Lady Thief (30 page)

Elizabeth's mouth nearly dropped.
This man
was his father?
She was sure she had made a mistake because they
looked nothing alike.

Lord Gray stood tall and proud before his
son, but not taller, and the older man sported hair that spoke of
soft sand which suggested Blaise inherited his hideous hair from
his mother.
And while Eliza could never accuse Blaise of appearing
skinny, he almost appeared small when his shoulders were compared
to the broad mass of his father’s.

As if hearing her thoughts and becoming
insulted by them, Blaise gripped her hand and yanked her towards
the older man.
"Father, this is lady Eliza Hollow—”

“Elizabeth.” She corrected.

Blaise’s lips curled.
“Elizabeth.
My
betrothed
." He hissed the last part much the same as he had
hissed her name, squeezing her hand as he did so.
"Eliza, this is
my father, lord William Gray."

Had Blaise not introduced them Elizabeth
would have gone on believing she'd made a mistake in his identity.
She curtsied low, wishing to avoid any questions the man might give
her following his shocked gaze.
He surely did not expect his son to
confess to being betrothed to a woman who looked as though she sat
below a serf on the grand scale of things.

She groaned at the mental image she gave
herself, wishing with all her might that she had time to throw away
the ragged thing she wore so that she might be dressed properly
like she planned.

Lord Gray peered behind her instead and
addressed Blaise.
Elizabeth’s knees shook when a pleased smile
lifted his lips.
"Betrothed?"

She couldn’t believe it.
Was the man not
angry?

"Father, may I have a private audience with
you in your solar?" Blaise rushed his words, grabbing Elizabeth's
hand in his iron grasp again.
She fought to keep from showing any
pain as his hand squeezed too hard.

William blinked, seeming to sense the
desperate mood surrounding his son.
"Very well, but I want you
dressed first."

Blaise looked down at himself, as though
remembering how little he wore.
He released Elizabeth's hand and
rushed across the courtyard.

Elizabeth rubbed her wrist, her entire hand
cold now that his firm grip no longer kept it hot.

Lord Gray put a gentle hand over her shoulder
and pulled her along with him.
"Come, lady Elizabeth, I shall
introduce you to the mistress of the house."

Her body tensed at his unexpected touch and
soft voice, especially since her crusty garments were now ruining
his clean clothes.
But he did not seem to mind, nor did he give
another glance to the hideous gown she wore with its dirty hems and
tears.
Indeed, he did not even hesitate as he led her in the same
direction Blaise had run off in.

His words of being introduced to the lady of
the castle finally reached her.
Elizabeth jerked to a stop in
panic.
"Nay, milord, I—" She cleared her throat and forced calm
into her heart.
"Please, milord, may I dress first?
I am appalled
in the manner I presented myself to you and would like to do better
for your wife."

He laughed.
Laughed!
"I do not believe
Marianne will much care how ye look, but I shall send you off with
a maid if it calms your soul."

He spoke in such a gentle manner that
Elizabeth already felt at ease in his presence, as though she’d
known him her entire life.

Elizabeth had always been taught that wealthy
men, lords, and ladies were cruel beings who did not much care for
pleasantries unless they were directed towards themselves.
Her
mother told her that they took what they wanted, and did not care a
whiff of anyone else.

She had always known it had been a mistake.
The nobles were called nobles for a reason and lord Gray was proof
enough of that.
She'd known the man for less than five minutes and
she liked him already.

***

Elizabeth was taken an empty room, and as
promised, a young servant girl came to help her out of her filthy
rags.
The tight sleeves pealed from her arms like a second skin,
and Eliza’s body seemed to inhale a breath of fresh air as it was
removed.

Despite the wonderful welcome and treatment,
Elizabeth could hardly contain her awe at her surroundings.
'Twas
no servant’s room she had been directed to.
She could tell even
though she had never been inside of a castle before.

The elegantly carved four poster bed, with a
mattress that looked thick and soft with clean quilts was the item
worth the most admiration.
She could not wait until she could sleep
in it.
Thick rushes on the floor welcomed her feet, and painted oak
furniture were proof enough that lord Gray must indeed have enjoyed
their first meeting.

As she had yet to explain that she'd saved
the life of lord Gray’s son, 'twas likely she’d only been shown
this room because lord William assumed she truly was lord Blaise’s
betrothed.
She shuddered to think of what he would do when he
discovered it had just been a jest on her part.

Eliza wanted to bathe, but with how quickly
her gown had been thrown on her, and the promise of meeting the
lady of the castle in mere minutes, she didn't dare ask for one.
‘Twould be too presumptuous and take far too long.

“Ye seem out of sorts, milady.” The girl said
while her fingers worked on the many buttons and laces.

Elizabeth scratched her arm under the tight
sleeves; dirty skin itched beneath the fine fabric, driving her
mad.
Though she had scrubbed her face with an old rag before
setting off with Blaise, her body protested any further movement
before washing.
“Could we perhaps take another moment for me to
wash?”

The servant girl’s face widened, as though
she hadn’t thought of it.
She turned her head to the empty basin
where water should have been, and bobbed an apologetic curtsy.

“Forgive me, milady.
I ‘ad not realized water
‘ad not been brought in.” The girl promptly scurried out of the
room like a frightened bird.
Elizabeth stood confused when alone.
How long would she take?
Would Elizabeth still be in time to be
introduced to lady Gray?

Those thoughts barely left her head before
the girl rushed back inside with a pitcher in her hands.
She poured
the water into the basin that sat on the table, and Elizabeth
sighed and surged forward like a starved man towards food.

She splashed her face and rubbed her neck
with the cool liquid while the girl behind her worked on loosening
her gown so that she might scrub her arms.
She washed until the
water turned brown with the mud from her hair, face, and arms.
The
servant girl swiftly carried off the soiled water and brought fresh
water to her so that she might finish cleaning herself.

Ah, what would she have done without the
swift little bird behind her?
Elizabeth did not care that the water
splashed against her gown as long as it was only in small drops,
just so long as she emerged a clean lady.

She scrubbed everywhere she could without
entirely removing the only fine bit of clothing she owned, even
scraping the dirt out from under her fingernails.

Her skin felt lighter, not tight with drying
mud, and while her hair was again soaking limp because of when she
put her entire head in the basin, she still felt clean and
refreshed.
She heaved a happy sigh and addressed the girl trying to
dry her hair without wrinkling her gown.
"I think I am ready now.
What is your name, girl?"

"Olma, milady," she said, leaving her hair so
that she might return to helping Elizabeth back into her gown.
"Shall I send that one for washing?" She asked, indicating the
filthy gown with a jerk of her head.

Elizabeth looked at it and winkled her nose.
"Nay, I shall never wear it again after tonight."

***

Elizabeth was led to the solar where Blaise
intended to explain to his father that he was not betrothed to the
woman he brought home with him.
While she did not look forward to
the embarrassing encounter, she delighted when all eyes in the room
focused on her.

Blaise's especially.
No longer wearing the
shoddy blanket she presented him with earlier, her heart fluttered
at the sight of his clean tunic, boots, and leggings.

Elizabeth resisted the urge to reach up and
touch her heart.
How strange!
She had seen him naked before and
walked with him knowing there was naught beneath that foul robe she
gave him but hard flesh, and yet the sight of him fully clothed
still sent a shiver through her.

He suddenly seemed ...
perfect.
Even his
hideous hair, now washed of the dirt that darkened the orange
color, seemed as bright as a flame on top of his head.

He turned his head away from a conversation
with his father, looked at her, and his jaw dropped a few inches
while the color of his eyes seemed to become a brighter shade of
blue.

She had no jewels to speak of, but the gown
she wore and hard scrubbing made her feel as refined and beautiful
as any real lady.
The little servant girl, Olma, had done a
wonderful job braiding her thick brown hair in a shining crown
above her head.

Would Blaise be giving her such a look of
intensity had she covered half her head in a headdress?

Remembering herself, she curtsied to everyone
in the room.
"My lords, my lady." She amended, seeing the woman
standing beside lord Gray.
Her belly protruded heavily away from
her body, but that did not deter the gentle smile on her face.

She had hair of such brilliant, impossible
red that Elizabeth would have been certain she was Blaise’s mother,
if only they did not appear so close in age.
“Are you to be my new
daughter?”

“New—” Elizabeth sputtered, her body heating.
Had Blaise not explained that they were not to be wed after
all?

Lord Gray took the woman's hand and pat it
gently.
“Marianne, my dear, I am sorry to say that 'tis not to be.
You have only just arrived shortly before our guest, and have not
heard Blaise's confession.”

William looked pointedly at his son.
Blaise’s
face coloured all the way up to that flame-shaped orange head of
his, and in turn Blaise sent a sharp glance towards Elizabeth.
“Aye, Marianne.
Elizabeth and I are not to be married.
‘Twas her
simple chattering that spawned that rumour.”

Elizabeth bristled under her gown and
clenched her fists.
"I would have made no comment at all had you
not been jesting with those men outside that I was your whore."

William snapped his eyes towards Blaise.
'Twas the first time Elizabeth had seen their calm blues appear so
sharp.
"Is that true?"

Blaise had the decency to duck his head in an
abashed manner.
"Father, I was attacked on the road last night in
the rain and robbed of everything."

Marianne brought her hand up to cover a small
gasp.
William's eyes widened.
"Was this the reason for your grand
entrance today?"

Blaise nodded.
"Aye.
I simply did not want
the men to know that I had been taken in by a few peasants.
So I
explained to them that I was robbed while bedding her."

"You foolish boy." Lord Gray hissed.

Elizabeth's mouth dropped when, instead of
scolding him further, lord Gray pulled Blaise from his seat to hold
him.
"I care not about the nature of your robbery so long as you
are returned safely."

Blaise pulled eagerly away from his father's
grasp and cleared his throat.
"Aye, well, 'tis also the reason why
I bring Eliza with me today.
She saved my life."

All eyes returned their attention to her.
Elizabeth’s body warmed under their curious stares.
She ducked her
head as though she could avoid the heat.

Lady Gray grinned proudly.
Lord Gray eyed her
curiously, rubbing his chin.
"Is that so?
Against a band of
thieves?
Well then, I can certainly see why you wouldn't want the
men outside knowing of that."

"William!" Lady Gray’s grin disappeared.

"I was only saying," he muttered.

Elizabeth decided to speak for herself before
Blaise could utter another word.
"Actually, milord, I came upon
Blaise later.
The men attacked him and left him for dead in the
middle of the road.
He lay in a puddle, and if he had been left
there and not awoke before the rain could fill it with more water,
he would have drowned."