Lady Thief

by Rizzo Rosko

Whatever it was she was sure it was sinful, but she gasped and leaned into his touch. God save her she liked it.

  “I saw all of that,” William kissed her cheek and smirked again, “and your father told me of him.”

  “You swine!” Marianne pushed hard and stumbled away from him, humiliated and angry with herself.

  He stared as though what he had done had not caused his blood to rush like hers did, still did. She could barely believe her beating heart. How was that possible?

  Unexpectedly, he chuckled, and it unnerved her.

  She fisted her hands on her hips and prayed he would not notice how she had reacted to him. “Now what is amusing you?”

  “‘Tis amusing to know that I truly am an old fool, no matter how I try to deny it.”

  “What?”

  “Why else would you stage a kidnapping for Blaise? You did not want an old man creating a chill in your bed, and here I am, doing just that. No, you are young and wish to feel the fires of passion, am I correct?”

  Marianne swallowed and tried to ignore the pooling heat in her belly. How could he have been so right? Weakly, she nodded her head, and William did the same, bringing his hand up to his chin in thought.

  “Very well,” he approached her as he spoke, and she tried to back up only to realize she was still against the wall. “If you want passion I shall give you passion. I shall take you to my bed and ravish you until you were unable to leave. I will give you heated kisses and promises and children.” He stood before her but refrained from touching her. “Is that what you would like?”

  She scowled, pushing at him with such a force that this time she succeeded in heaving him away. “No! I do not want your false promises or your body if all you will think of is mindless pleasure! I am not your plaything and never will I be!” She brought her fist down on his shoulder, and he barely flinched under the attack.

  ***

  He grinned a predatory grin. Success! This was the fiery spirit he had met in the church, this was the woman who convinced him with the help of a blade that marriage to her was the correct choice.

  Very well. He would play along with her wishes, for now, but soon the time would come when she would not only be willing, but she would leap into his embrace at his call.

  “I apologize for the assumption, my dear.”

  She bristled at the name and his grin became wider. “But regardless, I shall become more attentive to your needs.”

  She eyed him suspiciously, and he got the feeling she believed he was saying one thing but meaning another. “Thank you, milord.”

  “Call me by my given name or naught at all, Marianne.”

  “Thank you, William.” She said, and he was surprised that there was no venom in her voice.

  ***

  “You may go now. Off to show me what you can do with the servants whom I am incapable of controlling. I shall see to finding you a female escort on the morrow.”

  Thinking of how lonely she had been over the last week in William’s castle, Marianne nodded her head gratefully.

  He stepped aside for her to leave and she scurried out of the room. Like a frightened child, she admonished herself.

  She wondered why she felt like such a fool for turning down his offer to attend to her needs.

  Chapter Six

  Early the next morn, Marianne shivered awake in her chilly bedchamber, ate another cold breakfast, and felt her anger rising.

  This was the end of this nonsense. She would show William that she could deliver on her claim and that she could do it in a timely manner.

  She found the serving girl William promised her. Instead of a plump, middle aged woman like she expected, Olma turned out to be a shy little thing, not yet twenty, who could barely stand the sight of her own shadow.

  Marianne circled the girl who was to be her companion, tapping her chin thoughtfully when Olma did not so much as look up at her.

  What strange behavior in a serving girl. If she were to break such poor habits in the rest of the servants she would have to start with Olma.

  “Stand up straight and watch where you are going. You do not wish to walk into a wall, do you?”

  “Nay, Milady.”

  Olma trembled under Marianne’s hard stare and stern voice.

  Be gentle, she reminded herself. She wanted Olma to do her work properly, not scare her half to death.

  Marianne lifted the girl’s chin. “You may smile. I am sure you have a pretty smile and it will help me to feel better knowing that my companion is actually listening to what I’m saying.”

  Olma’s lips lifted, though she still had trouble keeping her eyes away from her feet. With her pale complexion and light hair the smile did add beauty to her face that no one would otherwise be able to see had Olma continued to point her nose at the floor.

  Good, she was getting through to her already. With any luck Mariane would find more maids eager to please and they would help her train the rest of the castle.

  Since asking politely did not help with the servants, Marianne loudly made her demands known. She set about to her task with a ferocity she had not known she possessed.

  “This pheasant is cold! Send it back up and tell the cooks that if they try to serve their lord one more frozen meal they will be sleeping outside come winter!”

  “I want the gardens lush before the month ends or I’ll have someone’s hide! There’s still time to have herbs before the first snow!”

  “Look at this! There is so much dirt on this shelf that I can make pictures on it with my finger!”

  Marianne expected the servants would attempt to escape the tasks she set out for them. To stall her efforts most moved at the pace of slugs. There were some who were willing to jump at the high pitched screech of their lady, and Marianne worked them first.

  She received polite smiles when in the same room as them, but she had Olma to tell her what they really thought of her.

  “I do not wish to upset ye, milady, but the others do not like having ye here or the rules ye set out for them. Some of the women say,” she paused to brace herself. “That ye are a…a red haired demoness.”

  Olma bobbed quickly and averted her eyes under her headdress as if she thought Marianne would be taking her anger out on her.

  Marianne felt her eye twitch, and she reminded herself that she had pressed Olma for this information. “And the men?”

  Olma ducked her head further until her chin touched her chest. “I do not speak to the men, milady.”

  She forced a gentle smile for the girl. “No, of course not. Thank you. I do appreciate your efforts.”

  Along with the cleaning of the rooms and kitchen, hot meals and hard work, Marianne made a habit of ordering daily baths since she first arrived at William’s castle, but she would no longer take cold water from the lake.

  The fires were lit, the castle warm and the evening meals were served hot and on time.

  She sighed and sank into her haven. She could never bathe every day while in her father’s care, he wanted the servants at his disposal, not hers, but now that she was a lady she could do as she pleased and enjoy the water. Provided she remained near the fire when she got out.

  “I must say that I am impressed, Marianne,”

  She tensed in the tub when William’s silky voice called to her but did not look up. Olma and the other servant girls scrubbed her back and prepared her gown for the laundress as though he were not there.

  And why wouldn’t they? She thought. He was the lord of the castle and she his wife. He had every right to be there if he wished it.

  Still, despite his promise to become more attentive to her, he spent most of his nights off doing whatever he did to occupy himself, and she had not been expecting him.

  William stepped closer, and when she did face him his glittering eyes matched the smirk on his face. “All of you, leave us.”

  The girls scuttled from the room like mice. Marianne was suddenly alone with him, naked in her tub and wishing that at least Olma
had stayed. Marianne had been with the girl for barely three days and her desperate need for female companionship had made her love Olma already despite the lack of equal conversation.

  Marianne’s muscles twitched as she struggled to keep from covering her chest with her hands. They were visible to him, so close to the water’s surface that her nipples peaked above the water just so. Pretending he could not see them made her feel only a little better, and she dared not adjust how she sat lest he see right through her calm facade.

  “Impressed with what, my lo—William?” She quickly corrected herself, swallowing hard and trying to calm her labored breathing.

  He stepped closer and knelt next to the tub. The setting sun shone in through the small windows and highlighted his easy posture and expectant smile. The firelight, so close to the tub, made everything seem so much warmer and clearer, including her naked body.

  Marianne desperately wished she could throw her robe around herself, but ‘twas across the room on a chair. And suddenly having the tub placed so close to the fireplace did not seem a particularly good idea as she began to feel overheated.

  “Why, I am pleased with you, my dear.” He casually dipped his fingers into her bath water, creating tiny ripples when he swirled them close to her exposed breast.

  Her face heated, not because of their closeness, but because she was no longer certain if she wanted to deny him what was rightfully his. She had certainly stopped thinking of an annulment.

  That reminded her. “I have been meaning to thank you. For not forcing my hand the night I came here. I am thankful for your patience with me. It recently occurred to me that I had yet to make my gratitude known.”

  She looked at him. His brows were drawn together. “You believed I would have forced you?”

  “You said it yourself that night. ‘Twould have been your right.”

  He made a noncommittal sound and looked away.

  While he was distracted, Marianne admired his face. No longer did she see the single hairs of silver in his sand colored hair or the small wrinkles under his eyes as a sign of his age, but as distinguished features she began to enjoy, features that would never be found in a man closer to her age, like Blaise.

  He would likely look ridiculous when he aged and silver weeded through that orange mop of his.

  “Today is Tuesday, do you know what that means?”

  Marianne shook her head.

  “Tuesday is the day I usually spend with Blaise, supervising his training. I have been out of practice with handling swords and blades as of late, so I tend to let Bryce work with him as long as I am there.”

  She nodded. That certainly explained where he went every Tuesday, but did not explain his absence during the nights. The rest of his words came to her, and she puzzled over them.

  As lord he should never be out of practice with his weapons. What could bring that about?

  William continued, unaware of the question in her head. “Usually I do a little swordplay with the two of them, but today I sent Blaise off for his training alone,”

  Marianne lifted a brow and completely forgot about their positions. William was a creature of habit; it was how she managed to track him so easily since he rode the same route every Sunday after church. “Alone?”

  He smirked and nodded, like a boy confessing to a sin he did not particularly care about, his fingers still in her bath water. “Aye. As odd as it would seem I went against my normal routine to keep an eye on you.”

  She glared and turned away, though the gesture was half-hearted. “I thought I felt someone’s eyes on my back. Olma had me nearly convinced I was going mad.”

  His wet finger flitted over her raised nose. “Always in the air.”

  Marianne hurriedly lowered her nose, mortified that she had been caught again. This time she could not stop herself from covering her breasts with her arms. She was shocked to find that her nipples had hardened themselves and a spark of sizzling fire lit up under the skin when she touched them.

  She shifted her legs and noted that there was a spot that felt swollen somehow, pulsing, in the place where they met in the middle and inside. How was he able to do this to her?

  She was desperate to put her mind on other things. “I shall assume that next week you will not be following me around then?”

  He nodded and resumed swirling his fingers in her water. “Aye, next week I will train with him.”

  “With him? You mean to help him improve.”

  William shook his head. His face colored and he forced himself to look her in the eyes. “Nay, you misunderstand. My skills are not what you imagined them to be. I am sorry to tell you that you entered into a marriage with a man with little skill with a sword, or any blade, or any weapon.”

  She blinked. To be slightly clumsy with a weapon was one thing, but to have very little skill was another.

  From the moment they met, while she had not pictured him furiously wielding swords around, he held an air of power over her, even when on his knees, that made his claim difficult to swallow. Not for the first time she wondered what it had been that made him ignore his studies with a blade.

  Just looking at him brought her back to her former state in that church. He held her, pressed her to him, and she felt his strong arms and chest consuming her. While he warned her that his skills were lacking, she had no doubt that his strength left naught to be desired.

  Except now she truly desired him. She had for some time if she was to be honest with herself.

  They were silent for so long that the sun finished tucking itself away, and the only light and warmth in the room came flickering and crackling from the fireplace. Marianne’s hot bath turned cool, and William was the one who broke their spell. “I realize I have not made good on my promise and would like to rectify the situation.”

  She cocked her head. Surely he could not be scheming to get her into his bed? He said it himself that he wanted to give her passion, would she not have to be wild with wanton emotions for that to happen?

  Granted, she did want to be in his bed, but at the same time she did not. She was going mad, because no other woman in the land could be subject to such conflicting thoughts.

  She put her hands to her forehead to still the spinning. Stop it, stop it, stop it!

  “Marianne?”

  The water splashed as she lowered her arms, catching his sleeves. “Aye, I apologize my—William, I was lost in thought.”

  He gave the dripping material a glance before turning his attention back to her. She recognized the mischievous grin right away. “Your William? I enjoy the sound of that.”

  He caressed her jaw and she shivered. That feeling in her breasts and between her legs intensified, the pulsing quickened and she could not calm her breathing. She jerked away from his touch to stop it. But he continued to stare and the pulsing did not vanish.

  “You know ‘tis not what I meant.”

  “Yes, but I enjoy it nonetheless. Now, to my original topic…”

  She cleared her throat, gripped the sides of the tub and stood. Paying no mind to her nudity or the chilling air as she walked, dripping to the chair where her robe lay. She tugged it on and tied it tight. She heard William groan and felt a bubbling satisfaction rise within her.

  There was no sin in showing her body to her husband, but was it sinful to enjoy the torment she caused him?

  Most likely, but God would forgive her. She had a valid excuse, she was curious about how she affected him and wanted a little revenge for the way he affected her.

  “Yes, you should be ashamed for deceiving the lady of the house.” She teased and faced him.

  He shifted as though he were uncomfortable and his jaw clenched harder than a stone.

  Well, well, well. It seemed she affected him just as much as he did her. The knowledge was an empowering comfort.

  He coughed and rubbed his nose. He was trying to prevent her from seeing the flush in his cheeks. “Aye, I have, forgive me. As I said I wish to make amends for my be
havior.”

  She folded her arms and walked across the room to where her comb lay next to the basin of water. She sat and, as William had sent everyone away, set to work combing her hair. “That sounds promising. You may start by telling me where you go every night that you do not spend in our bed.”

  She spared him a glance. He blinked before the confusion in his eyes flashed. “Where I go? My dear, I would almost believe ‘twas jealousy I heard in your voice.”

  She looked away, combing her hair with more vigor. “Jealousy? Pray, is there someone I should be jealous of?”

  His barking laughter made her turn to him. He nearly doubled over, his face red with delight.

  She saw red herself and slammed her hand on the table. “There is someone else!”

  Marianne could not explain why she was so angered. ‘Twas not uncommon for the lord of the house to keep a mistress under his roof, and she had barely allowed William to touch her, why would he not seek companionship elsewhere?

  She should have predicted it, have prepared herself for the inevitable time when a mistress was confirmed. Instead she flew at him, pounding against his chest, wishing with all her might that she had a weapon to wield against him since he was admittedly so untalented with them.

  ***

  William allowed her to throw her tantrum, though he doubted his laughter eased her wrath. Finally, he wiped the moisture from his eyes before capturing her flailing fists and putting a stop to her petty attacks.

  This was not supposed to happen. What had once been thoughts of taking her into his bed and having her with no concern to her own pleasure turned into thoughts of mutual desire. He had no visions that she could love him, but he did have vivid dreams of having her make love to him with her entire body and soul, willingly coming into their bed and giving herself to him while he showed her how to please a man and how he could please her in return.

  He was not certain when it happened, but he knew that the need to humiliate and hurt her began causing an ache in his chest that reminded him of what it was like to truly care for a woman’s wellbeing. Something he had not felt in many years. He no longer wished to emotionally harm her for his own pride, but that wish also made him see that he did not wish unhappiness upon her either.