Lady Thief

by Rizzo Rosko

  The young squire jogged forward. If Marianne thought her screams frightened him ‘twas nothing compared to how he refused to look in William’s eye now.

  “What was my wife doing seeking out Robert?” William asked when he was near enough.

  James had the good sense to look embarrassed. “I do not know, milord. She said nothing to me and I only found them near the stables after they got away from me.”

  William turned to Olma and sneered at her as well. “You would only protect your lady and not say anything.”

  Marianne snapped at him. “Do not be harsh with her. ‘Tis not her fault you cannot control yourself.”

  “I cannot control myself? You, my dear, have less self control than any living creature I have ever met. ‘Tis your lack of control that put us here!”

  The second insinuation towards his regret of the marriage was the last she could take. Without commanding her body to act, she squared her shoulders before his taller frame and slapped him. The resounding crack echoing loudly enough to send birds from their nests in the woods, Marianne was sure.

  The demanding fury on William’s face melted into stunned disbelief before her eyes. And because she was a coward, Marianne fled from him before he could do anything to her in return.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she blindly ran, humiliation and heartbreak throbbing in her chest and escaping her throat in choked sobs.

  He did not love her. He regretted that they were wed, that she had chained him to her with her foolishness

  And he was correct. Of the two of them, she had the least control.

  ***

  William watched her go, frozen in place and hand on his tingling cheek, Olma and James scurried after their lady. William turned, similar looks of shock were on all three men behind him.

  “Are you certain she was not raised by a pack of wild dogs?” Hugh asked.

  “A woman’s temper is not a thing to be trifled with,” Nicholas replied when William did not.

  William was thankful that neither of he nor his wife had given this show of temper in front of anyone else. Regardless, William was at a loss for what he should do.

  Part of him wished to punish her so that she would know to never behave in such a way again, but he knew that to do so would be to kill the fire in her that he did indeed love.

  Regardless, he could not trust himself to leave her be now. Whether he punished her or not, if he did not go after her she was sure to do something rash again.

  Nicholas smirked, seeming to already know what William would do before he did. “We forgive you for your cruel abandonment of your guests. A woman’s hissing heart needs to be soothed before it blackens against her spouse.”

  Bryce rolled his eyed and rubbed his face. “God’s teeth, will ye kindly shut that romantic nonsense up? I’ll be forced to throttle ye if ye spew anymore of it.”

  Satisfied that his guests would not bear any grudge against him, William went after his wife.

  ***

  Marianne had to run into the castle and take several turns before she was satisfied James and Olma would not find her. She loved Olma and was growing fond of the boy but she needed to be left alone with her humiliation.

  ‘Twas the second time he had suggested she was having an affair and the second time he claimed to regret their marriage. She could take it no more, so she slapped him.

  The nerve of him! How could he suggest such a thing?

  She rubbed away the moisture on her cheeks and the guilty tingle in her palm as she sat herself on a bench outside of the Chapel. ‘Twas quiet, something she thought she needed but the silence only prompted her to think about her mistake.

  She’d struck him, in front of his friends. If there would be a penalty then she would pay it. Though no love existed between them, she felt certain what they shared would have brought some level of trust between them.

  She knew better now.

  Already tired of sitting and sniffling, Marianne rose to her feet and went back to the stables, rubbing the annoying tingle in her palm along the way.

  She went inside and this time was glad to find Robert absent.

  The grooms saw her and looked amongst themselves. The bravest came forth.

  “Ye be needin’ any help, milady?”

  Marianne forced a smile to her trembling lips. “Nay, I merely came to enjoy the animals.”

  He nodded and bowed, though before he turned away his eyes went to hers. There was concern on his face.

  Marianne wiped her cheeks. Moisture touched her fingers.

  She sighed. ‘Twould be obvious to any who saw her that she’d been weeping.

  She took a breath and allowed herself to relax. The grooms returned to their duties quietly, occasionally they gazed at her, as if they assumed she was only there to search for flaws in their work.

  She was not. The scent of horses, leather, and old grass soothed her. She went to the mare her father brought with him and debated on taking her for a ride. She should give her a name at the very least. None of those things would take her mind from her husband.

  She made up her mind to brush the mare when William’s voice stopped her. She stiffened.

  “Could you explain to me why I am not surprised with your presence here?”

  Stiffly she turned and faced him. She distinguished the red mark on his cheek as her own handprint even from the distance. She looked away. “Despite what you are thinking, I came here to spend time with my horse.” As if to prove it she found the brush and began grooming her.

  His voice rumbled. “Everyone out.”

  There was a brief and curious hesitation among the men in the stables before they dropped their tools and did as their lord bid them. Marianne heard the footsteps and watched the shadows of each man disappear outside the stable. She flinched when the door closed behind them.

  She was alone with her husband.

  He came forth at a leisurely pace. The sound of his feet made her pause. Soon he stood on the other side of the mare. Though she detected no anger in him she grimaced when he spoke. “I shall help you.”

  Her head flew up, he picked up another brush and worked on the mare’s other side. The act shocked Marianne into dropping her own brush.

  She rushed to pick it up. “Are you not furious?”

  “Aye, but knowing you, ‘twould likely not matter.”

  She flinched, and her voice came out small as she thumbed the brush in her hand. “‘Twould matter.”

  He stopped his actions to stare at her. “Does it now? Ye run so wild that it seems ye care very little if I am humiliated or not.”

  “You said you loved my spirit.” A useless defense, yet it was all she had. The only thing he ever claimed to love about her, and she clung to it.

  “Aye, but spirit and foolishness are not quite the same, are they? Your temper, in front of my guests, good friends or not, will need to be controlled from now on.”

  She remained silent, knowing he was waiting for her to argue, but nothing came to her. She had no urge to go against him.

  She nodded instead. “Aye.”

  She looked up in time to see his brows had shot up. “You agree?”

  She nodded again. “Aye.”

  He swayed comically on his feet. She could not help the little smile on her lips. “Will wonders never cease? You agree with me?”

  She looked him straight in his blue eyes. “I do, but you must forgive me this one time. ‘Tis difficult to be constantly accused of having affairs with the men in the household.”

  “I never accused you of such a thing with Robert.”

  Marianne grumbled. “You had no need to. I saw right through you.”

  He said nothing at first, then nodded. “You are correct. I apologize.”

  She waited. “And?”

  The confusion in his eyes brought out her temper. She took a deep breath. Hadn’t she just agreed with him that her temper needed to be controlled?

  “You accused me of having a lover’s tryst
with Blaise.” She said, though despite her efforts her words came out in a hiss.

  Understanding dawned. “Ah. Aye, yes, I remember that now.”

  She waited for him to explain, but he continued to brush the pleased mare.

  “Will you not tell me why you feel the constant need to insult your wife?”

  He looked at her, sighed and lowered his brush. The mare turned to see what the trouble was but he walked around her nose towards Marianne and took her hand.

  “I shall assume that ‘tis no secret you already suspect Blaise’s parentage.”

  Her words to Blaise came back to haunt her. She flushed.

  “And I do not believe for one moment that you are of William’s blood.”

  More proof that she did indeed need to control herself.

  William expression turned curious at the pained look on her face. “Shall I continue?”

  “Yes,” Marianne said quickly. “Please, do. I am sorry, but I have mentioned this suspicion to Blaise already.”

  William’s lips thinned, displeasure clear on his face. Marianne wished she had the ability to see his thoughts.

  Finally, he replied and continued brushing the mare. “’Twas not a great secret, I suppose I cannot have you punished for asking about that which nearly everyone is aware.”

  She was silent, more ashamed of herself than she had ever been and she hugged herself. “Perhaps forcing you to wed me has been the only intelligent act of my life, as no other man would have had the patience, and I would have been sent to a convent.”

  He smiled at her attempt to lighten the dark mood. Her spirits lifted.

  William took a breath and spoke clearly. “Blaise is the son of my first wife, Alice, and Robert. She went to his bed shortly after our marriage.”

  Marianne gasped, a thousand questions swirling through her head.

  “You must forgive me, as any doubt I have ever expressed of your loyalty has stemmed from that event all those years ago.”

  “But why keep Blaise as your son, why allow Robert to continue to serve here at all?”

  His smile was laced with an old sadness. “I loved Alice, and I have no doubt that she returned that love. Her tryst with Robert was an error more on my part than hers.”

  Marianne cocked her head curiously, but he continued to speak before she could ask more questions.

  “I drove her to him.”

  Marianne did not believe that, but there was no venom in her voice when she spoke her thoughts. “Though you can be infuriating, for all your patience with me I find it difficult to believe that you could send any woman to another man’s bed.”

  “You would be surprised at what could send a wife into the arms of another man. Even a servant who offered her some slight kindness.” William stopped brushing as he spoke, and the mare nudged him for attention. He ignored the animal and took Marianne’s hand. They moved to a corner of the stable.

  He touched her cheek, gently with the back of his knuckles. Marianne enjoyed the feeling but her curiosity was not settled.

  “And, what could send a lady into the bed of a servant?”

  Her back was to the wall of the stable and he stood wonderfully close. The fear she felt at his oncoming punishment was no more.

  “How did you feel when we consummated our marriage?”

  The question brought her out of her haze. “I beg your pardon?”

  He continued as though he hadn’t heard her. “Did you feel loved? Were you satisfied?”

  His question embarrassed her and poured heat into her body. “‘Tis not the place to be stroking your ego.”

  He shook his head and smiled. She was certain he was smiling at her expense. “There is no ego involved. Answer the question.”

  Marianne shifted, blushed, and answered despite herself. “‘Twas very pleasant.”

  “Pleasant enough to put color in your cheeks, I see.” A slow, confidant smile lit up his face.

  Her cheeks only colored more. She nodded, then watched as his smile vanished.

  “Would it then shock you to learn that such intimacy can be used to cause pain? Not only of the heart, but true physical pain? Some men are skilled enough to use it as a form of torture.”

  Marianne laughed, once. William did not laugh with her, his expression heavy, and so she was silent.

  From what William had made her feel, in her heart and body, it seemed impossible that such an act could ever be used for torture. Yet he stood, determined and severe, telling her so.

  “How can that be?”

  “Young men are mostly guilty of this. They are as unskilled in the bed as their lovers or wives, and are unaware that to prevent this pain in the woman’s body, the passions of both parties needs to be stirred. ‘Tis thought to be normal for a woman not to enjoy the physical attentions of her husband.”

  Marianne suddenly knew what he was referring to. “Do you mean Alice?”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. “Aye. I had not known ‘twas possible we could be intimate without causing her some discomfort, and she believed I was causing her harm purposefully. Rather than hurt her further, I ceased to perform my duties as her husband. She took it to mean that I had ceased to love her as well.”

  William backed away from her to pace. Marianne’s body chilled now that the heat of him left her. Suddenly his back was to her. Her heart went out to him but she felt that he needed to speak without interruption.

  “Nicholas suggested a way in which I might learn the ways of the bed. A woman by the name of Bertha, a prostitute Nicholas favored, would teach me, and in my young foolishness I accepted.”

  He faced her again, the strain of retelling the story etched on his face. “Unfortunately she was also a favorite of Sir Ferdinand. A spiteful man. When he discovered I was paying for her services, he held the information over me until Alice died in childbirth. Bertha disappeared after and was never seen again.”

  Marianne exhaled, hearing the unsaid accusation toward the man who might have been her husband. Cold fear sprang into her chest for what she had barely escaped. “Good lord.”

  “Does it upset you, hearing this?”

  It did, but she found his honesty exhilarating. “Nay, you may continue.”

  He hesitated a moment, trying to find himself again. “Alice took her comfort in Robert, who convinced her that if I did indeed love her, I would not put her through such an ordeal. She confessed everything to me some weeks later, and in my weakness I could not reveal my own sins. But before Bertha disappeared I halted my appointments with her so that I might again be a faithful husband.”

  Marianne’s love for him swelled, but her heart broke within the same moment. “You forgave her, but why not send Robert away? Punish him for his part in this?”

  “I have punished him. Though you have likely not seen it, he is missing two fingers on his right hand.”

  Marianne’s hand shot to her throat. If William found pleasure in the telling of what he was capable of doing to another man, it did not show on his face.

  Now that she thought of it, she had seen Robert hiding his hand from her before. The first moment she saw him his arm was at such an angle that she could not see all of the fingers on his right hand.

  “I thought your skills with a blade was poor?” She asked.

  He nodded. “They are, but ‘twas not always the case, I once knew how to handle my weapons quite well. When Alice died, I foolishly ceased practicing, and there were no battles to be had anyway. I had not realized how poor I had become until just last year when I lifted a sword and found myself clumsy with it.”

  “Any other man would have killed the servant who touched his wife.” Despite his now calm manner, she was surprised that he had not done so.

  Again, William nodded. “As I explained, I felt some of the responsibility was my own. I sent Robert away, but he came to me a few years later, starving, during the winter months. I took pity on him and allowed him to return. Had I known Blaise would grow to look so much like him in mor
e than just the color of his hair, I would have given Robert to Bryce.” He shook his head. “‘Tis far too late for that, now.”

  Marianne went to him. She could bear the distance between them no longer. She took his larger hand into her smaller ones and kissed the knuckles there. Such a kind heart did not deserve this pain.

  She did not wish to hear more about his love for another woman, a love that had nearly destroyed him, but a part of her did wish to know, to have him lift the burdens from his chest and be free. Marianne wanted to be the one to take his pain from him. “Alice died in childbirth?”

  William nodded. “Yes, though not straight away, and while with child she never hinted that the baby might not be mine. After giving birth she held Blaise and saw the color of his hair.” He shook his head. “I could not deny them, I loved her and as far as I was concerned, he was my son.”

  “And you told her this?”

  “Aye.” He gave a hollow sort of laugh. “I could not even part with him so that he might become a page to another lord, but I did not wish for him to be influenced by Robert the way Alice had been. Bryce handled all of his training so that I would be near.”

  Marianne lifted herself up and kissed him. She meant for it to only be a gentle thing to reassure him that, unlike Alice, she would never be swayed, that she would always be loyal, always have faith in him, but he clutched her shoulders and pulled her close, crushing his mouth to hers.

  Marianne recognized the difference between this kiss and the kisses he gave to her when he tried to stir her interests in loving, or when they performed the act of making love.

  This kiss, while desperate, was filled with a different need. She reassured him by returning his brutal kiss and sliding her fingers in his hair. She opened her mouth to him and he groaned and plundered.

  When she released his lips, her breath was short. “Every son I bear will be of your blood. Alice was fortunate to have you.”

  He smiled that same sad smile at her, refusing to release her. “Blaise hardly believes so.” It was such a sad thing to say.

  Images of Blaise, angry and glaring at his father, came to mind, and Marianne knew she had the answer for why he would be so hostile towards the man who raised him as his own.