seduce a lover or something?" she asked them both. Then she looked to the Sheriff. "Or, are you one of those elite people who like to host fetes where lechery is the main theme?" Floria attempted to guess.

Back in the Council Quarters the Gisbornes, and Isabelle Wordsworth were looking over at Madam Birghiva, trying to make sense of things.

"Excuse me, Madam." Isabelle broke the silence and approached the red haired Madam. "Your clothing was made by the young mistress, you said. Is that correct?"

"Aye. She does fine work, that one." Madam Birghiva said.

"However has she time?" Rhiannon asked.

"I don't schedule her as much as the other girls. You saw her. She's still a bit young." the Madam said.

"I see." Rhiannon nodded.

"Are you being truthful that you don't know the reason he summoned you?" Meridwyn asked directly.

"Aye. We just received word yesterday when a scroll was delivered to us. We were asked to dress well, and Floria was instructed to wear her own creations. As it happened, she had these items on hand to show even more of her work." Madam Birghiva said as she indicated her gown, cape, and gloves.

"Unbelievable. She's as good as Madam Oberon." Meridwyn said, shaking her head in awe.

"May we take a closer look, Madam?" Isabelle asked.

"Yes, I think that is in order." Rhiannon added.

"Yes. You may. Just don't get too close to me. It makes it difficult to breathe." Madam Birghiva explained.

Guy turned his head away from her, sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It's just lovely. The fabric choice, the colour. It combines nicely with your hair and eyes, Madam., if I may say." Isabelle complimented.

"You may. Thank you. Floria has a good eye. She is creative, and she is the only one of the lot of my girls who never gives me one spot of trouble. She's the only one who doesn't partake in hard spirits or opium." Madam Birghiva said, completely unaware that this endorsement she just gave would be used later in a surprising way.

"That is surely good to know, Madam, but, it still doesn't explain why the Sheriff has taken her away to continue their meeting. You sure you're unaware of the meaning of all of this… time wasting nonsense?" Guy suddenly blurted as he arose from his seat and walked toward the Madam.

The ladies were surprised as Guy had remained quiet until now, ever since the Sheriff led Mistress Floria away.

"Guy, he told us a little of why he summoned for her. We just don't know where he's taken her." Meridwyn reminded him.

"Yes, but it still doesn't make sense, Meridwyn." Guy said. He looked once more to the Madam.

"I am very sure. I can only try to guess what this is about, but, I haven't thought of any reason that sounds plausible yet, so… " Madam Birghiva shrugged.

"Wait a minute. What if he took her to meet Madam Oberon?" Meridwyn suggested.

"That would be interesting. Floria is an admirer of the seamstress' work." Madam Birghiva said.

"But, why, my dearest?" Guy asked. "What would be the purpose? To obtain Madam Oberon's autograph? It's grand the girl can make fine clothes, but, who cares?" Gisborne pondered to his wife.

"There has to be reason, Guy. I mean, we haven't known him to make a poor decision in three years time." Meridwyn said.

Rhiannon's ears pricked at that last bit Meridwyn stated. It was strange to hear about her betrothed's past behaviour. It was well known to everyone, but Rhiannon didn't witness it. Occasionally she would see small glimmers of his former self shining through his practiced, more measured approach. Sometimes she wondered if she had seen that side of him, would she have paid attention to him? Would she have felt anything for him?

She looked away for a moment. What is wrong with me? Why am I having these strange thoughts lately? He's right. We're a perfect match. Why am I questioning certain things when I know deep inside my soul that he is the man I used to daydream about? I'd see him in my dreams while I slept. And, why am I more afraid of being tethered to a child forever than the process of giving life to a child?

"What if… she was brought here to be an assistant of Madam Oberon's, or something of that nature? Madam Oberon is up to her silver chignon with orders for gowns for the wedding." Isabelle said.

"No. That can't be the reason. My goodness! I certainly hope that is not the case. She's the best girl I have." Madam Birghiva frowned. She hated to admit it, but, Lady Isabelle's idea was certainly plausible.

"May I remind you whom you're dealing with, Missy?" Nottingham warned with a quirk of his brow.

"We both know that it wouldn't be the first time a nobleman hosted such an event. So, which is it you need my assistance with?" Floria asked.

Madam Oberon and the Sheriff both looked away from the young mistress to conceal their grins in response to her naivety. Mistress Floria regarded them curiously, and decided just then to be a little more direct about it.

"Excuse me, Milord? Madam Oberon?"

They both looked up at her.

"Can one of you tell what this is all about? I'm not sure if I was brought here to be shamed, tossed into the dungeon, or both. If it's not too much to ask, I beg of you — what is the purpose of being put on show today and asked such highly personal questions?" Mistress Floria inquired boldly.

"All is well, Miss — " the Sheriff started to say, but was interrupted.

"You keep saying that, but, how am I to believe that? I've been toyed with and treated like a stage performer ever since I arrived." she sighed. "I'd like to leave now." Floria announced, flatly.

"You misunderstand, Mademoiselle Floria — " Madam Oberon was cut off.

"No. I don't believe I do. This is unnerving. I would like to go home now, if you please." Floria stated firmly.

"What home, Floria? From what I gathered, there is no home." Nottingham said.

"The brothel is home for now. Madam Birghiva is good to me — as good to me as my mother was. She makes it a home — and she has never once shamed me." Floria said as she stood and headed toward the door.

"Look Missy, you got this all wrong. I want to employ you right here in this castle — not as a courtesan." the Sheriff said, as he stood and walked closer toward her.

Floria stood frozen a moment with one hand on the doorknob, then turned around to face them. She shook her head slowly.

"Excuse me?"

"Oui, Mademoiselle Floria. You shall work as my assistant. I could use an extra pair of hands. It's quite busy of late." Madam Oberon said. She arose from her seat and walked toward them, taking her place beside the Sheriff.

"That's a nice thought, but, I'm already employed." Floria said simply.

"True, but you have a talent, Missy. Here, you could learn from the best and get paid for something other than… what you're currently doing." Nottingham said.

"Yes, That is true. Here's the problem: Madam Birghiva pays me quite well, looks after me, too; and I can save more money to open my shop, featuring my own creations. I'm capable of making many different types of apparel. I do not need to be someone's assistant." Floria said firmly.

Both Nottingham and Madam Oberon we're visibly shocked by her response to their offer.

"Mademoiselle, you would be looked after here, as well. I'm sure mon Seigneur Sheriff would agree to let you visit Madam Birghiva frequently. You are skilled. This would be a good starting place for you to achieve that dream." Madam Oberon smiled.

"That is correct. Madam Birghiva seems to be respected by you, and you would be free to see her anytime you wish." a beat. "It is time, Missy. Time to take the next step towards your own shop." the Sheriff said.

"You really think it's a good starting point? I don't assist anyone, and no one assists me. I design and sew my own clothes. What shall I be assisting you with, Madam? Cutting? Pinning? Sewing your creations? What if I'd like to sew my creations?" Floria asked with a quirk of her brow.

"Of course, you'd be permitted to sew your own designs, as well. It depends what the clients want, truthfully, Mademoiselle."

"I see." Floria said.

Madam Oberon looked to the Sheriff.

"May I have a few moments in private with Mademoiselle Floria, mon Seigneur Sheriff?" Madam Oberon said with a reassuring wink of her blue eye.

"Very well. I shall leave you ladies alone for a time." the Sheriff nodded. He went toward the door then exited the chambers.

The Sheriff spotted Luke outside of the door and approached him.

"Alright, lad. You can tell me. What's going on with you and the Mistress? Do you two know each other?" Nottingham asked directly.

"No, Milord. I met her for the first time just this morning. I don't visit the brothel. Don't have time for it. When the time comes for female companionship, I will choose a real lady." Luke said as he looked to the floor.

"Hmm. That last part. Were you trying to tell me that — or convince yourself?" Nottingham asked with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Milord?"

"Funny. I saw the way you two looked at each other. You didn't appear disinterested to me." Nottingham pointed out.

"Right." Luke sighed. "She's just… not what I expected, Milord. She looks more like a noblewoman than a consort. She's dressed very fine, and she appears a bit on the youthful side. Isn't she a bit young to be… doing that?" Luke added.

"One would think." the Sheriff said with a knowing look. "As for your comment on her attire, that's the thing, lad. She does dress nicely, and she makes her own garments. Myself and Madam Oberon have been trying to talk her into accepting a position here."

"Really? And why would she need convincing, Milord?"

"It seems she's not interested in being anyone's assistant. Says she prefers to work alone. Madam Oberon is trying further to convince her, so, we'll see." a beat. " If she accepts the offer, you might want to tone down your pursuit of the girl." Nottingham advised.

"She seems nice, Milord… "

"Remember what you said moments ago regarding a real lady? It's going to take some time before the people in the Village forget her as a consort. I don't want your reputation sullied getting mixed up romantically with her. In time, you can do as you wish; however, right now, you'll be known as the Black Knight with a whore for a lady friend." a beat. "You're better than that, lad."

"And you must believe she is better than the other ladies at the brothel if you're offering her a position on your staff, Milord?"

"She has talent to offer. Madam Oberon is my lady's and Lady Gisborne's Wardrobe Mistress. If Floria accepts, she will be assisting her." Nottingham explained.

"I see."

"Do you? It's going to get awkward if you pursue this fantasy. Plus, there's the matter of Rule number one."

"Very well, Milord. Duly noted." Luke nodded in his usual show of deference.

Yet, for the first time the Sheriff had the distinct impression that Luke was only trying to placate him with his agreement.

Thirty minutes later the Sheriff and Mistress Floria returned to the Council Quarters. Everyone assembled there looked upon them curiously.

Madam Birghiva looked to the Sheriff questioningly, and was the first to speak.

"Can you finally tell us what this is about, Milord?" the Madam asked directly.

Mistress Floria sighed nervously and looked downcast, her hands clasped in front of her.

"Floria has accepted a position here as Madam Oberon's assistant." the Sheriff announced.

"You were right, Isabelle." Meridwyn whispered to Isabelle.

"Wait… excuse me?" Madam Birghiva demanded.

"Not until I finish out some more time with you, Madam. It's not straightway." Floria attempted to reassure.

"Oh, reall — " the Sheriff was cut off.

"Is this what you truly want?" the Madam asked.

"Yes. It will be good experience for me." Floria explained.

"I'm pleased for you, Missy. I'm sad for myself, however."

"I know." Floria nodded.

"You will still be able to see her. Anytime you wish." Nottingham reassured the Madam.

"Oh, good." she nodded, then turned to Floria. "I'll keep your room ready for you whenever you — " Madam Birghiva started to say, but was interrupted.

"No. She shall stay here. You can visit her anytime you wish, Madam. I think it's best she stays put. Soon it will be known she is employed here and works with Madam Oberon. Some… ladies at the brothel may not like that." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Oh. Yes. I think you're right." the Madam agreed.

"Wait. Must I begin immediately? This was most unexpected, Milord. I'm not prepared for this yet, and I'm sure Madam Birghiva isn't, either." Floria explained.

"Indeed." Madam Birghiva said.

"I suppose that can be arranged. How much time do you need?" the Sheriff asked.

"There's an auspicious occasion fast approaching, which I'm certain Madam Oberon would need help with." Meridwyn reminded the girl.

"Not too long. A few days, perhaps?" Floria directed her question to the Sheriff, ignoring the comment by Lady Gisborne.

"Alright. Very well. Only because you shall need to gather your things." he relented.

Floria nodded.

Madam Birghiva looked downcast and frowned.

Floria looked to the three ladies who stood by the table.

"I'm guessing I shall be helping Madam Oberon with your gowns? For the upcoming wedding, I mean."

"Yes. Although I'm not sure what is left to do with them. Meridwyn's gown is completed. Madam Oberon has mine nearly finished; and she is also working on Isabelle's gown." Rhiannon said.

"I shall be most interested to see them." Floria said.

"Indeed." Isabelle agreed with a nod.

The ladies decided it was their cue to leave to allow the Sheriff privacy to work out the details of Mistress Floria's new occupation, with the Mistress and her Madam.

Rhiannon walked over to the girl and spoke first.

"Your work is good. You know, I'm partial to Madam Oberon's gowns, but, I'm looking forward to wearing a creation of yours, as well." Rhiannon smiled.

"I thank you, Lady Wordsworth. I look forward to collaborating with you on that. I shall make it however you desire." Floria nodded.

Ladies Meridwyn and Isabelle were waiting close behind Rhiannon. She stepped away and they approached the new seamstress.

"I'll agree with that. You do fine work. As good as Madam Oberon in my opinion, but, don't tell her that." Meridwyn gave a halfhearted smile, then sighed. "Since I'm the Sheriff's Lieutenant's wife, I also feel comfortable adding: don't try anything funny around here — with our men, in particular."

"Meridwyn… " Gisborne sighed.

"You needn't worry about that, Lady Gisborne. I'm here to make clothes. Besides, there's only one gentleman I'm interested in, and… he's a little closer to my age. My days of selling my body are finished, thank God." Floria smiled.

The Sheriff regarded her with a quirk of his eyebrow. He knew exactly whom she was referring to. It had to be! He hoped Luke had paid some attention to the advice he gave him earlier. He sighed.

"Indeed." Meridwyn said.

"It was fascinating to meet you, Mistress Floria. If my husband approves, I, for one, shall be happy to wear one of your gowns. Everything you and Madam Birghiva are dressed in today is very pleasing to the eye." Isabelle said.

"Thank you, Lady Wordsworth. I shall like that."

"Yes, but, first she's coming home with me. And, let me tell you something." Madam Birghiva addressed Lady Meridwyn. "At the first sign of any trouble over here directed to Floria, I will be coming to get her out of here."

"I'm sure." Meridwyn said.

"There won't be any need for that, Madam. You shall see." Nottingham said.

With that the ladies left the Council Quarters, with Guy gently leading his wife out of there. He spoke to her briefly outside of the meeting room before heading toward the dungeon with the Scribe at his side, who had been waiting outside the doors to accompany the Lieutenant to the dungeon.

"Well, are we ready then to visit Madam Oberon about Isabelle's gown?" Rhiannon said to them.

"Yes. First, I need to put a word in with Jean Louis about a craving I have. I want to make a request for later when I dine with Guy." Meridwyn said.

"Very well. You do that and we shall wait for you on the bench that's over by the stairwell." Rhiannon said.

"Yes, we might as well all go together to see Madam Oberon." Isabelle said.

"Perfect. I'll see you both soon." Meridwyn nodded then made her way to the dining hall.

Ladies Rhiannon and Isabelle found their way to the marble bench that was placed beside the staircase and seated themselves.

"Do you think Madam Oberon will mind us coming by unannounced, Rhiannon? She's already been kept occupied today with that meeting." Isabelle said.

"She will be fine. She's probably the easiest one to get along with in this castle. Do not fret, Sister. She was prepared for the meeting anyway." Rhiannon reassured her, although, Rhiannon was worried that she kept the seamstress from the work on Isabelle's gown by asking her to make her leather fitted cape. She looked to her lap.

"Do you think Robert will like the colour? He's rather sedate, you know. I don't want him thinking I look like a… harlot." Isabelle whispered.

"He would never think that. He adores you! I can't fathom him even thinking that when he sees you in it. He will probably see the same as the rest of us: that you will look lovely. I'm sure of it." Rhiannon said, cheerily.

"I hope you're right." Isabelle said. He's never seen me in such a… bright colour."

"It's not that bright, Isabelle. Trust me. The colours can be a lot louder." Rhiannon said, thinking of the colours she'd witnessed Madam Birghiva wearing in the past.

"Hard to imagine such a thing." Isabelle remarked.

"Indeed. Never mind all of that. Heed my words, Isabelle. You make Robert happy."

"Yes." Isabelle said softly.

"Hmm. That reminds me of a comment you made on Thursday at Madam Oberon's when she left the room for a time. I said the same thing to you then, that you make Robert happy. And you said, "I'll tell you more about that sometime, my dear." What was that about Isabelle?"

"I don't think we have the time to get into that just now, Rhiannon."

"You jesting right now? We've plenty of time. Meridwyn will be a few minutes yet. That woman never quits eating. She's craving things incessantly." a beat. "Glad I'm not. I worry she's going to get too big." Rhiannon shuddered before getting back to her main point. "What did you mean by that, honestly? Is everything well with you and my brother? Are you worried you don't make him happy?"

"It's really not an issue, Sister. I don't know what I was think — "

"Sure you do. You wouldn't have said that if there were no shadow of a doubt." Rhiannon pointed out.

"Everything is fine with Robert and I. It was just a comment about… that I'm sure I could make him happier." Isabelle said softly.

"You do make him happy. What do you mean?"

"Rhiannon, let it go. There's nothing to fret about." Isabelle said.

"For the love of Mary, Isabelle! You're going to be there when I give my child life. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You wouldn't have said that if you didn't want to tell me."

"Alright. That is what the problem is — what you just spoke of. I haven't been able, for some unknown, god-forsaken reason to give him a child. We dearly want one, but, it doesn't seem to be in the plans. I know if I could give him such news, that then I will have made him truly and completely happy." Isabelle said.

"There's still time yet, Isabelle. You mustn't give up."

"We're older than you, Rhiannon. Time is not on my side."

"For goodness sake, you make yourself sound like you're a crone. I'm sure it will happen for you. Just be patient. A baby will come."

"It did once… " Isabelle said softly.

"What's that, Isabelle?"

"It's what we want." Isabelle said, quickly changing her wording.

"Then be patient, Sister. It will come." Rhiannon smiled.

"Sure." Isabelle murmured.

"Perhaps a change of scenery would do you some good? I know just the thing. I'm just debating whether to tell George about it. He frets too much about me. It would make us both feel better if you came with me. Of course, we couldn't tell him about it until after the fact." Rhiannon mentioned, partly to change the topic, and also to plant the idea with Isabelle. If she had Isabelle with her, it would be the only way he'd agree to it. She was still deciding whether to mention it to him, however. I hate lying to him, but, my goodness, he can make such a fuss!

"Would we be travelling far? If we were I would need to tell Robert. I wouldn't ask him to lie to your betrothed, because that's where he'd make a fuss. Having to lie."

"That's rich, considering the gigantic lie he kept going for two years with me, isn't it?" Rhiannon rolled her eyes.

"You know why he did that, Rhiannon. He thought he was protecting you. You've only known your betrothed a year, correct? Well, three years ago he was no angel. I heard all about it from my Robert. And, even before I met your brother it was the talk of the land. Honestly, Rhiannon, where were you that you heard nothing of the notorious Sheriff of Nottingham during the days of Robin Hood? Stuck in a cave?" Isabelle sighed.

"I was busy looking after myself, and our family home." Rhiannon said, curtly. She sighed. "Forgive me. Back to the point: we won't be going far, so Robert doesn't need to know. We would be back in no time at all." a beat. "Do you ride?"

"Do I look like I ride to you? I should say a carriage would be in order." Isabelle said with her eyes widened.

"You don't ride? At all?" Rhiannon asked, a little surprised.

"Couldn't we walk?"

"Ha! No."

"I mean, I know how to ride. Sort of. I just prefer a carriage." Isabelle said.

"Good. Then I've the perfect solution. This will work." Rhiannon smiled.

Down within the bowels of the sub level, Guy and the Scribe were entering into the dungeon. Joseph noticed him straightway and walked over to greet him.

"Good day, Sir Gisborne." Joseph nodded.

"Yes, Joseph. Good day. How is our new prisoner settling in?"

"Oh, the short bloke. Where'd you find this fellow — a travelling sideshow troupe?" Joseph chuckled.

"He's wanted for planning a murder — on one Lady Rhiannon Wordsworth." Gisborne said simply with a quirk of his brow.

"The Sheriff's lady?" Joseph asked while his eyes widened.

"Correct."

"How was he planning to do that? Take out her knee with an arrow?" Joseph gave a knowing grin.

"There's many ways of achieving it, Joseph. You know this." Guy sighed.

"Right. Forgive me. Just find it hard to believe. The bloke doesn't look like he would be capable of much."

"Indeed. Where is he?"

"Right this way, Sir Gisborne. I've got him in a cell." the jailer assured him before leading the way.

"Good."

Joseph led Gisborne and the Scribe some ten yards away where the prisoner was kept. He unlocked the door and the two men entered inside.

"Ah! You again. Are you here to negotiate my release then?" Hamon asked boldly.

"Ha! Hardly. Not for the crime you're being charged with." Gisborne said.

"Right. Then what do you want with me?"

"You shall answer some questions for me."

"Naturally." Hamon huffed.

"First, you will state your name."

"You already know my name — and the name of my late sister."

"Indeed. Your full name." Guy rolled his eyes as he approached closer to the chained prisoner.

"Sure. How full do you want? Middle name, too? Fine. Hamon Hardwin Hatchet. You want date of birth now? You already know where I hail from."

"You must be jesting!" Gisborne shook his head at Hamon, then faced the Scribe. "Scribe, did you get that?"

"Aye, Sir Gisborne. I'm not exactly sure on the spelling of the middle name, though. But, everything is documented." the Scribe then leaned into him and whispered, "Including the man's impertinence, if you'll pardon me for speaking out of turn, Sir."

"Good, Scribe." Guy grinned at him for a brief moment before turning his attention back toward the unfortunate looking bloke with the even more unfortunate series of names. He narrowed his eyes.

"No. No one cares about your birthday around here, Mister Hamon Hardhead Hatchet… "

At this moment the Scribe was attempting to conceal a chuckle — with great difficulty. He lowered his head to focus on his tablet as he took notes.

"… we're more interested in your death day, so you can cut the self righteous bit, right now." Gisborne said gruffly as he pulled a dagger from the sheath attached to his belt. He walked slowly, closer to the prisoner and pointed it toward his chin.

Hamon looked to the Scribe. "Hardwin is the middle name. That's H-A-R — "

"Shut it, fool. Nobody cares. And, quit stalling with your ridiculous theatrics! When were you planning to carry out the deed?"

"Soon."

"How?" Gisborne asked.

"However the moment strikes me, I suppose." his use of wording completely intentional.

"Fire?"

"Well, that would depend on my mood, as I said. T'would be fitting, though." Hamon brazenly admitted.

"Yet, you've never even met her." Gisborne pointed out.

"Correct. It doesn't matter, however. She's closely associated with him, and he killed my sister." Hamon said.

"That's fine. We are done here. I'm sure your display will have a strong influence on his decision. Well done!" Guy grinned, moving the blade close enough to the man's chin so that he could feel it, without drawing blood.

In the Council Quarters the Sheriff had worked out the details of wages and terms with Mistress Floria with the Madam present. At the end of it he asked Madam Birghiva to wait briefly outside the door with Luke so he could have a word with Floria. The Madam agreed and left them.

Once the door was closed the Sheriff turned to Floria.

"I see you got your drawstring bag back. Good." the Sheriff said as he nodded to the embroidered bag she held in one hand.

"Yes. Madam Oberon gave it back to me when we spoke. She said you brought it to her with the thought in mind to bring me in to help her." Floria explained.

"Yes. I asked Madam Birghiva to give me something small that you'd created to show to Lady Arianna. I needed her opinion before I proceeded further."

"I see. I do appreciate the opportunity, Milord." Floria nodded.

"That is good. For awhile there I wasn't sure about that." Nottingham commented with his eyebrow quirked.

"Yes. I did have a couple of misgivings. However, I won't disappoint you." Floria said.

"Good. Let us hope. There is really only one thing that concerns me." he hinted.

"And, what is that, Milord?" Floria asked as her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Let's just get one thing straight, Missy. You are here to work, and you shall be housed in fine quarters for your off hours, just as Lady Arianna is; but, you are not here to dally with any of my Knights." Nottingham warned.

"Who said anything about dall — " she was cut off.

"Don't be coy with me, Missy! You know exactly what I'm referring to. Even a blind man could see it." a beat. "Luke can't afford the distraction. He's one of my best, and one of only a handful of my top men. Understood?" he emphasized the last part sternly, with his arms folded.

"What if it's too late?" Floria asked.

"There's no such thing as "too late" since you only just met him this day. In fact, it's a good time to end this… whatever this is going on with you two. Both of you are needed here. Remember that." he stated firmly.

"Got it." Floria nodded.

"I hope you do, Missy. Heed my words: do not be getting any ideas about Luke or any of my men. Do we understand each other?"

"What if I disagree? How about that? You going to have me hanged, or something… now that you've employed me? Like those other men on your staff?" Floria said, suddenly reverting back to the impertinent girl when she first saw him. When she was servicing another, and he barged into her chamber looking for Celestria. Floria sighed.

He saw it straightway, her change in behaviour. He was not amused.

"Yes, I've been brought up to date on the things I missed, coming from another town. I heard about the two staff who paid the ultimate price for displeasing you. One as recent as two months ago." Floria said, brazenly.

"They did a lot more than displease me, Missy — not that I need to justify my decision to you. They put people at risk. One day I might tell you about it, we shall see. In the meantime you shall keep your wild behaviour in check. Are we clear?"

"Aye. You never did answer me. So what if I disobeyed on that point? Would you have me killed, too?"

"No. You'd be sent back to wherever it is which you came, and not to the brothel — where you're coddled by the Madam you hold so dear. You would lose both of your current… positions." Nottingham grinned. "Pun intended, of course." he cleared his throat and straightened his expression. "Look , Missy, in time — a long time from now, you two can do what you wish. If you prove yourself with me, you shall have my blessing. However, this is not the time to pursue it. He's fairly new here, and you're the newest staff. The reason you were both invited to join us is because your work is important.

"I am not jesting about sending you to whichever town you came from. You either work for me, or you can work for Madam Birghiva. Since you choose to work for me, you shall follow my rules. Rule number one is: don't get mixed up with anyone from work. Now do you understand?" Nottingham said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"You'd really send me back… to my hometown? Where I had to leave to support myself?" Floria whispered, her eyes widened in horror.

"Try me." he said simply.

"Very well. Duly noted, Milord." Floria relented, with regret.

"You don't look so convinced."

"It makes me question whether I made the right decision. Now I have a new misgiving. At least if I continued to work for Madam Birghiva, I could possibly see — "

"Luke? Oh, you might see him, but he would never court you. Not if you're a consort. You'd be lucky to have him set foot through the door. So, you see, your best option is over here."

"I see. Very well, Milord." the young consort conceded.

Floria couldn't help but wonder, however, what the Sheriff meant by saying she and Luke could pursue… whatever, "a long time from now." What exactly was his definition of a "long time"? Six months from now? A year? Longer than that? She sighed. She realized she should just concentrate on the work once she officially began her duties. She still wondered if the Sheriff did something to Celestria. He seemed awfully determined to find her as he came looking for her at the brothel often enough. Floria decided she had best tread carefully so as not to anger him. She hated being told to stay away from Luke, but, she didn't relish the thought of dying, either.

Madam Oberon was a little surprised to have guests to her quarters again so soon. She greeted the ladies with a smile when she opened the door.

"Mes chers! How nice to see you. Are you here about the gowns? I've completed yours, Dame Isabelle." Madam Oberon said. She beckoned for the ladies to enter inside.

"That's wonderful, Madam. That's exactly the gown we're here about." Isabelle said. She fidgeted slightly in an attempt to be discreet, but, her friends noticed, notwithstanding.

"C'est bon! Of course, I can alter it to suit you, mon cher, if it's not to your liking."

"I'm sure it will surpass anything I've imagined, Madam Oberon." Isabelle smiled.

"I can't wait to see it." Meridwyn said.

"I'm eager to see it, too." Rhiannon agreed.

"Bon! Now, mes chers, have a seat, s'il vous plaît, and I shall take Isabelle to get changed. I must check the fit of the gown." Madam Oberon smiled.

The seamstress took Isabelle to the back room while the ladies seated themselves on the soft plush sofa in the sitting room — which Madam Oberon often referred to as a salon.

"Isabelle seems a bit nervous." Meridwyn commented.

"Yes, about the colour. I think she worries what my brother will think of it." Rhiannon said.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. The woman could use a bit of colour in her life. The only colour I've seen her wearing is blue. Most of the time it's dark colours. Why would she worry so?"

"I guess because Robert is… well, rather understated. I don't know how else to describe it. He's always been the wise, sensible one. He's usually not a risk taker, which surprises me that he got mixed up with Robin of Locksley and was one of his men. Perhaps war changed him, I don't know." Rhiannon shrugged.

"You know, I was with Will during part of that time. I met the men once. I don't remember your brother at all, oddly." Meridwyn said in hushed tones, in case isabelle made a quiet entrance from the dressing room.

"He told me he kept to himself and was more of a background player. I guess it was a survival tactic. The point is, except for being on George's wanted list for being a low level criminal, my brother usually does everything by the books — books of law and religion. Isabelle is worried that… Robert will think less of her when he sees her wearing a bright colour." Rhiannon explained.

"She thinks that's bright? For heaven's sake, Rhi, we better be encouraging with her." Meridwyn suggested.

"Yes, I think that's best. She needn't worry. If he gives her any grief over it, I swear I'll kick his backside." Rhiannon said, shaking her head. She was glad her betrothed wasn't as proper as her eldest brother. In fact, he was nothing like that. She looked down to her lap and smiled.

"What about you, honey? Is everything well these days? You don't speak of your upcoming nuptials much, in fact, hardly at all. I thought I'd be regaled incessantly about it, honestly."

"There's plenty of time yet to think of it." Rhiannon said.

"Not much, Rhiannon. In exactly a fortnight you will be wed." Meridwyn pointed out

"I know. Not to worry. Everything is prepared for it, and I'm happy, my friend. I'm thinking of other things."

"Like what, for instance?" Meridwyn asked.

"A combination birthday and wedding gift for my betrothed. It must be spectacular. And… a quick trip over to my manor." she murmured.

"Rhiannon! No. You mustn't. What are you thinking? You know he'll pitch an absolute fit!" Meridwyn exclaimed as she kept her voice lowered.

"That's why I'm taking Isabelle with me. She has experience assisting in childbirth. It won't be for long. I need to check on things there, Meridwyn. I'm just about losing my senses over this being cooped up thing." Rhiannon said firmly, rolling her eyes. "And not a word of this to anyone, by the way."

"Rhiannon, you are impossible sometimes. This is a poor decision and you know it!"

"Look, I'm not sure when this will happen. It could be a few days from now, up to a sennight. No one will even notice our absence it will be that brief. You will likely hear about it after the fact from Isabelle and me." Rhiannon attempted to reassure her.

"Rhiannon, I don't know about this. I'm usually in your corner, but, I think he's on to something about keeping you safe. You gave us all a scare just recently. I was worried you were going to lose the child, lady! Do not be impulsive! It's foolish to do so." Meridwyn warned.

"I've contemplated the matter, Meridwyn. There shall be next to no risks to myself or the child. The only risk I see is George working himself up into a right state if he should find out about it." Rhiannon said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

Meridwyn shook her head and sighed.

"I'm going to have to think about this, my dear. Sorry." she said softly.

Rhiannon sighed, as she fixed her eyes directly on Meridwyn's, disapprovingly.

"Mes chers, pourquoi si sombre?" Madam Oberon suddenly interrupted as she breezed into the room.

"Pardon, Madam Oberon?" Meridwyn asked.

"Oui. Forgive me. I asked… why do you both seem bleak? We've much to celebrate, mes chers. There's lots of surprises I'm planning for you all on Mademoiselle Rhiannon's special day; and wait until you see Isabelle's gown!" Madam Oberon said excitedly in her cheery, sing song voice.

"Oh, of course." Meridwyn nodded.

"It's not too… extreme, is it? The colour on her, I mean?" Rhiannon asked.

"Non, Mademoiselle. Elle ressemble à un rêve." the Seamstress smiled.

Rhiannon smiled.

"Pardon, Madam?" Meridwyn asked.

"I said that Isabelle looks like a dream."

"Oh. How divine! Now… what's this about the mention of… surprises?" Meridwyn asked.

"All in good time, mon cher. I mustn't spoil it. Both of you cheer up. I'm bringing Isabelle out in a moment. She has some hesitancy about the gown, but, I think she's just not accustomed to such finery, personally." Madam Oberon explained.

"I was afraid this might happen." Rhiannon sighed.

"It'll be alright, Rhi. We have our work cut out for us, but, it will be grand, I'm sure. Let's do our best to lure Isabelle out of some of that ho hummery, shall we?"

Rhiannon giggled, in spite of herself.

"That's better! Now remember, I think she's a bit in shock at the moment. I will go and bring her out now." Madam Oberon said. She turned and headed back into the dressing room leaving the ladies feeling heightened curiosity over Isabelle's gown.

In moments Isabelle stood before them, with Madam Oberon by her side. She smiled ruefully and looked downcast, her hands clasped in front of her.

"Oh, Isabelle… " Rhiannon murmured.

"It's divine. You look ravishing, indeed." Meridwyn smiled.

"Maybe it's a little… too much?" Isabelle pondered.

"Let's get you over to that mirror, mon cher, and you shall see. It is just right for you." Madam Oberon smiled as she gently led Isabelle to the mirror.

Isabelle stood before it and slowly looked up. Finally she could see herself, the full length of the gown. She was pleased how it looked, yet still, she hesitated.

"It's… lovely, but, it's too much. It's bright, and quite fancy. It shall take eyes off Rhiannon, and I don't want that for her. It's not proper." Isabelle sighed.

"Oh, for heaven's — " Meridwyn was cut off.

"There will be lots of colour at the wedding, Isabelle. You mustn't worry. You won't stand out any more than anyone else." Rhiannon assured her.

"For God's sake, Isabelle. Live a little. It's honestly perfect for you. It's sensible and whimsical all at once — just as you are." Meridwyn smiled knowingly.

"Honestly?" Isabelle asked.

"She's right. And now, you're being silly. You look beautiful, and Robert is going to love it." Rhiannon smiled.

"You really think so?"

"He grew up with a sister. Do you think I dressed like a Nun? In drab colours? He's seen me wear colour. Why would he object to it?"

"I suppose you're right. He's just not… accustomed to seeing me in a gown like this."

"Or maybe… it's you that's not accustomed to seeing you dressed this way? I suggest you get used to it. Out with the old, in with the new. It's a refreshing change, Isabelle. It suits you. Just enjoy it!" Meridwyn said.

"Well said, Dame Meridwyn." Madam Oberon nodded.

"Is there a way we could… make it less ostentatious, though? I mean… it really stands out." Isabelle asked the seamstress.

"It's a plain enough design?" Rhiannon commented.

"I think she means the colour." Meridwyn added. Then she turned to Isabelle. "Let me guess, you want it muted in some way. You want her to steep it in a cauldron of tea?" she asked as she nodded toward the seamstress.

"Something like that." Isabelle said.

"I wouldn't want to ruin it. I generally make the clothes. I don't dye the fabrics… oh, except for that one time a couple of months ago." Madam Oberon sighed.

Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn gave knowing looks to one another, as they knew exactly which gown Madam Oberon was referring to which she did dye another colour.

"Very well. But, isn't there something you could do?" Isabelle asked.

"Oui. I'm sure I can think of something, mon cher." Madam Oberon nodded.

Ancel was once again presenting just outside of the dungeon doors. Alfred and Mordrid were there, dutifully standing guard and both eyed him curiously.

"Are you here to chat with us, or… " Mordrid began.

"No. I want to talk to him." Ancel said.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. Sir Guy and the Scribe just left him not too long ago." Alfred remarked.

"How did Sir Guy appear to you after that meeting?" Ancel asked.

"Frustrated, now that you mention it." Alfred said.

"I got the impression that Sir Gisborne didn't glean much from the interrogation." Mordrid added.

"Exactly. Because Hamon likes to play games." Ancel sneered.

"What's that in your hip flask, Ancel?" Alfred asked as he nodded to it.

"You can't take that in there, Ancel — if we permit you to enter, that is." Mordrid pointed out.

"It's ale. I'm going to offer it to him, and then he will talk." Ancel said confidently.

"If Joseph sees that he won't be happy. He'll probably report it to the Sheriff. Don't be taking chances like that, Ancel. It breaks the rules. You are new here. Don't underestimate the Sheriff's ire." Mordrid warned.

"I know it's unorthodox, but, I also know it will work. Hamon likes to play games. This will lower his guard, and I can guarantee I might possibly gather some information that he didn't disclose to Sir Gisborne." Ancel said.

"I don't know about this, Mordrid. If the Sheriff finds out we knew about Ancel smuggling ale into the prisoner's cell, what will he do to us? Hang us?" Alfred pointed out.

"I've told you before it's senseless to make baseless assumptions about our employer, Alfred. God's nightgown!" Mordrid huffed.

"It's a fair assumption if you ask me." Alfred grumbled.

"Not if I can get that bastard to talk, Alfred. Don't you see? I'm not going to unchain him. I'm going to hold the flask to his lips, get him relaxed, and maybe he'll offer something more that will help the investigation, because, hopefully, he'll be too inebriated to care." Ancel explained.

"From one flask of ale?" Alfred said.

"Yep. One flask of ale — with a drop or two of opium added into it." Ancel grinned deviously.

"Oh, you're good, Ancel. Downright mischievous!" Mordrid smirked.

"Where'd you get that?" Alfred asked.

"It's not important. What is important is granting me access so that I can gather some useful information to report to our employer to guide him in the decision on how punitive he needs to be with the prisoner. I believe he'll be more forthcoming with me than Sir Guy." Ancel said. "So, what say you?"

"I'm thinking about it. If we do grant you entry you best hide that damn flask from Joseph and the guards in there." Alfred said.

"I agree. Hide that flask and I'll cover for you with Joseph. I'll tell him the Sheriff sent you." Mordrid said.

"No, Mordrid. That's a blatant lie that may lead to the downfall of all three of us, and perhaps even Joseph for falling for it! We mustn't forget what happened to Hector and Cyrus!" Alfred said firmly.

"Those two let two wanted men go free, Alfred. This is different. Ancel is going in to get the stumpy bloke to talk. He has good intentions to help the Sheriff. He has already explained that he will not unchain the prisoner." Mordrid stated.

"Haven't you heard? A wise man once said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. We already know Ancel used to cavort with the man. What if he's got a different plan and he's actually going in there to free him?" Alfred warned in hush tones.

"Then you can kill me. How else would I get him out of there without having to pass you two? I told all of you that I was planning to meet with the Sheriff to warn him of Hamon's plans, even before Luke captured me. This is about proving to the Sheriff that I can do the job. I do believe I can get the bastard to talk." Ancel said.

Alfred just stared at him.

"Look, Joseph the jailer can wait right at the cell door. I just need a few minutes with him. I implore you, give me this chance to make some headway with the prisoner." Ancel argued.

"It's… actually a good plan. We can all explain this to the Sheriff afterward. I think he may have a few choice words for us for breaking a couple of rules, but, if Ancel can get the bloke to talk I think the Sheriff will be pleased. We'll probably just get a warning about sticking to the rules." Mordrid said.

"You had better be right, Mordrid. I'm agreeing to it because you seem agreeable to it, but, know this is against my better judgement." Alfred said.

"I promise you when we meet with the Sheriff about this I shall tell him you had misgivings about it." Mordrid said.

"Very well." Alfred nodded.

"You two stay here. I shall go inside and have a word with Joseph about this." Mordrid said. Then he headed through the doors.

"How would you make the gown… less… standoutish?" Isabelle asked the seamstress.

"Do you like lace, mon cher?" Madam Oberon asked.

"Yes." Isabelle asked, still curious about the seamstress' plans for the gown.

"But, Rhiannon's gown has lace. I thought the idea was not to take away from Rhiannon's gown?" Meridwyn added.

"It won't. Nothing will take away from Mademoiselle Rhiannon's wedding gown." Madam Oberon said.

"Can you accomplish it in time, though? You still have some adjustments to make on my gown, and Floria won't be here to assist you for a few days." Rhiannon pointed out.

"It's very simple. It won't take much time at all, mon cher." Madam Oberon reassured her.

"Where would you put the lace?" Isabelle asked.

"The bodice and sleeves." Madam Oberon said confidently.

"Hmm… just like Rhiannon's gown." Meridwyn frowned.

"But, it won't be like the wedding gown at all. You shall see. When it's completed I shall invite all three of you here to give your approval." Madam Oberon smiled.

"That sounds just fine, Madam Oberon." Rhiannon nodded.

"Very well." Isabelle said.

"Well, if it's fine with Rhi, then it's fine with me." Meridwyn agreed. She turned to Isabelle. "I do wish you'd reconsider, however. The colour looks glorious on you."

"I… uhh… " Isabelle stammered.

"What colour will the lace be, Madam Oberon? Surely not a match to the lace on Rhiannon's gown?" Meridwyn asked.

"It shall be a more muted shade than the colour of the velvet fabric of Isabelle's gown. It will not be white." Madam Oberon said.

"It sounds divine!" Rhiannon said.

"Yes, it does." Isabelle nodded.

"Well, Thank heavens for that." Meridwyn said.

"My apologies. I do not mean to be so difficult. Forgive me. I just don't want to give my sweet husband a shock." Isabelle added.

Rhiannon smiled at Isabelle's description of Robert. She was happy that her brother had such a devoted wife.

"It's not a problem, mon cher." Madam Oberon smiled.

"It's important most of all that you are comfortable with what you're wearing, Isabelle. I want everyone close to me to be happy on that day." Rhiannon smiled.

Everything was in place in the dungeon. Joseph agreed to permit Ancel to enter after a briefing by Mordrid on who Ancel was, his new position with the Black Knights, his former dealings with the prisoner, and that he was sent by the Sheriff to further interrogate the prisoner. Joseph stood guard just outside of the cell as Ancel entered inside.

Hamon was surprised to see who it was. He shook his head then spat on the ground beside him.

"You again! What the hell do you want?" Hamon asked gruffly.

"I brought you something. I thought it might help." Ancel said softly.

"Oh, good. Are you here to finally confess to me that this is all a ruse — you working for the Sheriff of Nottingham? This is all part of the plan to get me out of here, isn't it?" Hamon tested him.

"Very perceptive. Now, I'm sure you're thirsty?" Ancel said in hushed tones.

"Someone brought me a ladle of water and held it to my lips just before the Sheriff's Lieutenant visited. A ladle! Imagine?" Hamon said, shaking his head.

"How about some ale?" Ancel suggested as he pulled the flask from the inside pocket of his doublet and showed it to Hamon.

"Wait. Is this a trick?" Hamon asked.

"No."

Hamon regarded him curiously a moment before responding.

"Fine. Only if you have some with me. Insurance — in case you're here to poison me."

"When have you ever known me to do that?" Ancel challenged.

"Right. If you could unchain me it would be easier." Hamon said.

"Not now. Later. The jailer is just outside your door." Ancel said as he opened the flask. He held it to his lips and appeared to take a swallow, then he held the flask to the prisoners lips.

Hamon took a generous swig of it.

"That is good." Hamon remarked, nodding to the flask. "I never thought I'd care so much about missing it, but the water they gave me is vile. Won't be long before I'm sickened, I'm sure." Hamon huffed.

"Patience." Ancel said.

"This is insanity. You just alluded to the fact you are going to help my escape. That's rich when all you had to do was not hand me over to that Knight yesterday, and not bring me to the Sheriff's Lieutenant. Why would you not just let me make a fast exit? Or, just come with me so we could get back to the damn plan, Ancel? Why the hell would you join up with the Sheriff's militia? Is this your ruse — or his?" Hamon asked with his eyes narrowed questioningly on Ancel's.

"Look. I had to think of something when I was captured. This was the only way I could do anything to help you. If I were chained in this damn dungeon, I could do nothing to help you." Ancel said while keeping his voice lowered. He didn't want Joseph to hear him, even though everything he had to say to Hamon was a lie.

"You'd be surprised." Hamon muttered.

"About what?" Ancel asked.

"How an escape can be accomplished — by men who have half a brain." Hamon said.

"Sure. The chains and the numerous guards are a bit of a problem, though. I had to think of another angle." Ancel said.

Ancel was curious about that last comment by Hamon, however. Was Hamon planning something? How? Ancel sighed and shrugged it off. He'd never get anywhere if he didn't keep playing the game with Hamon. He would analyze this conversation after it was over.

"You must be jesting! This is ridiculous even for you!" Hamon huffed.

"I had to think of something, Hamon. It was the only thing I could think of to be of any use to you. Having a hand in your arrest was necessary. It showed the Sheriff he could trust me." Ancel added with a quirk of his brow.

"Ha ha! Classic! Did you hit your head or something? Did someone finally knock some sense into you? I'm having trouble believing you were capable of coming up with such plans."

You'd be surprised, you foolish old sod. Just keep believing that. We got you, you absolute fool. Ancel sighed as he looked at Hamon.

"You're actually serious, aren't you?" Hamon asked, incredulously.

"Aye. As serious as scrofula — or leprosy. Or even… black death." Ancel said, unblinking. He held the flask close to Hamon's mouth again.

"How the hell did you get him to believe you? To trust you enough to employ you as one of his men?" Hamon asked incredulously as he took another swig from the flask.

"Powers of persuasion, I suppose. Father always told me I should consider being a Barrister." Ancel winked.

"Ah ha ha! You must be jesting? I take it your father never saw the scores from your testing with your tutors then!" Hamon joked.

"No. I guess not." Ancel muttered, then held the flask to his own lips again, pretending to take a drink from it. He offered the flask to Hamon. "Here. Take some more. No doubt you could use it."

Hamon nodded and Ancel put the flask to his lips. This time he took one generous swig after another.

"How long did he question you — before he employed you, that is." Hamon asked curiously.

"Several hours. And not just him. It was a group effort. The first night it was hours of questioning by him, his Lieutenant, his Captain, and one of his top men. The one we saw at the tavern that night before his comrades came to his rescue." Ancel replied.

"Ah, yes. The tall, lanky, sanctimonious one." Hamon rolled his eyes. "So, that was it?"

"Not quite. I was questioned further for a time the following morning by the Sheriff, his Lieutenant, and his Captain."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but, impressive, dear boy." Hamon said.

"Indeed." Ancel nodded.

Hamon was beginning to feel the effects of the ale. He wondered why he'd be noticing it, but realized he hadn't eaten anything in quite a time. That had to increase the effects of it! He exhaled a sigh as his eyes tried to focus.

"Did you find the lady's manor? No doubt you've been looking for it." Ancel asked.

Hamon's ears suddenly perked, and he looked directly into Ancel's eyes.

"No. No luck yet. But, I will find it — with or without your help. People talk, you know." Hamon replied evasively.

"What do you mean by that, exactly?" Ancel asked, trying not to narrow his eyes.

"It means I haven't found it, but I will. There's Villagers who know her and speak of her. Some knew her even before the Sheriff did." Hamon said with a quirk of his brow.

"Whom, in particular? Can you name one?" Ancel pressed.

"Sure. How about two?" Hamon hinted.

Ancel stared at him.

"Matheus Busby, the farmer, and his wife, Constancia. All you have to do is visit the market on Saturdays and they are there selling eggs, dairy, and vegetables." Hamon said. "They've mentioned the wedding coming up. I bet they'll know where the cursed little bitch used to live."

In fact he did have a chat with the Busbys just a few days ago, but he wore a hooded cloak to hide his hair and keep himself hidden in plain sight. He was dressed like a monk. He knew they didn't recognize him as being a wanted criminal, and they were quite friendly, as it turned out. He grinned then let out a sigh.

"What a lovely lass his wife is. Bonny blue eyes, and hair like the golden sun. Shame she's married. And she's got that little brat holding unto her skirts. A boy they called "Ollie". Sniveling, pathetic little thing. He looks about three or four. What kind of lad behaves like that at that age?" Hamon rambled, as the effects of the opium tainted ale was beginning to kick in.

"Interesting." Ancel said.

"No! That's not what's interesting. Matheus' brother and his wife have seven little brats! Good God Almighty!" Hamon shook his head.

"And what did you mean when you said you'd find the manor with or without my help? How could you achieve this, getting out of here without my help?" Ancel pressed, trying to redirect Hamon back on topic.

Hamon looked at him a moment before he answered.

"Oh. Yes… I guess you're right, Ancel. I can't break free alone." Hamon nodded.

He was being too agreeable, and that's how Ancel knew the opium drops were working. He suppressed a grin. Yet, he wondered why Hamon hesitated before answering. Did he have to think of a lie? Or, was he just slow to respond because of the opium?

"How well do you think the Busby people know the Sheriff's lady?" Ancel asked.

"They spoke of her as if they knew her. It wouldn't surprise me if they knew where her actual manor is located, not the fake one you led me to." Hamon sneered. "Don't think your little servant lady won't be taken care of, because the plan hasn't changed." Hamon added, though he was starting to feel a bit sleepy, oddly. He must demand the jailer bring him something decent to eat!

"I must go now. You rest if you can. I shall see you sometime later." Ancel said.

"Good. It's about sodding time, too! I must close my eyes for awhile." Hamon yawned.

Ancel nodded, then turned around and grinned all the way to the cell door.

Mordrid and Alfred noticed him coming and were eager to hear what Ancel learned.

"That didn't take long?" Alfred mused.

"Well? What happened?" Mordrid demanded.

"We got him." Ancel grinned.

"What? You mean it worked?" Mordrid asked.

"Yes. Let's get two guards to cover your duties for a time. We must go to speak to the Sheriff." Ancel suggested.

The Sheriff was meeting with Guy in the Council Quarters. Guy was there to report on the interrogation of the prisoner.

"Well, what did you learn, Gis?" Nottingham asked.

"In truth… not very much." Guy muttered.

"Why is this sounding familiar? Reminds me of how you sounded three years ago when you lost the men and the gold to Locksley." the Sheriff said. He cleared his throat and continued. "Do you think he knows where Rhiannon's manor is by now?"

"There was no mention of that, but he did confess to planning her murder." Gisborne said.

"Well, that's all we need, really. That's all I need to hang the bastard. Good riddance to him!" Nottingham sneered. "However, I'm going to keep him in the dungeon for awhile. Let him sweat it out down there. Zeus knows it won't hurt him." he grinned.

"Indeed." Guy nodded.

Just then the sentry announced the arrival of three of his men. The Sheriff gestured for the guard to let them in. He was a little stunned to see who they were. He looked to Mordrid and Alfred.

"Who is manning the door of the dungeon?" he demanded.

"There are two men guarding the door, Milord. We need a word with you. We told them we'd return soon." Mordrid said.

"Right. What's this about?" he asked while scanning all three of their faces.

"It's about the prisoner, Milord." Ancel said.

Nottingham quirked his brow.

"We granted him access… to the bloke's cell." Alfred said as he nodded toward Ancel while looking into the Sheriff's eyes.

"You… what?"

"I gleaned some information I want to share with you, Milord. It's important." Ancel began.

"Alright. Let's have it, then." the Sheriff said while waving his fingers in a beckoning gesture.

"I think it's possible he might know the whereabouts of Lady Wordsworth's manor." Ancel said.

"Huh! Good thing he's locked up." Guy sneered.

"And why do you think that?" Nottingham prodded.

"He says he hasn't found it, but he made it sound like he's been talking to people who know her. Said he saw them at the market. A farmer and his wife. Busby is the name." Ancel said.

"Matheus? Or, his brother, Merek?" the Sheriff asked.

"Matheus. That's it. He mentioned the wife, too. He's taken a bit of a liking to her." Ancel shook his head.

"Right. I will have one of my men take that drawing of him to the Busbys. Although, I'm sure Adam said that Matheus was already questioned?" Nottingham added.

"I believe you're right, Cousin. I remember him saying that, too." Guy nodded in agreement.

"How did you leave it with him, Ancel?" Nottingham asked.

"Truthfully? He thinks I'm coming back to free him." Ancel said.

"And why would he think that?" the Sheriff demanded.

"Because I drugged him, Milord. He's currently having a nap." Ancel grinned.

"You… what?"

"Yes. A couple of drops of opium in a flask of ale." Ancel said.

The Sheriff's head swung in the direction of the other two men.

"Did you two know about this? Mordrid? Albert?"

"Yes, Milord." Mordrid nodded.

"I was hesitant, but, I agreed after Mordrid did. And, it's Alfre — "

"So… a few rules were broken, I see?" Nottingham said firmly.

"Yes, Milord." Ancel said.

"Did Joseph know about the flask you took in? Why did he agree to this? Only Gisborne and myself are permitted in there, besides the jailer." Nottingham pointed out.

"He did not know about the tainted ale in the flask, or that there was even a flask involved; and he agreed to it because… I told him you sent Ancel, Milord." Mordrid confessed.

"Why?"

"Because I knew it would work, Milord. I convinced Mordrid and Alfred to allow me access, and Mordrid spoke to Joseph about it. It was the only way. The prisoner would only toy with you and Sir Gisborne. It was the only way I could think of to break down his guard." Ancel said.

"What else did you learn then?"

"He said something odd at one point. Said the plan was still in place with or without my help. He still plans to murder your lady, and her servant, Rebeccah. He said so himself." Ancel said with a sigh.

"Interesting. Sounds like he's either planning an escape, or he's solicited another to carry out the murders for him." Nottingham said.

"As I said, he thinks I'm coming back for him. He shall be surprised. He could never escape without help, and he won't be getting it." Ancel said, firmly.

"Your methods could've had treacherous consequences, but, this was a fair move. From now on you shall follow the rules." Nottingham addressed all three of them. "If any of you get any ideas like this in the future you will present them to me before carrying them out. Understood?"

"Yes, Milord." Ancel said.

"Noted, Milord Sheriff." Mordrid nodded.

"Aye, Milord." Alfred agreed.

"Rule breaking doesn't generally bode well around here. The only reason it worked out this time is a little bit of brains, and a good dose of luck were involved. I'm satisfied with the results of your little stunt." Nottingham addressed all three men as he spoke. "But, consider this your warning to familiarize yourselves with the rules."

The men nodded in agreement.

"Good. Now, Mordrid and Albert, you two resume your posts. Ancel, well done. And, you shall stay away from the dungeon. You were successful, but, it's best you stay away from him now. Understood?"

"Yes, Milord. Duly noted." Ancel nodded.

"The fool thinks he's getting out of the dungeon. He must be drunk!" Nottingham chuckled. Then he straightened his expression. "Is he properly guarded from what you saw, Guy, and Ancel?" he asked both of the men.

"Yes, from what I could see." Guy said.

"I would agree." Ancel nodded.

"Yet, he said the plan was still in place. How? Did he mention an associate?"

"No. The only people he mentioned were the Busbys, Milord. He did make one comment that puzzled me, however." Ancel hinted.

"What was that?"

"An offhand comment about how escaping the dungeon could be accomplished by someone with half a brain. The man thinks he's smarter than everyone. He probably even thinks he's smarter than you. I disagree. He also lacks the strength and agility needed for such an impossible feat, so I'm not too concern — "

"Well, it would take a lot for him to achieve that. Do you think he was just trying to throw you off?"

"He had to be, Cousin. There's no way that round little bloke could do that." Gisborne added.

"Probably. And, it didn't take long for the effects of the tainted ale to take hold." Ancel said.

"We will leave you now, Milord and get back to our post." Mordrid said.

"One moment. I want you to talk to Joseph. Tell him there's a concern the homely fellow may attempt an escape. Jospeh and the rest of the guards are to remain vigilant."

"Very well, Milord." Mordrid nodded.

Isabelle was across the room near the entrance of the dressing room, with Meridwyn beside her, strongly encouraging her to leave the gown as is with no alterations to it, especially the colour. Rhiannon utilized the moment to speak with Madam Oberon.

"Mon cher, I've left your gown as the last to finish as I may need to measure you again closer to the time. Changes happen rapidly at this stage when one is with child. You understand? The gown needs to be perfect." Madam Oberon explained in hushed tones.

"I do understand, Madame. It makes perfect sense." she drew in a breath before changing topics. "I will be returning soon to you after I see the ladies out. I hope that will be alright? You've had many people to your quarters today."

"It's fine, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. You're going to change out of your clothes again, I presume?"

"Oui, Madame."

"Very well. Perhaps I should see what's going on over there. Isabelle looks a bit flustered."

"Yes. That's probably best. I understand Meridwyn's point of view, but, Isabelle is a little… reserved." Rhiannon said.

"Indeed." Madam Oberon nodded before taking leave of her to speak to the ladies.

After the three men had exited the room, the Sheriff turned to Guy and quirked his brow curiously.

"Interesting. Don't you think, Gis?" he asked.

"Aye. It's definitely that, Cousin. Are you beginning to doubt our newest recruit?"

"Not yet. I think we made the right decision. It's certainly worth being vigilant over, as we always would. Either he was telling the truth, or he is planning something to assist in the prisoner's escape." Nottingham mused.

"Then why tell you about it at all, Cousin?"

"He had no choice. He had to involve Mordrid and Albert, and then Jo — "

"Alfred. The other fellow's name is Alfred."

The Sheriff stared at him as his eyebrow shot north. He sighed.

"Right. Whatever. The point is my gut is trying to warn me of something. Either the prisoner is up to something on his own, and Ancel was truthful; or, he was attempting to throw me off by owning up to his actions. The more I think on it, though, the more I don't trust that homely fellow… " the Sheriff said. He walked toward the table to pour a goblet of water.

"Have you heard back from the Sheriff of Hampshire yet?"

"It's a little soon for that, Gis. It hasn't even been a sennight yet since I employed the man. Have you forgotten where the County of Hampshire is?" Nottingham narrowed his amber hazel eyes, suspiciously.

"Not that, Cousin. It was the timing I forgot rather than the location. It feels like… Ancel has been with us longer. He's just like one of us. Occasionally I forget how new he is because he's… good." Guy said.

"That's good to hear, Gis. That is my hope. He could easily be playing us and turn out to be another fake turncoat — like that one from Locksley's rabble. You recall? The one who promised to kill Locksley for me, but he went back to the sorry oaf, got injured during the… battle in the Village Square, then went mad and tried to rid the land of ladies!" the Sheriff exclaimed. He took a breath. "We cannot have that again, Gis. Keep an eye on him. And, I shouldn't need to mention it, but since you're in charge of the dungeon, communicate frequently with Joseph, and make sure the stumpy bastard's cell is duly inspected." he instructed then sipped the cool water from his goblet.

"I doubt he was able to smuggle anything in there, Cousin. Mordrid had him in custody, then I escorted him to the dung — "

"These fools have their ways, Gis. We've seen it before. Let us not forget your golden boy freed the worst of my prisoners after being so easily charmed. Anything can happen.

"We're going to go and speak to the Busbys. Ancel would have no way of knowing them, which is another thing that points to Ancel's honesty. I hope that is the case, but, if not, at least we will prevent another disaster like with the last prisoner who escaped. Whom, incidentally, talked me into freeing him with his false promise of killing Hood. Look where that got us? When things don't add up, it's best to be fully prepared." Nottingham said, firmly.

"Very well. Regarding your instructions for dungeon duty — consider it done, Cousin." Gisborne nodded.

"Good. There's a few coincidences about this matter." a beat. "I don't generally believe in coincidences." Nottingham said.

Later in the den of his private chambers that same evening, the Sheriff was sitting in a chair, looking toward the fire burning in the fireplace while sipping brandy. He was waiting on his lady and taking a moment to ease his thoughts. He held the goblet in his hand after taking a generous swig, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

He must have nodded off a few moments as he didn't hear her come in. He wouldn't share that with her, however.

"George?" she whispered.

He opened his eyes and noticed her standing before him. She was wrapped in her velvet dressing gown over her shift, her hair still wet from the bath she just emerged from.

"I do not sleep, my lady. Just resting my eyes." he remarked absently. "How was your soak?"

"It was good, however, it got a bit steamy and I needed to breathe fresh air. I'm feeling a bit queasy." she admitted.

"You well enough to walk?"

"Yes, my love." she said.

"Good. I know just the thing that will help that. Come." he said as he extended her his arm.

She took it from him and looked at him curiously. He led her out of the door grabbing his surcoat on the way out. They walked the length of the corridor and around a corner where he opened the door then guided her out to the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

"I think taking in some cool air for a few moments will help you, my angel. Don't worry. I have this to drape around you and help keep you warm." Nottingham said as he nodded to the surcoat draped over his free arm.

"It's perfect. Thank you." she looked up at him and smiled.

"We will be here for a few brief moments waving to the Villagers after our wedding ceremony, Rhiannon. I don't think I've mentioned that to you before."

"Oh, right. No, you didn't, but, I had wondered if we would need to do that. I seem to remember Sir Guy and Meridwyn commenting that they did that for a brief moment, as well."

"Yes. They did because he's my right hand man. We will need to spend a couple of extra moments. It's only a formality." he said.

Rhiannon began to shiver slightly. He took his cue and dutifully placed his surcoat around her shoulders.

"Is it helping any? Breathing in some cool air, I mean?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you, George. I will… be glad when this is over with. Honestly, at no time in my life have I ever been unwell as much as I have in this last year. It's disheartening at times."

"Most of it was due to the actions of other people, my angel. You were seriously harmed by them. This time it will resolve once the child is safely delivered, I'm sure."

"Yes. I've been thinking, though… " she murmured.

"What is it, Rhiannon?"

"Well, it's just that… well, I have never seen myself as a kind of… brood mare." she began while looking up at the moon. Then she turned toward him and looked up into his eyes. "Forgive me, my love. Perhaps I should have told you this when you asked for my hand? Maybe you want plenty of children, I don't know. You often mention children in the plural form, but, I just cannot be a Harriet Bus — "

"I don't see you that way, either, my lady. You're far too independent and adventurous for spending much of your life child rearing." he pauses a moment to look down and sigh before continuing. "I didn't give a singular thought to the possibility of fatherhood until there was you in my life. When I mention more than one child…" his voice trailed off. Immediately his thoughts were of his son. Their son. The one she doesn't know about.

"Go on, my love." Rhiannon coaxed.

"I was only thinking in terms of two of them… so our child may have a sibling. One sibling would be nice. Neither Guy nor myself had one. Thank Zeus we had each other. But, I've observed you and Robert and the close bond you have; and the way both of you wistfully speak of your late brother. I'd like that for our child, I think." he said.

"I wish there was a way we could prevent it from happening when we've had enough of it." she said softly.

"Well, there is. Except neither of us would like it. Can't imagine existing without touching one another, my angel. And it's not like we can stop the child from coming once it happens."

"There is, actually. But, it's dangerous. I've heard the rumours. The only women who go that route are courtesans and it involves seeking out someone like Mortianna, using risky herbs and potions. And it sometimes doesn't work and poses a number of complications." Rhiannon said.

His eyebrow shot north in response.

"I didn't realize that." he said simply.

"Ladies gossip. That's how I've heard about it, but, I don't know the truth of it. It wouldn't be my choice."

"Of course not, my lady." he said, hoping she would never entertain such a thought.

"I'm feeling better now, my love. Perhaps we should go back indoors? Now you're beginning to shiver."

"If you're certain the queasiness is gone."

"Yes. I feel much better." Rhiannon smiled.

She took his arm as he led her back to their chambers.

Guy and Lady Meridwyn were seated on chairs in front of the fireplace in their chambers . He was sipping mead while she was drinking watered down mulberry juice. He couldn't help but notice how distracted she seemed.

"You've been rather quiet, my lady. Is something troubling you?" he asked.

"Not really troubling, but, something is definitely off." she hinted.

"Are you unwell, Meridwyn? Why didn't you tell — "

"No, my love. It's nothing like that. I'm just curious… "

"About what?"

"Did you notice the wink Madam Birghiva gave Rhiannon when their introduction was made earlier today in the Council Quarters?"

"Well, yes. We all did — except for my cousin."

"They acted as if they know each other. How could that be, Guy?"

"I'm not sure, my lady. Did you ask her about it?"

"Yes. After we left Madam Oberon's chambers I had a moment to ask Rhiannon. She said they ran into each other at the market once. It still doesn't make sense. They would have no reason to speak to each other, even if they bumped into one another at the market."

"You're right. It's a little odd." he agreed.

"Yet, they seemed quite acquainted with one another, wouldn't you agree?"

"Perhaps — "

"There's no perhaps about it, Guy. They know each other somehow. It makes no sense."

"Maybe she was admiring something the Madam was wearing when they saw each other at the market?" Guy mused.

"Really, Guy? We both know that what we saw the Madam wear today would not be her regular garb. She hinted as much when she told us that Floria just happened to have the gown and cape on hand for her to wear to the meeting today. We all know how courtesans and their Madams generally dress, and today's pieces were not it." Meridwyn sighed.

"I suppose… "

"Oh, come now, Guy. You know this! Don't pretend you don't. You've dealt with them in the past." Meridwyn remarked with a quirk of her brow.

"Not very much, no. Let's not quarrel, my dearest. I think you're overthinking this."

"Whatever words they'd exchanged had nothing to do with Rhiannon complimenting the Madam's attire. And, they must have spoken before." a beat. "They know each other, Guy. Somehow. I know I'm right. I just wish Rhiannon would tell me the truth. I don't know why she wouldn't?"

"Maybe she didn't wish to get into it with Isabelle close by?" he wondered. He took a sip of mead then he remembered something.

When he arrived back to the castle after his mission in Portsmouth, he was reporting to his cousin in the Council Quarters. It was then Guy learned of the wedding being called off between George and Lady Rhiannon; then his cousin said something else. Guy remembered…

"Someone went to great lengths to try to trick me." Guy could see his cousin in his mind's eye, his voice gruff as he he told Guy the story of the mysterious courtesan appearing to him.

"Last night, I had a visit from… I do not know her name. But… she was the most ravishing creature I have ever seen."

Meridwyn was speaking to him, but Guy wasn't paying attention. There was something else George said that morning. What was it? He took a couple more thoughtful swallows of mead from his goblet, and then he remembered.

"Well, it turns out someone sent her to me. She said it was one of my Knights. I don't believe her, though."

Guy swallowed and stiffened. Was it Lady Rhiannon who sent Celestria to George? He tried to recall. There was more his cousin said to him after that. He took another sip and closed his eyes briefly, summoning the image of his cousin facing him, and he could remember more of his words…

"Indeed. It was like… she was handpicked. By someone who knows… me. Knows what I… like."

Guy remembered his cousin's face as he spoke the words. There was a brief pause after that, then the Sheriff's colour grew pallid and his eyes widened when he said, "I think I just figured out who hired the wench to come to me. Well… if that was happiness, I guess I had it."

He sighed. He'd heard of women doing that on occasion, to test the love of their men. Surely she wouldn't have, would she? George never mentioned this again. Guy sighed. It had to be. That was how Lady Rhiannon would know the Madam. She would have had to meet with the Madam to propose the deal and pay her.

"Guy? You haven't heard a word I've said." Meridwyn pouted.

"Forgive me, my dear. I was just thinking about something." he said.

"What was it? Do you know how they might possibly know each other?"

It wasn't his place to say. He was only speculating right now, anyway. So, he had to think of something else.

"I was just thinking how ravishing you would look in one of those revealing gowns — the kind that courtesans wear."

"For God's sake, Guy. You know I wouldn't dare. I'm a noblewoman, not a cons — "

"Of course not, my lady. Although, perhaps you could once — just for my eyes only. To be worn only here in these chambers." Guy said quietly with a salacious grin.

"Or, maybe I could wear it… in your manor in Nettlestone?" she hinted.

"Yes, but not for awhile. I'm in charge of the dungeon, as you know, and right now we might have a possible runner down there. It's the man we were looking for. We finally got him, but, he needs watching, my lady." Guy explained.

"Of course, he does." Meridwyn sighed.

"You know I have obligations, Meridwyn." Guy reminded her.

"Yes, but — "

"Hopefully we'll be able to visit there soon, dearest. Perhaps near Yule — "

"When it's freezing outside?"

"Imagine how cozy we would be inside by a roaring fire, my dear. Especially after I tear off the revealing gown?"

"If that's what you're after why couldn't I just wear my dressing gown — with nothing beneath it?" Meridwyn hinted.

"I like where you're going with that, my dear. But, maybe it's something to consider? Just for us, of course."

"I'd have to think about that, Guy. It would be a bit embarrassing being fitted for one of those kind of gowns, though."

"We would figure it out, in a most discreet manner, of course." a beat. "Drink up, my lady. It's time you let me ravish you, I believe."

She smiled and sipped more of the diluted mulberry juice.

Guy decided he would have to ask his cousin about this. Perhaps on their way to Matheus Busby's farm in the morning? He hated to pry, but, Meridwyn was astute. She knew something was up between Lady Rhiannon and the Madam, and Guy knew that Meridwyn would not just let it go. He must warn his cousin that Meridwyn was asking questions.

With Lady Rhiannon reclined on the bed reading her book, the Sheriff was seated in the den, sipping brandy and pondering the events of the day. Soft rain could be heard falling outside the window while torches flickered with light, ensconced upon the walls in the room. He wanted to think of his upcoming nuptials, instead there were intrusive thoughts of how and when to tell Rhiannon about their son, a concern about Luke and Floria ignoring his earlier warnings, and wondering what the stumpy bloke in the dungeon had up his sleeve. He was definitely planning something. The Sheriff didn't know what precisely, but he could feel it in his gut.

He took another sip of brandy and nearly spilled it as the tiny bell pealing on the wall startled him. It was getting late. Mortianna. She wasn't just summoning him to invite him for a cup of batwing tea. He sighed as he placed the goblet on a table. Then he headed through the heavy oak door, and down the long circular staircase to the depths of her lair.

She greeted him near the base of the stairs.

"What is it, Mortianna?" he asked with a quirk of his brow.

"Come. I've a couple of things to share with thee." she said.

He sighed and followed her into her apothecary, through a smoky purple haze emanating from her brewing cauldron. She indicated the table and he took a seat there. She seated herself across from him, looking into his eyes.

"I take it whatever you have to tell me is of vital importance since it's late?"

"Aye. Something I saw with my third eye vision, and something revealed in the bone dice runes, Milord."

"The runes… " he muttered.

"The blood and the runes do not lie. I've told you this before." she said, simply.

"Right. Tell me about the vision. Is it the same one you warned me of before?" Nottingham asked with a curious quirk of his brow.

"Indeed. I could see fire, and Lady Rhiannon was there. There was another woman with her whom I don't recognize. I could only see the back of her. I didn't recognize the surroundings. Your lady appeared angry and was poised to fight in some way." Mortianna said.

"Interesting. Sounds just like her. However, this is a problem." he sighed.

"Indeed."

"And what of what you saw in the runes, Madam?"

"A man attempting to stop your wedding, right at the time of the ceremony. There were a couple of others with him, but he was the chief complainant, Milord."

"Excuse me? What! Did he give a reason? A former beau of my lady, perhaps?" Nottingham asked, his eyes narrowed with ire.

"I didn't get that far, but, I get the sense he was never involved with Lady Rhiannon. It didn't seem to be about her, anyway." Mortianna said.

"Why do you think that?"

"He is much older than she. He is older than you, by quite a bit from what I saw."

"This is preposterous!" he exclaimed gruffly.

"Indeed. And now, you've been forwarned. You can prepare accordingly."

"Were you able to tell the sequence of events?"

"No. That, I cannot say. You needn't be too concerned about the second vision, anyway. Your upcoming nuptials are supported by everyone in the land. Especially by those who matter: the Bishop. Prince John." the witch reminded him.

"Indeed. I will step up the number of my men guarding the castle on that day." he vowed.

"A wise move, Milord." she nodded.

"Was there anything more specific you can recall about the vision with the fire? Anything about the other woman with her, or anything identifiable about the location?" he asked pointedly.

"I don't recognize the setting. It appears to be inside of someone's home."

"Could the other woman with her be Lady Meridwyn, or Lady Isabelle?"

"No. All I saw was the back of her for a very brief moment. She had dark hair from what I could tell."

"Rebeccah. That sounds like it could be Rhiannon's lady servant, Rebeccah. It must be Rhiannon's manor that is burning in the vision!" the Sheriff said while his eyes widened.

"I couldn't say for certain, my child. I don't know the place, nor who is with her. Heed my words and do with them what ye will. I can tell ye she is present with ye in the second vision — when the wedding ceremony is rudely interrupted. I can't say when this fire that puts her in danger takes place, however. There was nothing more to see." Mortianna explained.

"I see. Is there anything else to tell me?"

"Just… keep her safe."

"Always, Madam. You can bet on that." he assured her.