by Krissy V
“Mary.” My father draws me out of my reflection. “I’ve heard rumors about your uncle since he made his home in the center of Nottingham. I don’t know how true those rumors are—it’s been so long since I last saw him. But you know what I’ve taught you. You must use those skills if you need to.” Again my father stops and breathes deeply.
I understand what he means. He’s talking about the combat skills I’ve been trained in since childhood. I’m not the insipid little girl many believe me to be. I have a deadlier side that can destroy if it needs to. I’d rather keep that part of me hidden, though. I don’t want to have to unleash it unless absolutely necessary.
“I’m sure my uncle won’t hurt me,” I reassure my father in what I know, and finally accept, are his last few minutes on this earth.
“Be careful, Mary.” My father’s body is wracked in pain as he coughs again. He clutches his chest and struggles for breath. “Please.” His face screws up in agony, pale and sunken in. His eyes are dark. This is no longer the man I grew up worshiping.
“Please, Daddy, let me get a doctor.”
“No.” A simple word is a struggle now. “Promise me.”
“I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll look after myself and make sure your legacy is continued. You have my word. Daddy, please.” I’m holding tightly to my father now. He’s slipping away from me, and I know I have to let him go.
“I love you, Mary.” The room falls silent with his last words.
His chest rises and falls one final time before it stills. My father is dead. The only man I’ve ever loved or trusted. I’m twenty-one years old, and I now have to find my way in a world that beyond these four walls scares the life out of me.
Chapter One
Mary
Under the motorcycle helmet, nobody can tell I’m a woman, especially as I’m dressed in men’s leathers, and my breasts are bound so tightly they aren’t discernible. It’s a necessity my father’s valet and I decided upon in order to get us to my uncle’s home safely.
It’s been a week since my father’s death. His funeral has taken place, and I can no longer delay the inevitable, not when there are rumors of men coming for me, who want to take over the Nottingham Mafia. I need to be under my uncle’s protection to ward against this, so going to live with him is the only option.
My father didn’t have a house in the city—we lived in the countryside. So at the moment, I’m riding pillion on the back of the valet’s bike, and we’re speeding through Sherwood Forest toward Nottingham city. The route we’ve taken is not a frequently used one. After he’s delivered me safely to my uncle, the valet will be taking early retirement, thanks to a fabulous legacy left to him in my father’s will. The man was with my father for many years and proved his loyalty, so I couldn’t blame him from wanting to spend time with his family now. I’ll miss him, though.
“Hold tight, Mary,” the valet orders.
“I am,” I reply, but I fear the message is lost in the wind. We aren’t using a communication device.
“There are rumors of outlaws in these parts so keep a look-out.”
“Will do.” I pat his shoulder this time to let him know I’ve heard.
We only travel a few meters more when three men, wearing masks and holding swords in front of them, step out from behind the trees and block the road. My father’s valet revs the engine as if he’s going to put his foot down and go faster, but then deciding against it, he slows the bike to a halt.
I guess it’s time to reveal the training my father gave me. Reaching over to the side, I surreptitiously pull the two sharp blades I hid earlier in the leather of my trousers. I push down on the foot pedal of the bike to launch myself with a somersault into the air. Spinning quickly, I land with both feet planted firmly on the tarmac and run for the closest man to me. Most of my belongings are being brought separately in a van, but I have my mother’s jewelry with me, and I refuse to let outlaws take it from me. It’s all I have left of her.
The man is skilled with his sword, but he’s not as well-trained as me. I’ve been taught to fight since I was five years old. It was the only way my father could ensure I’d be able to protect myself. He had his best champion fighter sworn to secrecy, and then every day after school, I’d spend two hours learning martial arts and other forms of combat. I took to it like a duck to water. Eventually I became more skilled than my tutor, and that’s when my father knew I’d be able to take care of myself when needed. I’ve always preferred fighting with a sword or knives.
Feigning to the left, I sweep a foot out and the man trips over it. He stumbles forward, dropping his weapon, and bangs his head straight into a tree. He slumps down on the ground, unmoving. One down, two to go. I see the valet is already fighting with one of the other men. He’s no ordinary valet, as you may have guessed, so I know he doesn’t need any help. When the third man heads for me with his sword drawn, my decision to engage with him is made. He’s much stronger than the first man I fought, though. That’s always my disadvantage in any battle. I don’t have the brute force to stop a man dead. I have to rely on the speed that comes from my size. Twisting around, I flick the knives through the air, but my opponent blocks them.
“You don’t want to fight with me.” His deep voice reverberates through the helmet I’m still wearing—it sounds familiar. “Come on, boy, you know you can’t win. You got lucky with one man. Don’t push it too far. All we want is a little donation from you in exchange for a safe passage through Sherwood.”
I can’t shake off the feeling I know the person I’m fighting, and realization dawns when he makes a move to attack me that I’ve only ever seen from an opponent once before. I swiftly counter it, sending the man flat on his back on the ground.
“Shit.” The other man, I’d knocked out earlier, has come to and is starting to reach for his sword.
I drop my knives to the ground and quickly remove my helmet, revealing my true identity. The man whose voice I was sure I recognized starts to laugh, and everyone around us stops.
“Hello, Mary,” the man chuckles. “I thought by now I would have been able to beat you in a fight.”
“Seems not,” I return the banter as I watch him remove his mask and reveal the face of my childhood friend. “Hello, Finch.”
The valet appears at my side while the other two outlaws gather beside Finch and help him up onto his feet.
“Should we stop attacking them now?” one of them asks—the big brute who’d been fighting the valet.
“Yes, Mary is a friend.”
“A rich friend?” the other man inquires with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes,” Finch replies, pulling me into a warm embrace. I’ve known him since I was a little girl. He’s a couple of years older than me. His parents died when he was young, and he was given to my father for protection and guidance. We became best friends and there was a time when I dreamed we’d eventually marry, but then one day, about five years ago, he just disappeared. I’ve not seen him again until this very moment. “Mary, is the daughter of the late alpha.”
“The new one’s niece?” the man who I’d sent flying into the tree ask and eyes me warily.
“She’s not the enemy, Will.” Finch frowns at his companion, and I sense an underlying tension between them.
“She’s the sheriff’s niece—of course she is the enemy.”
“Grow up, knucklehead. You’re just pissed at her because she bettered you.”
“It’s no different from watching her send you flat on your back.” The two men banter with each other, and I pretend to stifle a yawn.
“I’m too good a fighter for either of you, admit it. To be honest, I’m more concerned with your comments about me being the enemy. What’s going on?”
“You may be the better fighter, but unfortunately, there’s a lot you don’t know. Come…” Finch beckons me over to a log where we sit side by side.
“Tell me. Please,” I request as the other men sit on the ground in front of us.
&n
bsp; “Your father had been failing in health for a long time. He kept it hidden from you for as long as he could. It’s one of the reasons I left the estate. We didn’t see eye to eye when he started handing more and more power over to your uncle, but the alternative was I marry you and take on the business. You were only eighteen, and the feelings between us had never developed in that way. I didn’t want to make a mistake that would leave us both miserable.” He looks at me for confirmation, and I nod my head. I’ve only ever considered him to be a close friend, nothing more. Finch continues, “Your uncle has been gradually destroying the legacy your father built up: overcharging for protection and collecting on debts that don’t exist. The people of Nottingham are suffering as a result. There are a lot of starving children, and homelessness has increased dramatically. I decided to oppose your uncle, and my friends and I have formed a band of men who steal from the rich and give back to the poor. It’s the only way to help everyone survive.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing from Finch. It can’t be true. It’s not possible. Firstly, my father would never have lied to me—it was part of a pact we made with each other, and secondly, he would’ve known if my uncle was doing all this. I push myself up from the log and start to pace.
“You’re lying. My father wouldn’t have let this happen.”
“He didn’t live in the city, Mary. He didn’t see the truth. I know if he had, he’d have stopped it, but he needed to look after you, first and foremost. He was a dying man for many years before the cancer finally got to him.”
I place my head in my hands and let out an exasperated sigh—it echoes around the silent woods. I don’t want to admit it, but I have no choice.
“You’re right, Finch. He was worried about my uncle looking after me. I think he did suspect. He just couldn’t do anything about it toward the end.”
My father’s dying pleas all begin to make sense to me now.
“I’m sorry, Mary. I’ve wanted to come and check on you all these years, but I’m an outlaw, and I feared the trouble it would get you into.”
“Don’t be sorry. It sounds as though you’ve been doing a good thing. I’m going to find out as much as I can about what you’re saying. If my uncle is destroying my father’s legacy, I’ll make sure he stops what he’s doing. He’s only the caretaker of the title, Sheriff of Nottingham, after all.”
“Unless he gets an heir,” Finch adds.
“Which won’t happen as his first wife is barren,” my father’s valet responds. “The rules of progression state it can only be a male heir from a first marriage. Your uncle has been trying for numerous years but still doesn’t have a son.”
“A good thing then.” I walk over to the bike and remove the bag containing my mother’s jewelry. I hand it to Finch as the valet gets to his feet.
“Miss Mary?”
Finch looks into the bag.
“I can’t take this, Mary.”
“If it’s going to help feed someone, you can.”
“Finch, company!” A loud shout comes from the trees, and I look up trying to pinpoint where the person shouting is situated, but they’re incredibly well hidden. “It’s Osbourne.”
“Osbourne? He’s the man I’m supposed to be meeting,” I inform Finch.
“Your uncle’s right-hand man. He comes from a noble family in mafia terms but doesn’t have any wealth. He was sent to your uncle as a child to learn the ways of running a business. Be careful of him, Mary. He’s dangerous, incredibly so.”
“Noted.”
“Finch, we need to go,” the voice comes again, and I still can’t see where it originates from.
“You’ll never see where he’s hidden. Don’t even try.” Finch laughs. Picking up his sword, he hands the bag with the jewelry to Will, who also collects my knives. He then strides confidently over to his motorbike and hops on before starting it. “Remember, Mary, don’t trust Osbourne and throw the leathers away, I’ll bring you a new set, in case you ever need to use them.”
“Finch,” I call after him in frustration as he and his friends disappear into the forest with everything except my virtue and my father’s valet. Anyone approaching, including the mysterious Osbourne, would think we’ve been robbed.
The valet and I stand dumbstruck until a large Bentley pulls up next to us. The window winds down, and the man inside takes my breath away. He’s more handsome than any man I’ve ever seen before. Please don’t let this be Osbourne because I’m in big trouble if he is. The stranger looks at both of us, up and down. I can see the moment when he recognizes my father’s valet, and a look of surprise crosses his face when he realizes my identity.
He gets out of the car and lowers his head in respect.
“Mary?” he greets me, his voice is like smooth velvet to my ears
“Yes,” I reply curtly. “And you are?”
“Osbourne.” He looks me up and down again, his pupils dilating to the color of the darkest night. “Not how I expected to meet you. Have you been walking to Nottingham?”
“Do I look like I was walking? We were ambushed. My jewelry and our bike were stolen by men with swords.”
Osbourne cocks his head but doesn’t say anything. He looks around the area we’re standing in before returning his intense stare toward me, pinning me to the spot.
“Maybe if you’d been traveling more as a lady, less as a boy, and with suitable protection, this wouldn’t have happened. I have to admire them for using swords, though. They’re a particular favorite weapon of mine. I enjoy getting up close and personal in a fight,” he replies as he turns and makes his way back to the car.
I stand there dumbfounded.
Finally, I manage to find my voice and mutter, “Asshole.”
Chapter Two
Mary
I’ve been living at my uncle’s house for three months now and have seen the damage he’s done to the city of Nottingham for myself. There’s little I can do about it, though. I’ve been thrown into the mundane task of running his household after he sent his wife abroad to France and moved his mistress in.
The newly installed concubine is pregnant and trying to throw her weight around, but my uncle has told her in no uncertain terms she is nothing but a live-in whore and I’m his blood relation and therefore in charge. It made my day when he said it. However, that same evening everything quickly turned to drama when I was forced to help rescue one of Finch’s men from certain execution after he’d been caught on a raid. It made me think a lot about my friend and the dangers he faces. Maybe we should risk our friendship, get married, and have children to save Nottingham. Perhaps I’ll suggest it to him next time I see him and see what he says.
“Mary,” my uncle storms into the room with his lap dog, sorry, right-hand man, Osbourne in tow. Since our first meeting, relations between us haven’t improved much. It seems Osbourne is little more than a servant, and one of minimal intelligence as far as I can tell from the few conversations I’ve had with him. His looks are the only thing that make him barely tolerable.
“Uncle.” I stand to greet him warmly, even though I want to throttle him for ruining my father’s hard work. “Is everything ok?”
“Splendid. I have some great news for you.”
“News?” I tilt my head inquisitively as my uncle pours himself and Osbourne a glass of whiskey from a decanter on the carved oak sideboard.
“Yes, you’re to be married today.”
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. My legs wobble, and I fall back into the chair. Married? Me? What?
“I...I don’t understand.” I finally manage to get a few words out.
“You don’t need to understand. You just need to obey me.”
“Obey you?” I’m beginning to sound like I’ve lost my brain. Nothing makes sense, and I’m sure I look gormless, staring at my uncle.
“I thought you were more intelligent than this, Mary. Your father certainly led me to believe you were. I’m starting to think that he was lying to
me.” My uncle takes a seat on a chair next to me while Osbourne stands at his side like a sentry guard.
“I’m sorry, uncle. It’s just a bit of a shock. I thought I might have more notice, maybe even meet my potential husband before the wedding.”
“Why?” My uncle stares at me like I’m stupid. “You’ve known what’s expected of you since you were born. If you were a boy, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation, but you’re a girl. You need to marry and get started on producing an heir to the title before anyone else tries to come forward with a claim and ruin all our hard work.”
I slink farther back into my chair. I’ve known since I was young that I’d need to marry to keep the title and the power that goes with it in the immediate family, but I’m still mourning my father, and I’ve always hoped I’d marry a man I at least like. The thought of marrying Finch becomes an even more attractive proposition.
I swallow deeply before speaking, trying to regain a composure I’m not sure I have a hope of ever finding again.
“Can I ask who it is I’m marrying, at least? Could I meet him before the ceremony itself?”
My uncle starts to laugh.
“Stupid girl. Good luck, Osbourne.”
The two men share a knowing look between them, and I realize the vile man, who makes my skin crawl, is about to become my husband.
“Him?” I get to my feet and stomp like a child having a tantrum to the door. “I’ll not marry Osbourne in a million years.”
“You’ll do as you’re told, Mary,” my uncle shouts at me as I leave the room with a slam of the door and race down the corridor toward my bedroom. Please, don’t let this be happening. I don’t want to marry him. I can’t.