Lady Thief

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.

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.

He took the horse blanket, shook it, and gently covered her shoulders with it.

Her mouth dropped. “You are certainly attentive considering your treatment of me earlier.”

He grinned and took his seat at the head of the cart, urging the horse forward.

Marianne bristled at being ignored. “William will find you, and when he does you will lose more than two fingers this time.”

He looked back at her, smirking, the horse still moving ahead. “Told ye that story, did he?”

Since William was not there to be insulted for his lack of sympathy, she was insulted for him. “Aye, he did, you horrible creature!”

She wanted to throw the blanket off her shoulders. Let him see that she did not need his kindness, but the sharp cold had her holding it close. She hated him all the more for it.

Robert chuckled again, whipping the horse to quicken its step. “He will not catch me until ‘tis too late. You sent Archer on his way, something I had not planned. That sickly squire is dead, he cannot say ‘twas I who attacked. And Lord Gray will search the entire castle for ye before thinking to search outside.”

Marianne tensed. He watched outside the stables while she sent Archer to his wife and child. Marianne remembered the prickle of spider legs against the back of her neck, following her for days. “‘Twas you all along watching me.”

He nodded. “Aye.”

“Why do such a thing? What harm have I or William ever caused you?”

Robert did not laugh this time, his jaw tightened. “If you bare Lord Gray a son, he will have no more use for Blaise.”

“Blaise?” Marianne could not help her genuine confusion. “You speak as though William keeps Blaise for the amusement of it. Blaise is his son.”

Robert whipped around to glare. “Nay, milady, Blaise is my son. And when Lord Gray has no more use for him he’ll be sent off, and who will care for me?”

“Care for you?” Now Marianne felt offended for Blaise and fearful for herself. For the first time she was glad she kept her possible pregnancy to herself.

Had it been announced she would surely be dead right now. “You are not doing this for Blaise, you are doing it for yourself. What can you hope to accomplish? If you wished to kill me you should have done it. Now you will be caught and William will see to it that you can never care even for yourself.”

“You are mistaken, milady. Despite your opinions of the lowly servants, I am incapable of truly harming an innocent creature,”

Marianne felt the red sore on her neck twitch and recalled how he threw her so carelessly into the cart. What was his idea of harming a creature?

Robert continued speaking, unaware of her thoughts. “If you stay, Lord Gray would soon have his heir and I will be doomed to sweeping stables until the day I die. Even with this task I am still taking a great risk, yet ‘twas the only option available to me.”

Marianne could hardly mask her disgust. “You cared nothing for Blaise, you used him on the belief that he would give you a better life on William’s death.”

Robert shrugged his shoulders and turned to watch the road again. “‘Tis the boy’s own fault. He is a man who has been knighted already. He should have known better.”

“And what are your plans when Blaise marries and produces an heir? You stopped him from wedding me, but you cannot stop him from wedding another.”

He laughed as though she had spoken some fantastic tale. “Milady, I urged Blaise to wed ye. Should he produce an heir before William, that softhearted fool would never disinherit them, and I will be free to live comfortably upon his death. ‘Twas no one’s idea but his own not to wed ye. And stubborn fool that he was, I could not convince him that ye were a perfect match. He refused to listen to the advice of the man who grooms his horses.” The last of his sentence came in a twisted grumble.

He faced her again, a hint of a smile. “If it pleases ye, milady, his harsh words were written to ye because of his anger with me.”

It did not please her at all. “And where do we go now? You claimed you cannot kill me.” Marianne reminded him, clinging to the fact hopefully.

She could see the corner of his mouth lift. “I am not surprised ye do not recognize this road, milady, ‘tis the road I lived on while exiled from Graystone. Ye would have never ridden on it. But ‘tis also a shortcut to your old home.”

Marianne’s eyes widened. “Home?”

“Aye, I’m taking ye to see Sir Ferdinand.” He turned to look at her again. “The task yer own father was sent to accomplish before he took the coward’s way out and fled.”