Lady Thief: A Scarlet Novel

My fingers pressed light to the bruises on my face. “I fair think she only defended me, not approved overmuch,” I said. “And I can’t speak to the rest. If Eleanor has some sort of interest in me, I don’t know of it.”

 

 

She waved her hand. “Fine. Keep your secrets; I’ll discover them in time anyway.” She sniffed, raising her chin. “It was curious that my husband and I didn’t see you with Guy while he’s been at court,” Isabel said, her voice fair quiet, like she wanted it to be kept secret.

 

“Not so curious,” I said with a shrug.

 

“No? A dutiful wife should always travel with her husband.”

 

Were this where he got the notion? “I’m not the most dutiful of wives.”

 

She looked at me and her eyes caught on the bruises. “No,” she said, “but you are lucky. Guy is a fine gentleman.”

 

I frowned at her, but caught the disbelieving words that were like to fly out of my mouth. Like it or not, I told him I’d behave and I never liked to cross out a promise. “You must know him … better than most.”

 

She smiled. Beautiful girls shouldn’t smile half as much as they do; it weren’t nearly fair to the rest of us. “I do; I’ve known him since I was a child. He was always such a kind friend.”

 

My mouth twisted up to keep words in. Kind? Kind? “I watched him kill a child without any cause,” I said, my voice quiet and low, the proper words not hard to find when my blood ran hot. “An innocent child. Such a man can never be called kind.”

 

Her shoulders went back and her chin went up higher. “You may be married to him, but you don’t know him. And you have no right to judge. You glorify that thief Robin Hood, but he’s killed as well. You, a lady, I can well imagine has killed. A despicable thing. And yet, you don’t even pause to consider what a man Guy was before you ran from him, before he scoured the earth to hunt you down. You created his cruelty.”

 

“No,” I said, vicious and fast. “He had a black pall on his soul before ever I met him. I could feel it from the first. And Rob and I never harmed a living thing for profit or sport. You know nothing of this.”

 

“Scarlet!” someone yelled, and I turned. It were Ben Clarke, the oldest of Mistress Clarke’s three boys and Will’s older brother. He were tall and long, like someone had stretched him before his body knew to do it. He were standing before a stall in the beginning of the market lane, with armor plates and such.

 

“Morning, Ben,” I said with a smile, trying to cool my rushing blood. It were a strange thing, how much the use of my name soothed me.

 

The ladies behind me were tittering though, and it took me a long moment to remember that in London, the night girls were called scarlets.

 

“You look awful fine,” Ben said to me with a laugh. “Passing strange, but very fine.”

 

“Ain’t no way to compliment a lady,” I told him, smacking him up the head with a touch of effort for his height.

 

Isabel made a noise, and Ben looked past me, losing his color and bowing, then dropping his rear down to kneel. Then he thought better of his knees in the cold mud and sort of crouched.

 

“Get up, Ben,” I said.

 

“No,” Isabel corrected. “Good morning, young man. And who might you be?”

 

“Milady. Ben Clarke, milady. Of the Clarkes. Of Edwinstowe. Milady.”

 

“Blathering idiot,” I muttered, crossing my arms. Tucking my hand in hurt, though, so the crossing didn’t last long.

 

“Please rise, Master Clarke,” she said. He did, awkwardly. “And what wares have you brought here?”

 

“My master’s. He’s a blacksmith in Worksop.”

 

“Scrawny for a blacksmith,” one lady said. Ben set to blushing and I glared at her.

 

“Ben’s learning,” I spat back. “He’s a good lad. Been providing for his family for years.”

 

Isabel held her hand out toward the ladies behind her, and one placed coins in her gloves. “I think my husband should like some new armor, Master Clarke. Please come to the castle when you’re finished for the day to fit him.” She pressed the coins into his hands. “Something to reward you for being such an excellent salesman.”

 

He bowed clumsily over the coins, looking fair awed and bloodless. “Thank you, your Highness. Milady Highness.”

 

Isabel nodded and turned away, and Ben threw his arms around me. “Thank you, Scarlet. Thank you so much.”

 

He let me go quick as he started, and immediately set to closing up his cart, I imagine to run back to his master and give the good news.

 

Isabel crooked her fingers at me, beckoning me along like a pup. Less than a pup, really. Least you called out for a pup.

 

I went. Most because in spite of her beauty and terrible sense of men, I liked what she’d done for Ben. “That will mean a great deal for him,” I told her. It were the closest I could come to thanking her for it.

 

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