Lady Thief: A Scarlet Novel

by Gaughen, A. C.

  With more speed than I thought he had in him, he grabbed my arms and hauled me up before him. He let my mouth go but held me still. “Get on the bed,” he told me.

  “Are you daft?” I wailed. “No!”

  His fingers pinched my arms, squeezing overtight. His face turned into a sneer. “Tell me, my dear, what did you think my reaction would be to losing this competition? Just hand you over to your hero with a smile on my face? Let you live as lord and lady of the manor?”

  “The annulment—”

  “Getting rid of you seems quite thrilling provided I have something left. But I don’t, and you, Eleanor’s favorite, will buy me something more. So get on the bed, Marian, because I will never annul this marriage, and in a few minutes, it won’t even be possible.”

  He let me go, which seemed a fool thing to do. I ran for the door but he were too close, and he slammed against my back, trapping my hand between me and the door.

  I wailed in pain.

  His hands caught my waist, running up to squeeze my bits. “Since when did I ever mind chasing you, love?” he growled in my ear.

  I smashed my head back against his and got an inch of space, running to the window, trying to get my knife on the shutter. He caught up and pinned me to the ledge so I bent forward, straining for the knife.

  “I’m not Eleanor’s favorite,” I grunted through my teeth. “What would she ever give you for me?”

  His hands ran up my back and caught the back of my gown. He jerked hard and the thing tore. I pulled back from the shutter to try and hit him, but his giant paw on my neck heaved me forward. “Stay,” he snapped. “Foolish little thief. You know nothing of who you really are. Why, Eleanor and Richard will do anything to keep you safe.”

  His hands were on my naked back, and he pressed a kiss to the long scar that ran from my shoulder to my spine that his sword had given me months ago.

  “Lovely,” he murmured as my skin crawled over my bones.

  The extra weight had pushed me forward, and my hand closed on the hilt of the knife. I couldn’t push up—he were too heavy on my back and my good hand had the knife in it. I pulled it under me. “Eleanor wouldn’t give you anything for me. And what the hell does Richard have to do with it?”

  “You don’t think?” he mused. “You haven’t figured this out, clever thief?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Your father, Marian.”

  “My father?” I asked.

  He were pulling at my skirts and trying to drag them up while he were still pushing me down. I kicked out vicious, trying to hit him. Gisbourne laughed. “You know. Don’t you? Coeur de Leon,” he said to me.

  Lionheart.

  My blood started to drain from my skin. “What?” I asked.

  “I know your parents said something about it. Didn’t they?” His voice were taunting me now.

  “N-no.”

  “I heard them say you’re not their daughter. Whose daughter are you, Marian?” he asked, chuckling. “Who do you think could place you in a noble household? Who would?”

  My good hand curled into a fist around the knife, shaking and waiting for the right moment even as I felt his hands on my legs. “What do you know, Guy?”

  “I know who you are.” I were still and he leaned close to whisper in my ear. “I know who you’ve always been. Whose blood is really in your veins. I know why it would be the most mortal of sins to spill your blood. Why Eleanor won’t allow her son to harm you.”

  “Say it,” I snapped.

  He laughed. “Who hid you, Marian?”

  “Eleanor,” I guessed.

  He nodded. “Why?”

  “Do you think I know that! Tell me, Gisbourne!”

  “Because you’re a bastard,” he told me, pulling my skirts higher.

  “Whose?”

  “I already told you that.”

  My head swam, and my knees went soft. Coeur de Leon. “That’s not true.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “I would have heard of it!” I said. “Everyone would have heard of it!”

  “Eleanor’s not that foolish. You would never be allowed to rule, of course, but a bastard princess—that’s still a considerable power. Eleanor knows better than anyone how to wield a child. She uses her own like chess pieces.”

  “But he weren’t—he weren’t even king—” I were struggling to breathe right.

  Gisbourne chuckled, and he lifted his hips off me to pull my skirt up. It were a tiny bit of space, but it were the moment I needed.

  I sucked in a breath and twisted hard, slashing out with the knife.

  It hit him in the shoulder, sliding a red ribbon of blood across his collarbone, and he jumped back with a howl. I ran to the door and opened it, angling the knife at him as he came closer. He scowled and stopped.

  “Mary,” I snapped. She appeared.

  “Fetch the earl. Quick. And I will be needing a new dress for dinner.”

  “Y-yes, my lady,” she said, looking between me and my husband. She went.

  Gisbourne stayed where he were, looking at the knife. “You call me a fool so often,” I snapped. “But you just gave me your best bit of information. If I mean as much to Eleanor or the king as you say, she won’t never let you force me, Gisbourne. I thought I’d have to run far but all I have to do is go down the hall, isn’t that right?”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’d protect you. But if you go to Eleanor, if you aren’t in my bed by morning light, ready to do your willing duty as my wife, I will raze Leaford to the ground with everyone inside it. And that will only be my first action.”

  My courage faltered.

  “Everything has been stolen from me, Marian, since I was a boy. You are my only chance of having Richard pay me any mind at all, and I won’t let anyone, least of all your mewling pup of an outlaw, take another damn thing from me. Besides, you really think Prince John is finished with you, Marian? With your dashing hero? He will crush you both. He will make you wish you never won this so-called victory. He will have his underhanded, vindictive way, and if you ever forget that, look to your hand.”

  He were silent for a moment.

  “He will make you pay for this, Marian.”

  “My lady?” the earl asked, appearing slightly breathless in the doorway. He looked me over and frowned.

  “Your Grace,” I said. “It seems I am in need of your assistance. Would you mind detaining my husband so I may change for dinner?”

  He folded his arms. “With pleasure.”

  “Just remember, Marian,” Gisbourne told me, sitting in a chair by the fire. “You have till morning.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The earl insisted on escorting me to dinner. I wore the grandest piece I had—a blue velvet dress sewn with scrolling silver thread over a silvery kirtle so thin it were near sheer. Mary brushed my hair and left the pieces free and loose around my face. It were useless to try and keep them back.

  “May I ask what happened?” Winchester whispered to me.

  I were shivering. “I was very grateful for your help, your Grace.”

  He nodded. “My pleasure. I am assuming, then, that our new sheriff should not know of this?”

  “As much as I would like for him to kill my husband, murder doesn’t speak well for a sheriff.”

  Winchester nodded. “I’m glad you called for me.”

  My hand tightened on his arm at his kindness. “Thank you, your Grace.”

  “May I ask what happens in the morning?” he said. “He was clearly threatening you.”

  I shivered, and his jaw worked. I couldn’t say the words.

  He cleared his throat. “I will post a guard at your chamber, my lady. Whatever he’s threatened you with will not happen tomorrow. Beyond that I cannot make promises, but from what I’ve heard it doesn’t take you long to figure out a plan, does it?”

  My chest drew a shaky breath. “No, my lord. It doesn�
��t. Can your guard see that he doesn’t leave the castle grounds tomorrow?” I asked. I weren’t sure if having the earl’s guard there would be the same as telling Eleanor, but I wouldn’t risk his ire.

  The earl gave a sharp nod.

  I felt quiet, my heart and head at odds. Had I achieved anything? I had purchased a few hours, perhaps—but I didn’t doubt Gisbourne. If I asked Eleanor to intercede, Leaford and all the innocent people there would burn. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t stay.

  And what of Gisbourne’s other words, claiming I were the daughter of the king of England? It couldn’t bare be true. And yet, I were someone’s child, and it didn’t seem I were the Leafords’. It were possible, then, that all of the mysteries I’d seen at court would be answered with this one thing, but it didn’t feel like the truth in my bones.

  Then again, nothing much did feel right anymore. In the flimsy shoes and floating dress, walking through Nottingham Castle like I were meant to be there, I didn’t know myself much at all. Rob were sheriff. I were Gisbourne’s wife, and not in a small way, but in a forever way. He’d never let me go, no matter what I threatened. I didn’t much doubt that he never meant to annul the marriage at all, and I were a fool to have ever thought he would.

  I thought of every moment of pain, every threat, every leer he had brought upon me. I had borne it all—for what? For the ashes of his promise at my feet. I were a fool to have ever believed him. I were a fool in every way.

  My life had become something I couldn’t fair recognize.

  I walked into the hall, and people were everywhere. The seats were gone, save for a single table to make the royals untouchable. The rest of the food were heaped on the tables, and people thronged around it, a feast in true. Music were playing, a lovely tune with laughter and chatter twining through it.

  “Your pardon, your Grace, but may I steal the lady?”

  I turned and a short, small laugh came out of me. It were Much, clean and kitted up and looking older and stronger than I’d ever known him.

  Winchester bowed and relinquished me. Much bent his arm to me, and I grinned and wrapped my arm around his, trying to forget what Gisbourne could do to my friends to make me do his bidding. “You look very handsome,” I told him, and he beamed.

  “Come along, everyone’s here,” he told me. He pointed to John and Bess and Godfrey, and I’d never been so happy to see the inside of the hall.

  John hugged my waist, pulling me off my feet and careful not to crush my hand. When he put me down I went to Bess, looking about unsure and shy. She had one hand on her stomach. She met my eye and frowned a little. “Am I meant to curtsy?” she asked. “I don’t know much about curtsies.”

  I rushed forward and hugged her. “You’re family,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re one of us now.”

  She hugged me back, tight. “Thank you,” she whispered back.

  Godfrey were next, and he bowed over my hand and kissed it. John made a face. “See, you can’t do things like that if you’re meant to replace me,” John said. “Scar’s head gets much too big.”

  “Then maybe you should learn a thing or two about manners from me,” Godfrey told him with a grin. “Lady Scar, you look beautiful.”

  “Only I’m allowed to tell her that,” said a voice in my ear. My heart broke painful open and I spun around as Rob’s arms circled my waist, hugging tight against him, desperate to hold on to him. He hugged me, rubbing my back, dragging his fingers over every silver swirl.

  “Is it over?” he murmured to me. “Is it really over?”

  Tears rose up and my throat went tight. I pulled back to look him in the eye. “You’re sheriff. The people have nothing to fear.”

  Our faces swayed closer, and I shivered again. I would never have this, the right to kiss him in public.

  We didn’t kiss, but a faster tune began, and Rob took my good hand. “Please dance with me.”

  “I never learned the fancy dances,” I told him, frowning.

  “I don’t care how we do it,” he said with a grin. “I just want you in my arms.”

  He tugged me along to where a throng of common folk were dancing, and, careful to tuck my hurt hand up on his shoulder, he pulled me in close. We danced along with them, jumping and stepping fast and foolish. My short, funny hair flew about my face, and my heart beat as fast as my laughter, all the while I stared into Rob’s eyes.

  He slowed down and pulled me out of the thick of the leaping throngs, dancing closer, rubbing his cheek along mine. “Marry me when the sun sets,” he breathed.

  I raised my head a little. “What?”

  “If your marriage is annulled when the prince leaves tomorrow morning, marry me by sunset. I can’t wait longer, Scarlet, I don’t have it in me. I have missed you every minute, and I don’t want to see another sunrise without you as my wife.”

  My heart broke, and water spilled out of my eyes. “What if it’s not annulled?” I breathed.

  “Then I’ll wait. Every sunset, every day. I’ll count them all until you’re mine. My perfect wife. My only wife,” he said. “The only heart that’s meant for mine.” His nose dragged on my face. “I only feel like a hero when you’re with me, Scarlet. I feel like I have a destiny greater than pain and hurt when you’re in my arms.”

  I tugged him closer, tucking my head into the bend of his neck to wipe my tears on him. “Me too,” I said.

  “Scarlet.”

  “Mmm.”

  “That was me asking you to marry me, you know.”

  My eyes pressed shut. “Yes,” I whispered. “That’s all I want.”

  “Oh, hell,” someone said, and I looked up to see Winchester standing behind Rob. Rob turned and I wiped my face overquick. “I’m trying to wait, but I have to accuse Lady Leaford of hoarding you, Sheriff,” he said.

  Rob held me tucked under one arm, and bowed his head. “Your Grace,” he greeted.

  Winchester looked more like a boy than I’d ever seen him. He gripped Rob’s shoulder and shook a little, laughing. “Your Grace! Do you know how odd it is to not be able to say that back to you? Though I’ll much prefer it to the names you were calling me when the healer was working on you.”

  Rob winced. “He told you that?”

  Winchester shrugged. “I’ve been called worse. You did very well today, Locksley. The master at arms would have been proud.”

  “Master at arms?” I questioned.

  “That’s how we know each other,” Rob told me. “We were pages together for a time.”

  Glimpsing the regal tilt of Eleanor’s head, I slipped out from Rob’s arm. “Well, you two should talk.” I smiled at Rob. “I’ll find you.”

  He smiled back at me, fingers dragging along my hand as I let him go. Winchester kissed my hand, and I went to find Eleanor.

  She weren’t where I had seen her. Instead Isabel were there, frowning at me. “Lady Leaford,” she said.

  “Your Highness,” I said, nodding my head to her.

  “Eleanor has called for you. She went to say good night to my husband but asked you to escort her back to her rooms.”

  I looked to the royal table, where Eleanor stood beside Prince John.

  “That was a disgusting display this afternoon,” she told me, folding her arms. “You may as well have spat in Guy’s face.”

  My eyes drifted shut and I shook my head. “Excuse me, your Highness.”

  I went to the side of the royal table and waited. Eleanor nodded to me and came closer, and I curtsied low to her. “Up, up, my dear,” she told me. I stood, and she twined our arms together, clasping my hand. “Come,” she said. “You shall walk me to my rooms and ask me your many questions.”

  Dumb, I stared at her.

  “You do have questions, don’t you?”

  “Most that I’m frightened to ask,” I said.

  She laughed. “Fear. Something I have yet to see from you, Lady Leaford.”

  “That title’s not mine, is it?”

  She drew in a breath, and it m
ade her look older as we moved into the dark hallway, lit by torches and moon. “No. The lord and lady Leaford are not your natural parents.”

  “Who are?”

  “A very beautiful blacksmith’s daughter, and my son. King Richard the Lionhearted.”

  I stared at her, her proud chin, her white neck, her clear, steady blue gaze. The moon made her pale skin look like she belonged to the other world. “I’m your granddaughter.”

  Her fingers squeezed mine. “You are.”

  “But Prince John—he hates me.”

  Her eyebrow arched high. “Well. My children cleave very close or hate very powerfully. It’s only because Richard teased him so as a child. It isn’t your fault.”

  “How does he know who I am, and I don’t?”

  She sighed. “He was near when it happened. Terrible penchant for eavesdropping, that boy. He knew it all from the start.”

  “Why did he send Gisbourne to marry me?”

  “Because my John controlled Isabel, and since he was very young, Gisbourne loved Isabel. He never had the status to marry her, of course, and when she married, Gisbourne followed her. And John took full advantage of such a connection. You see, Richard was never meant to inherit the throne. He had two older brothers, but death befell them both. When Richard was crowned, John wasn’t happy—he and Richard hardly got along. John knew about you—he wanted some way to control his brother, even a small one. So he ordered Gisbourne to marry you. John is many terrible things, but he is a master manipulator.”

  “That’s no good thing,” I told her.

  Her head tilted. “It can be. A king must see not just the hills before him, but the length of the road at large. John can see many roads at once; he understands how long it can take to achieve a goal. When he has a good heart, he can be a masterful ruler. But without it, impatience and selfishness cause him to use his gifts poorly.”

  A cold weight circled my heart. “He can never be king.”

  Eleanor frowned. “He will be king, Marian. I wish I could keep Richard as king forever, and I will keep him there as long as I can, but he is like his brothers—too good, proud, and brave for a long life. John is careful; he will outlive Richard, and he will take the throne. I just need to make sure that when he does, he becomes the extremely capable ruler he should be. And that he doesn’t so alienate the common opinion in the meantime that they riot when he’s crowned.”