Her discomfort could have nothing to do with the strong arm curling around her waist from behind as they started off with a great leap. Will’s solid chest and legs provided a comfortable and safe chair as they blazed through the woods. But he was so very warm. And large.

When he ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch, Marian was forced to do so as well, leaning closer to the destrier’s flowing mane. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been required to ride pillion, and certainly never in this pell-mell fashion through the woods.

She closed her eyes and clung to the saddle’s pommel.

Moments later, they reached the road, where Marian’s travel wagons and escort remained. The horse had barely stopped when Will dismounted and reached up to lift her down, setting her, weak-kneed, near her wagon. It took only a moment to ascertain that the outlaws had taken nothing from her caravan.

“Though I don’t expect them to return, please accept our escort to Ludlow, my lady,” Will said formally. He opened the door of her wagon.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” she said, climbing in.

As she settled in her seat and the wagons rumbled off, now flanked by the sheriff ’s men as well as her own men-at-arms, Marian had much to contemplate. Least of which was whether Robin had known it was her party traveling through Sherwood, and had never intended on stealing anything from her in the first place.

Or had it merely been happenstance that Robin had recognized her, and had thus called off his men?

Or had the sheriff arrived in time to prevent the outlaws from making off with her belongings?

The next time she saw Robin-for she would certainly see him again, she’d make certain of it-she would have words with him. And try to find a way to help him while she spied on Prince John.

And mayhap . . . she might allow him to kiss her again.