Lady Thief (21 page)

“Pleasant enough to put color in your cheeks,
I see.” A slow, confidant smile lit up his face.

Her cheeks only colored more.
She nodded,
then watched as his smile vanished.

“Would it then shock you to learn that such
intimacy can be used to cause pain?
Not only of the heart, but true
physical pain?
Some men are skilled enough to use it as a form of
torture.”

Marianne laughed, once.
William did not laugh
with her, his expression heavy, and so she was silent.

From what William had made her feel, in her
heart and body, it seemed impossible that such an act could ever be
used for torture.
Yet he stood, determined and severe, telling her
so.

“How can that be?”

“Young men are mostly guilty of this.
They
are as unskilled in the bed as their lovers or wives, and are
unaware that to prevent this pain in the woman’s body, the passions
of both parties needs to be stirred.
‘Tis thought to be normal for
a woman not to enjoy the physical attentions of her husband.”

Marianne suddenly knew what he was referring
to.
“Do you mean Alice?”

He closed his eyes and nodded.
“Aye.
I had
not known ‘twas possible we could be intimate without causing her
some discomfort, and she believed I was causing her harm
purposefully.
Rather than hurt her further, I ceased to perform my
duties as her husband.
She took it to mean that I had ceased to
love her as well.”

William backed away from her to pace.
Marianne’s body chilled now that the heat of him left her.
Suddenly
his back was to her.
Her heart went out to him but she felt that he
needed to speak without interruption.

“Nicholas suggested a way in which I might
learn the ways of the bed.
A woman by the name of Bertha, a
prostitute Nicholas favored, would teach me, and in my young
foolishness I accepted.”

He faced her again, the strain of retelling
the story etched on his face.
“Unfortunately she was also a
favorite of Sir Ferdinand.
A spiteful man.
When he discovered I was
paying for her services, he held the information over me until
Alice died in childbirth.
Bertha disappeared after and was never
seen again.”

Marianne exhaled, hearing the unsaid
accusation toward the man who might have been her husband.
Cold
fear sprang into her chest for what she had barely escaped.
“Good
lord.”

“Does it upset you, hearing this?”

It did, but she found his honesty
exhilarating.
“Nay, you may continue.”

He hesitated a moment, trying to find himself
again.
“Alice took her comfort in Robert, who convinced her that if
I did indeed love her, I would not put her through such an ordeal.
She confessed everything to me some weeks later, and in my weakness
I could not reveal my own sins.
But before Bertha disappeared I
halted my appointments with her so that I might again be a faithful
husband.”

Marianne’s love for him swelled, but her
heart broke within the same moment.
“You forgave her, but why not
send Robert away?
Punish him for his part in this?”

“I have punished him.
Though you have likely
not seen it, he is missing two fingers on his right hand.”

Marianne’s hand shot to her throat.
If
William found pleasure in the telling of what he was capable of
doing to another man, it did not show on his face.

Now that she thought of it, she had seen
Robert hiding his hand from her before.
The first moment she saw
him his arm was at such an angle that she could not see all of the
fingers on his right hand.

“I thought your skills with a blade was
poor?” She asked.

He nodded.
“They are, but ‘twas not always
the case, I once knew how to handle my weapons quite well.
When
Alice died, I foolishly ceased practicing, and there were no
battles to be had anyway.
I had not realized how poor I had become
until just last year when I lifted a sword and found myself clumsy
with it.”

“Any other man would have killed the servant
who touched his wife.” Despite his now calm manner, she was
surprised that he had not done so.

Again, William nodded.
“As I explained, I
felt some of the responsibility was my own.
I sent Robert away, but
he came to me a few years later, starving, during the winter
months.
I took pity on him and allowed him to return.
Had I known
Blaise would grow to look so much like him in more than just the
color of his hair, I would have given Robert to Bryce.” He shook
his head.
“‘Tis far too late for that, now.”

Marianne went to him.
She could bear the
distance between them no longer.
She took his larger hand into her
smaller ones and kissed the knuckles there.
Such a kind heart did
not deserve this pain.

She did not wish to hear more about his love
for another woman, a love that had nearly destroyed him, but a part
of her did wish to know, to have him lift the burdens from his
chest and be free.
Marianne wanted to be the one to take his pain
from him.
“Alice died in childbirth?”

William nodded.
“Yes, though not straight
away, and while with child she never hinted that the baby might not
be mine.
After giving birth she held Blaise and saw the color of
his hair.” He shook his head.
“I could not deny them, I loved her
and as far as I was concerned, he was my son.”

“And you told her this?”

“Aye.” He gave a hollow sort of laugh.
“I
could not even part with him so that he might become a page to
another lord, but I did not wish for him to be influenced by Robert
the way Alice had been.
Bryce handled all of his training so that I
would be near.”

Marianne lifted herself up and kissed him.
She meant for it to only be a gentle thing to reassure him that,
unlike Alice, she would never be swayed, that she would always be
loyal, always have faith in him, but he clutched her shoulders and
pulled her close, crushing his mouth to hers.

Marianne recognized the difference between
this kiss and the kisses he gave to her when he tried to stir her
interests in loving, or when they performed the act of making
love.

This kiss, while desperate, was filled with a
different need.
She reassured him by returning his brutal kiss and
sliding her fingers in his hair.
She opened her mouth to him and he
groaned and plundered.

When she released his lips, her breath was
short.
“Every son I bear will be of your blood.
Alice was fortunate
to have you.”

He smiled that same sad smile at her,
refusing to release her.
“Blaise hardly believes so.” It was such a
sad thing to say.

Images of Blaise, angry and glaring at his
father, came to mind, and Marianne knew she had the answer for why
he would be so hostile towards the man who raised him as his
own.

“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 honest 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.