Lady Thief

by Rizzo Rosko

  “My mother died giving birth to me as well,” she said, William’s honesty prompting her to reveal her own secrets. “Though he never spoke of it, I always felt that my father placed the blame on me. He used her death to excuse his gambling habits.”

  William rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You believe Blaise places blame on me for the death of his mother?”

  She leaned against the warmth of his chest, listening to the beating of his heart within. Such a soothing sound. She could drift off to sleep there. “‘Tis possible. You blame yourself for her actions, and I have seen him with Robert. Perhaps Robert swayed Blaise’s thoughts the way he did with Alice.” Just as William always feared he would.

  A thought suddenly occurred to her. Perhaps he was also the reason for Blaise’s cruelty towards her. What if Robert had no desire to see the boy who was his child through blood marry and forget that he existed?

  Marianne put the thought away for later. Right now she would focus on her time with her husband. “If Blaise was squired with Sir Ironside, then he must have just completed that training and only recently come under Robert’s influence.”

  William sighed. “I had hoped adulthood would sharpen his mind against such an attack. It seems I was mistaken.”

  Marianne took his hand into hers. ‘Twas cold when she kissed it. “There is still time. He is your son, regardless of blood. You cared for him. And I must forgive him if there is to ever be peace, then ask for his forgiveness in return.”

  William stroked her red hair, the action gentle and tender. Then he wrapped his large fingers around her smaller wrists, his grip tight and unyielding. Marianne was startled when she struggled and he refused to release her. He pressed her wrists into the cold wall behind her.

  The sudden tightening in his eyes that formed from the calm waters they once were frightened her. “What are you—?”

  “I want you to make a promise.”

  She blinked. His blue eyes bore into her own and she knew whatever he wished to say would not wait. “Very well.”

  “I do not believe in striking the one who shares my bed, and as my wife I expect the same from you.”

  The hand she had slapped him with tingled again, and it had nothing to do with the tightness of his grip. Guiltily, she turned her face away.

  He released one of her wrists and lifted her chin, the tenderness in his touch returning.

  Marianne took a breath to calm her beating heart and nodded. Her eyes pricked with stinging tears. “I promise. I am sorry.”

  He released her other wrist and cupped her cheeks. “Was that so difficult?” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Remember, I have seen you hold your temper in an effort to vex me. I know your capabilities.”

  She laughed and wiped her eyes, looking up at him, she wished to tell him more of herself. “I never had a nurse.”

  His eyebrows flew up at her words. “Nay?”

  She shook her head. “‘Tis no excuse for my behavior, but I never had a nurse to teach me to be a lady. Everything I know I learned from Reggie.”

  “Reggie?”

  She nodded and continued to wipe the cold tears from her cheeks. “My brother, Reginald. He tried to teach me as much as he could about running a household—”

  William nodded. “I recall you spoke of them. Their graves.” He spoke the last part awkwardly then cleared his throat. “I would say your brother succeeded in his teachings with the way you have the servants scampering about.”

  She laughed. “Aye, but whatever manners I have came from him. As hard as he tried he could not teach me to embroider anything. Instead I learned his writing and colorful language.”

  William smiled. “‘Tis believable that a lady kidnapper would need to know such things to gather her men and offer them payment for taking a man hostage.”

  “Aye, though I did not know nearly enough, seeing as they kidnapped the wrong Lord Gray.”

  He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. Marianne leaned into the touch, a need rising for him at that unexplainable moment, but ‘twould have to wait.

  “It would seem, my dear, that now we have no secrets from each other.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  After speaking with her husband, Marianne left the stables and immediately sought out Blaise. She found him at the mews, idly stroking a sparrow hawk perched on his gloved hand.

  She eyed the bird cautiously and waited for him to return the creature to its weathering space before going to him. Though she doubted he would send the animal after her, she did not wish to take the chance.

  However, what she was about to do seemed so much more frightening.

  But she would do it. She would have courage and make peace for her husband, herself, and Blaise. No more brawling.

  When he finished with the bird, his eyes spotted her and hardened. “Come to shout more obscene lies at me already? I assumed you grew tired for the night and wished to wait until morn.”

  Marianne clenched her jaw. Calm. Peace. She would not provoke him with the admission that her claim that he was not of William’s blood was no lie.

  She was thankful William agreed to let her do this on her own. If he had stood behind her then Blaise would think the apology was being forced. Still, she could not ignore the prickling at the back of her neck.

  Straightening her back and calming her nerves, she said what she came to say. “Nay, I have come to offer my apologies.”

  Marianne held her hands calmly in front of her, thought sweet, serene thoughts, and eyed him with no malice.

  His open-mouthed expression bathed her in satisfaction. He stepped back and wavered, and she was thankful again that she waited until he put the little hawk back on its perch before apologizing.

  His face nearly brought Marianne to laughter. She wished she had thought to apologize to him sooner.

  Blaise righted himself, anger and suspicion cascading from his eyes like a strong waterfall. “Do ye think me a fool? What is this nonsense?”

  She shook her head, no hint of a smile on her face. “‘Tis not nonsense, though if you wish to believe ‘tis so then you have the right. ‘Twas wrong for me to have said what I did. And I should not have attempted to claw your eyes on the day of our meeting.”

  What else could she say about herself that would make her apology sound sincere? She put a finger on her chin in thought. “‘Twas most unladylike of me.”

  Blaise had his mouth open again. She waited for him to say something in return, though she doubted he would apologize for his behavior. At least not until he was certain she was not making a fool of him.

  A sound came from his throat. His lips moved, but he seemed unable to properly respond.

  Marianne could not have been more delighted, and she congratulated herself on hiding her joy. This had been a much easier task than she thought. “I shall accept your apology in return, and bid you good day now as I need to oversee the cooks do not burn the pheasant and leek pie again.”

  With that, she spun on her heel and left him standing there. Only when her back was turned did she allow herself to smile at the silly face he made.

  ***

  Marianne set out to make good on her word to control her temper.

  William was correct, ‘twas much easier than what even she expected since all the servants were now alive with bustle and work.

  There was no need to shout for someone to finish a task they ignored since they all seemed to have learned their lessons. And if she had reason to a foul temper, she found that when inhaling and exhaling deeply was a great help. All that was left was for Marianne was to stand watch and ensure their behavior remained productive.

  That, and brood over the fact that William’s love for Alice was much stronger than anything he could ever give to her.

  She had fooled herself into thinking otherwise when he performed his husbandly duties. Likely because of how well, and how often, he performed them.

  ‘Twas not merely a duty to her, though. Not if she was h
onest with herself. Marianne adored the special attention he bestowed upon her when they were alone. She looked forward to it whenever William was out of sight, sighing and longing for night to come quicker so he would be with her. She especially enjoyed how he held and kissed her, before, during, and afterwards.

  Though the feeling of bare skin on skin was a delight that stirred the heat in her belly, Marianne was always left saddened when they finished climbing to that exquisite, pleasurable high. The truth of her situation always returned to her in those moments.

  William loved Alice. He loved her enough to raise a child not his own. Just because he made Marianne’s flesh ache at night, and stroked her tenderly as she drifted to sleep, did not change that.

  As the days turned into weeks Marianne found the courage to ask Adam what the former mistress of Graystone had looked like.

  The man had smiled, as though the memory of her was a pleasure to be recalled.

  “Not that my own thoughts on the matter are of any importance, but she was a kind, lovely sort. Her voice as gentle as she, with hair the color of sunshine.”

  The poetic description did naught for her mood.

  Of all things, the woman had been dainty and beautiful. Marianne should feel ashamed for wishing to compete with a woman long dead, but she could not stop the bitterness from swelling.

  At least she had an understanding with her husband. A friendship, even. ‘Twas much more than most would ever have, and all because they had finally spoken in the stables.

  There was only one tiny detail left unattended.

  William had been almost correct when he said there were no secrets between them. Marianne still held a few of her own. The first being that she had fallen in love with him, and the second, that since their talk in the stables those weeks ago, Marianne became aware that she was late for her monthly course.

  She was never late.

  No matter. ‘Twould not be a secret she kept for long. The moment she was sure of her condition she would tell William. Until then she had no wish to give him false hopes.

  Marianne sighed and put away her embroidery, something she found little skill in since she never had a mother or nurse to teach it to her. Reggie, despite his best efforts, could never teach her the finer points of it either.

  “Olma, come with me while I see my horse?”

  Olma looked up from her own work, stood and bobbed. “Aye, milady.”

  “Thank you.”

  ‘Twas another new habit of hers, offering her thanks and praise to the servants who most deserved it. Something she’d neglected when she first entered the Graystone castle.

  Marianne stood and allowed Olma to fetch her cloak. Outside of her chamber stood James, sniffling miserably with cold.

  Marianne eyed his red nose and squinting, watery eyes with pity. Though the air outside was becoming more and more chilled, and other serfs and men-at-arms sneezing violently, she could not help but think his malady was her doing.

  Having him chase her about the castle and out in the cold those many times was surely the cause.

  “I suppose ‘twould do no good to offer you the chance to stay in the great hall by the fire?”

  He shook his head and sneezed, turning his head so that the sneeze pointed away from her and then sniffing loudly. “Nay, bilady. I hab my orders.”

  Why did William still bother with having her followed like this? She was no longer at risk to flee the castle at any small provocation.

  “Olma, you may tend to him while I visit Mare. I will not be long so there is no point in having you both so near.”

  Marianne had finally settled with calling the old mare Mare when it became apparent it was the only name to which the horse answered.

  Olma bobbed, smiling under her headdress as she and James accompanied Marianne through the corridors and outside. The air was dry and cold, piercing and prickling her cheeks. Her breath clouded in the air.

  She looked up at the gray sky, the clouds made a low ceiling over her head. “We shall have snow tonight I think.”

  She ignored James’ groan at her declaration and proceeded to the stables. As was custom, James stood outside the doors while Marianne went in.

  “I will not be long.” She assured them when she shut the door. The air was less chilled, but Marianne kept her cloak about her shoulders, and the familiar scent of horses and hay was welcome.

  Not a man was in the stable but Archer. He stopped brushing Benedict when his eyes found her. He smiled and bowed. “Milady.”

  Happiness and relief filled her at the sight of him and not Robert. Just because she apologized to Blaise did not mean she owed anything to Robert for what he had done to William.

  Every time she went to visit Mare and found that horrible servant there she had difficulty holding her tongue. Though that did not explain the absence of the others.

  “Where are the other grooms?”

  Archer laughed, still brushing benedict’s dark coat to a gleaming shine. “chilled grooms tend to run and find a fire for several moments when they believe no one shall catch them.”

  She smiled and stepped forth. “And why have you not gone?”

  He moved around to brush the other side of the proud stud. “Someone needs to keep the beasts from freezing.”

  “Well, have no fear. They will return to their posts when I find a way of punishing them without placing blame on you for telling their secret.”

  Archer chuckled.

  Marianne moved in a straight line towards Mare and patted her large nose affectionately.

  “Has she been fed today?”

  Though Archer continued to brush Benedict with his back to her, she could detect the grin in his voice. “Aye, milady, though if you ask her she will disagree with me.”

  He stopped his brushing and threw a blanket over Benedict’s dark coat to ward off the chill seeping into the stables.

  “Enjoys her oats a little much, that one.”

  Marianne eyed her swollen belly.

  Though Mare’s large stomach had naught to do with Marianne’s possible condition, she found herself touching her own belly and wondering how big she would get.

  “I suppose I would enjoy my oats if I had been starved so the dogs could have the meat off my back when I died.” She replied, and Mare nudged her again. Marianne grabbed a generous handful of grass and held it out for her.

  Archer shook his head. “You are too softhearted, milady. Just be cautious not to feed her very much. Soon she will have to rely on the winter storage.”

  Marianne sighed. “You are right.” And she allowed Mare to take one more bite before removing the hay from under her nose.

  “Do you think her fit for a ride?”

  She wished it could be so, herself on Mare, William riding beside her on Benedict, pleasant conversation and time alone when she told him of her pregnancy. If she indeed was pregnant.

  Archer shook his head, disappointing her. “Nay. Perhaps in the spring when she has had more time to gather more than fat.”

  The sound of James’s sneezing outside reminded her of her promise not to be long, but Marianne had trouble leaving.

  Mare had become special to her. Marianne had hoped to have the comforting animal with her when she rode with William.

  She would just have to choose another horse to ride when she told William the news. Waiting until spring would be much too long. By then he was certain to notice her filling belly and widening waist.

  The thought brought a smile to her lips. William was a wonderful father to Blaise. He would enjoy having another child.

  Her own father had been a questionable man in the end, but at least at Graystone Marianne and her child would have a good home.

  She looked at Archer who had taken a seat on a stool to inspect Benedict’s legs, and she thought of his family. “When will Robert come to relieve you of your post?”

  “Soon, milady.”

  “How soon?”

  He looked at her. “In a few minutes I
should think.”

  “Go to your family then, you have worked hard and should enjoy an early night.

  His face twisted in horror at the idea. “I could not leave you here to tend the horses.” Even as he said it he stood up. Had he not known her so well he would have done no such thing, she was sure.

  Marianne smiled and put her nose in the air. “I am telling you to go to your woman and retire to bed before you catch a chill like poor James.”

  James outside sneezed violently three times the second the words left her lips.

  She smiled at Archer, as if that alone had won her the argument. “I shall not do any chores. I will just keep them company until Robert arrives. I insist.”

  “Thank you, milady.” Archer said, moving towards the doors. He looked at her once more before opening them enough to let himself out.

  He spoke to James briefly outside before his voice grew too soft to hear.

  Marianne smiled and picked up the dried grass she had been feeding to Mare. One more handful would not harm anything.

  Feeding the horse became her favorite pastime since she could no longer count on Olma to give Marianne her full attention. Not since the girl became interested in James.

  What would it be like to openly admire and love William like Olma did with James?

  It did not matter. William promised her that his cousin, Lady Anne, would be coming to visit. And Marianne could speak with someone who could respond to her and gossip freely.

  She was so caught up with her thoughts that when a fresh swirl of cold winds came over her, she dropped the hay in startled shock.

  Marianne turned, Robert stood at the now closed doors.

  Her eyes narrowed at his hateful form. “Enter more quickly next time,” She said, focusing all her attention on Mare. “The horses do not need the cold.”

  “Aye, milady,” he stepped into the relative warmth of the stable, eyes darting about. “Where has Archer gone off to?”

  “I sent him to his wife and child for the night.” She looked at him, and her eyes were drawn to his right hand.

  He stood with his arm hanging at a slight angle. His thumb twisting to mask the space where his two fingers used to be. She now knew what he hid from her, and she shivered.