Trying to break the trance, Marian turned around and leaned with her back against the door. Eyes now closed, she could feel every sense in her body screaming — her heart was pounding in her ears, throbbing with an emotional flood that would not stay barricaded.
All she could see was him — his light brown hair, tousled and longer than before. The scruffy shadow covering his jaw. His green eyes, mischievous as ever. And that smirk! That bothered her more than ever. How dare he arrive so! Like nothing had changed!
It was an eternity since last they met. So much had changed. And yet, there he had stood, just on the other side of the wood, much the same as ever.
"Marian?" The interruption made Marian start as her consciousness came back to the little room. Her father looked at her with worried eyes. "Are you alright?"
It took all her strength to give a weak smile. "Yes, fine, thank you. It's just a slight headache. I — I think I'll retire for tonight."
It was as weak an excuse as her smile, but it was all she could do. Before her father could ask anything more, Marian raced up to her own bedchamber.
She was angry at herself for her reaction. After all this time, did he really have such a power over her? Surely she had conquered this foolishness long ago.
Pacing around the room, she found herself looking out the window. The very spot where it had ended, in fact. Robin had hoisted himself up to that ledge so many times that it had become second nature to both of them, his being so close. That time was different — there was nothing natural about it. He had come to say goodbye, to leave on the Crusades. Marian was sure she had done away with any girlish notions she may have had about him that very hour. She had convinced herself that it didn't matter what happened to him.
And yet, how many times had she unwillingly visualized this very moment! He would finally return from the Holy Lands, and she would just be able to see that he was alright.
A shuddering gasp escaped her lips. He was home! He was safe! How much she wanted to run to him, feel his embrace, breathe him in, to be sure of him, and reassured of his presence.
No! Marian quickly turned away from the window and paced down the other side of the room. No, she was stronger than this! Of course, it was natural to be concerned for a friend of her father's. And she couldn't deny that they had shared a close friendship as children, growing up in Nottingham. And perhaps they had been betrothed, but that was a childish admiration when neither of them knew any better. It was ages ago, and that's how she would remember it.
She would harden herself against any sentimental memories. Besides, his arrogance left much to be desired. The foolish boy. He returned to England with all the pomp and circumstance of King Richard himself! He would soon realize the gravity of Nottingham's situation, and how crucial it was to lay low, to work within the system. Perhaps he thought that coming from the war, nothing could scathe him here at home.
Foolish boy. Foolish, arrogant, dear Robin...