Lady Thief (22 page)

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.

He stepped closer, removing his cloak and
holding it towards her.
“You are cold, milady.”

She cringed away at the sight of the filthy
cloak.
“Nay, I am perfectly fine.”

He did not slow.
He kept coming nearer to
her.
Marianne refused to back away lest she allow him to believe
that the lady of the castle was frightened of her servants.
He was
soon upon her.

She stared him in the eyes, willing him to
turn away from her.
Not even Archer dared to stand so close.
“I
have no use for that.
My cloak is fine.”

“I insist.” He sprung, pulling a leather
strap hidden under the cloak and twisting it about her neck before
she could draw breath for her scream.

She fell back.
His grip on her neck caught
her but her legs gave out and she was forced down.

Robert followed her to the hay strewn floor.
His grip did not slack as he climbed on top of her to still her
kicking legs with his body.

Marianne clasped his wrists and tried to pry
herself free.
Her fingernails sank into his flesh but he held
firm.

Her neck seared with pain from the leather
and her throat burned, lungs constricting for air that would not
come.
Her face became hot.

Marianne turned her fingernails loose into
his hands.
His fading image winced but he refused to release
her.

Her tongue thickened, she tasted wool in her
mouth.
A strange sound vibrated in her ears.
Then all that existed was blackness.

***

William laughed when Bryce’s sword fell out
of his hand.
The larger man watched it clang to the floor as if he
had never thought such a thing was possible.

Playfully, William lifted the man’s chin with
the tip of his winning blade.

“My game.”

Bryce grinned, raising his hands mockingly.
“So it is, milord.”

Nicholas, laughing merrily, clapped his hands
from his seat.
Hugh shook his head and handed the man a coin.

“Your odds are bettering, my friend,” said
Hugh.
“At this rate Nicholas will have all his money back.”

William nodded, though any pity for his
gambling friends would not come from him.

He had much to be thankful and happy about,
more than just his returning skill.

His servants were working harder than he had
seen in years, a small peace was set between his wife and son.

And he was very much in love with his wife,
his Marianne, and no longer fearful of admitting it to himself or
to his bride.
She had been wonderfully accepting of his past sins
and always eager to learn more and please him in their bed.

What more could he ask?

“Aye, but I believe we should take our next
match outdoors, ‘tis not wise to be sword playing in my solar.”
William said.

“‘Tis too cold.” Said Nicholas, moving closer
to the fire.
“That is why you are a lord, so that you might play
indoors.”

William was about to tell him that their next
match would be held outside on the morn when his doors burst
open.

Olma ran inside accompanied by Adam.
He
clutched her arm, holding her upright as she was so red in the face
and out of breath that standing looked to be a chore.
Frozen tears
unthawed against her cheeks.

“My lord,” said Adam.
“The girl has found
James wounded, and your wife is missing.”

William’s insides shifted.

***

Marianne stirred.
Her head throbbed on all
sides and her breath came hot against her face, yet her entire body
tingled with freeze.

She frowned, recalling her strange dream and
noting how her bed rocked up and down, right and left.

She thought of telling the servants to tend
to the fire and bring her something warm to drink.
She was so sick
with dizziness she felt such a strange rocking.

Just thinking of the servants brought a
memory of Robert and his attack in the stable.

She gasped and her eyes flew open, aware of
herself and what had taken place even though she still could not
see.

The material against her face brought the
answer.
A horse blanket.

Robert covered her with a horse blanket, and
what she had once been so incoherent to think was her bed was
really the hard wooden surface of a haycart.
The sound of a horse
trudging through the cold mud sickened her with horror.

He was taking her somewhere.

She only prayed he had not noticed she
awoke.

Her mind raced.
Had Robert intended to kill
her?
Her hands and feet were not tied so ‘twas possible he thought
her dead when he piled her into cart that was not fit for a road.
But to what purpose?
And why move her corpse?

Slowly, her heart beating wildly in her
chest, Marianne took the blanket in her fingers and lowered it from
her face.

Cold, fresh air assaulted her.
Robert’s back
was to her, and he appeared much too at ease for a man who
attempted to kill the lady of his castle.
He was humming softly to
himself as he kept his eyes alert and ahead.

She looked up.
The sky was dark, darker than
it had been when she went to the stables.
No stars.
Naught but
blackness in the sky, which meant it had not cleared.

Marianne said earlier that they would likely
have snow, now she sent another silent prayer that they would not.
If she traveled a long distance the snow could cover the horse and
cart tracks.

Someone did answer her prayer.
But it was not
God and was no friend of Marianne’s.

A single fat snowflake descended from the
sky.
It landed on her nose in mockery before melting and dripping
down her cheek.

An uncountable number followed, filling the
air with a soft blinding white.

She looked at Robert again.
He was still
unaware of her.
She turned her head about to see around her and
found she did not recognize her whereabouts.

Surely William would attempt to bring her
back.
Another shock of dread and fear filled her.

What if he was unaware she was outside of the
castle walls?
He could still be searching for her within them, not
knowing she was gone until ‘twas too late.

And what of James and Olma?
How did Robert
manage to get her by them?

Marianne inched herself towards the back of
the cart, the horse blanket slid away from her body.
She kept her
eyes on Robert and her breathing small should he hear it.
Her blood
quickened as she came closer to the ledge.

The cart bobbed at a decent pace, and she was
low enough to the ground already that she could put her foot down.
But if she stumbled and he heard, she did not know what he would
do.

She did not stumble, she barely made a noise
when she landed in the cold mud.

He whipped his head around and saw her
anyway.
Marianne gasped and ran.

“Milady!” Robert stopped the cart and ran
after her.

Marianne’s feet caught in her gown and in the
mud, tripping her again and again.
She stood to run again,
desperate and panicking as his footsteps rang closer.

His fingers caught her hair, gripping tight
enough to cause pain.

Marianne screamed as her head was yanked
back.
Robert’s arms wrapped around her torso, trapping her arms and
lifting her feet completely off of the ground.

She continued to shriek, praying to be heard
by someone.

Robert slapped his hand over her mouth.
She
felt the calloused hand missing two fingers against her lips.
That
alone silenced her.

He growled in her ear, shaking her once.
“Milady, calm yerself and think of where we are.
I have been
traveling for many an hour while ye slept.
My little cart would not
call the attention of thieves, but a screaming woman in fine
garments
will
.”

Marianne tensed and ceased to struggle.
William’s anger with her when she rode so near the forest without
protection came to mind.

She was on a deserted road in the dark.
Should they be attacked, no one could save them.

Robert took her silence as surrender and put
her back on her feet.
He kept his hands firmly on her arms when he
brought her back, though he did not release her until reaching the
cart.

He threw her down on the old wood.
Marianne
saved herself from having the wind knocked out of her by throwing
her hands out when she landed.

He stood over her and reached above her head.
He pulled out a long stretch of thin rope from the space where he
once sat.
“Few men know of this road, milady.
The ones that do are
not to be trifled with.
I suggest you keep your voice low lest we
are heard.”

Marianne scrambled away from him, eyeing the
road at all angles in search of any murderers that might happen to
be lurking nearby.

Robert reached out and captured her wrists in
both his hands.
Marianne struggled, anger taking hold that he could
handle her in this manner, but his strength surpassed hers.

“Cease your struggles.” He hissed, slamming
her wrists against the wooden boards.

Marianne yelped but he paid no mind as he
looped the rope around her hands and tied them in a complicated
knot to the cart.