by Rizzo Rosko
She had hired those men because she knew them, almost. They were part of her mother’s clientele, and harmless enough, or so she had thought. They were to simply watch out for the man with orange hair and surprise him. They were not to beat him into unconsciousness, steal his clothing, and leave him for dead in a rain puddle.
Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. Perhaps the amount of money she had given them as payment was smaller than she had thought. “‘Tis my own fault for trusting them.” She supposed she should feel grateful they had not outright killed him in their attack, and not simply because then her plans would have been for naught. Elizabeth did not know how she would have been able to live with herself had a man’s blood been put on her hands.
Elizabeth turned away from the colourful glow rising from the East. Perhaps if she confessed…
She shook the thought away quickly. Nay. She could never tell him. To do so would risk everything she had worked hard to accomplish. She could never sell her body as her mother had, and what little she could grow behind that hut or steal from the unsuspecting travellers was not enough to ensure her survival.
Blaise Gray was known for his lonesome rides. Or, at least, Elizabeth imagined they were lonesome. Every time she had seen him he was always alone, not a knight, a paige, or even a dog with him. 'Twas a miracle no one had thought to rob him before. As reckless as he was, Lord knew he practically begged for trouble. Elizabeth had done him a favour. At least now he would be more aware of the dangers.
A knock sounded on the door, breaking her silence and startling her into a fearful jump. Dear Lord! What if a servant heard her speaking to herself on the other side of the door? With a trembling voice she called, “Who is there?”
“‘Tis I, Lady Elizabeth.” Olma's voice carried softly to her ears.
Elizabeth sighed. She had not lived at Graystone for long, but she knew already that Olma kept to herself and did not search for gossip as other servants did. Still, she would have to remember to keep her thoughts inside her head and not speak them out loud.
Elizabeth allowed the girl entrance, and then Olma proceeded to bustle about and dress her in the green gown she had worn her first day in the castle.
Lord Gray had promised to find her some old gowns that belonged to his mother and have them hemmed to fit her, but until then she would have to wear her green one. She hoped the other gowns would be ready soon, for she had no desire to use hers any longer than necessary. She wished to preserve it. It had, after all, been a gift from her mother.
"Olma, where is Lord Blaise?" Elizabeth asked while the girl worked on the strings of her corset.
Olma paused briefly before the tightening at her back continued. "‘e is usually with the men at the gate or tending to the mews."
"The mews? Are there not men who will do that for him?"
"Aye, but ‘e prefers to go down anyway, Lady Elizabeth."
Elizabeth's spine tingled as Olma referred to her as a lady. 'Twas not the first time she had heard it since arriving, but she never grew weary of the sound.
‘Twas what she had always dreamed of, to be what she truly was, more than a peasant girl who struggled to feed herself.
The delicious tingle soon vanished, replaced with a cloud of worry and fear. Though Blaise would never learn of her part in his near death, and, God willing, Lord Gray would never learn it either, Blaise’s obvious suspicion frightened her.
'Twas impossible that he could know of it, though her fear had almost gotten the better of her when he stood up, naked in her hut, and demanded to know how it was that she knew his name. Her fear had nearly prevented her from giving a valid response until she recalled that his hair would make the perfect excuse. After all, 'twas what she used to send those men after him in the first place.
Though she was certain her lie had worked, she still caught his narrowed glances that were surely meant to be secret, and the distrust that lay across his face as he observed her.
Anger twisted her guts. He acted so distrustful of her when he and his family obviously hid things of her own past from her.
Elizabeth would rectify that. She would be with Lady Gray and accompany her throughout whatever the lady decided to do during the day. Eventually, Elizabeth would make it known that she wished to become better acquainted with the young lord whom she had saved.
She knew better than to attempt any romantic involvement. She would befriend him. Then she would hint and pry until the answers of her father were revealed to her. 'Twould be difficult, but she would persist until all that anger and suspicion in his soul melted away.
She was not some evil fiend out to steal his wealth, and she would not be thought of as one simply because he chose to dislike her. She merely wished to live a life outside of that hovel where she had been raised, clean, and safe from predators of both the animal and human variety.
She would befriend Blaise, gain his trust, and in return he would be at ease knowing his home had not been invaded by a creature of foul intent. Elizabeth could hardly wait for their next meeting.
***
Blaise lounged while his father paced. Marianne stood by and watched her husband with her hands clasped above her bulging belly.
"The girl is six and twenty. Too old to be yer daughter. Ye know this," she said.
Blaise shuddered and lifted his goblet to his lips to chase away the chill. He thanked the Lord for that small miracle. The fact that the woman who had rescued him, and for whom he had experienced physical lust, no matter how brief, was not his sister, was a tremendous relief.
Still, his father continued to pace. When Eliza revealed who her father was, next she spoke of the identity of her mother.
When she explained that her mother was Bertha Hollow, the same prostitute whom William had once visited in his youth, panic had entered his eyes until she revealed her age. She had been born a good year before his father ever went to Bertha for her services.
As Blaise had not been in the solar at the time to learn of this, he had to be told later. Terror chilled his blood at the thought until Marianne used calm logic to explain how Eliza could not have been mistaken. If she insisted that Ferdinand was her father, then her father he must be.
“She claimed that her mother took her from her father before she had been born and that her mother went into hiding later. I had assumed Bertha had been killed by Ferdinand when we stopped hearing from her.” William said.
Marianne’s eyes were downcast. “That poor woman. To have to hide away from Ferdinand her entire life.”
“Aye,” William stopped his pacing and sighed.
Blaise shrugged, refusing to let the tale bring any pity out of him. “I still distrust the daughter.”
His suspicion aside, he could hardly believe his rescuer was older than he by almost a full year. His step mother was also older, and Blaise's original betrothed until he had written her a letter calling off their marriage.
Insulted, the red-headed wench had gone and kidnapped his father and married him instead, even if only by accident. It seemed Blaise would be forever haunted by older women in his life.
William nodded at Blaise’s earlier statement. "Aye, I know ye do, but ‘tis not all that concerns me. If she truly is the daughter of Ferdinand then she has no doubt inherited some of his more dubious personality traits."
Blaise found himself under the hard blue stare of his father. "I believe this would be a fine time for yer suspicious nature to run free. Keep on yer guard around her."
"William! 'Tis nonsense that a person can inherit any bad behaviours and ye well know it. If it were true, I would be a gambling addict,” Marianne said. “Elizabeth saved Blaise's life. We owe her more than our suspicion."
"My dear, I am shocked that ye so eagerly defend the girl, considering yer hatred for her father."
Blaise had heard this story more times than he could count, and so he stopped paying attention to the bickering of the older people in the room. Blaise's true father was not the man standing in the r
oom with him at all, but a mere groom who worked in the stables. Robert. Despite his lack of education or wealth, the man had still managed to deceive Blaise's mother, the first Lady Gray, Alice, into believing her husband felt no love for her because of their constantly botched intimacy.
She allowed herself to be fooled by a man far beneath her, letting a mere servant seduce and bed her. William, unaware of his wife's betrayal, sought the help of a prostitute named Bertha to teach him the ways of the marriage bed. It would allow him and his wife to perform their matrimonial duties without William causing any harm to Alice.
Thankfully Alice confessed to her sin shortly after the affair. Unfortunately, she already had the child of another man in her womb. She gave birth to Blaise months later. She died during the ordeal, but William, who loved them both so dearly, raised a bastard son of a servant as his own anyway.
The groom, Robert, was sent away, only to return years later, cold and starving during the winter months. William took pity on the man and allowed him to stay as a groom once more.
As Blaise grew older, he too allowed himself to be fooled by the man just as his mother had been. Believing Robert to be the victim of William's lack of love for Alice, Blaise had sympathized more with a servant than the man who had reared him. He had allowed himself to be used, not realizing until Robert kidnapped Marianne and sold her to Ferdinand that he had been tricked.
Robert had only taken such an interest in Blaise in the hopes that one day, after William's death, Blaise would lift him from his status as a groom and allow him luxuries other men of such low stations could never even dream of.
William did not hold Blaise responsible, and when they went to Ferdinand to retrieve Marianne from his clutches, Blaise was forced to take action when the man pulled out a dagger and rushed to kill his father and Marianne.
Did Eliza know that Blaise was responsible for the death of her father? Did she even know what sort of man her father had been? Blaise knew that if he would ever have any peace in his own home, he would need to find the answers quickly.
William approached Marianne and gently took her hand from its resting spot on her belly, though she still frowned and turned her head away in a pout. "Do not trouble yerself, my dear. I am not accusing the girl of anything, merely giving warning to stay on guard."
Marianne's face softened. "I like her. She reminds me of myself."
"'Tis a dangerous notion ye speak of," Blaise said behind his goblet. Marianne spun her vicious eyes on him. Blaise knew that if not for her condition she might have leapt across the chamber to brawl with him.
'Twas just as well that a knock sounded at the door.
“Enter,” William called. Olma opened the door and curtsied to the people in the room. Blaise's eyes were drawn to the vision behind the servant girl. The same gown as before, yet she still appeared as serene and heavenly as when his eyes first witnessed her in it.
She was too beautiful, too innocent to be involved in some devious plot to worm her way into his family and this castle.
He shook his head to clear it, willing the distrust for her to bubble within him once more. Thoughts such as that were exactly why he needed to keep his defences strong against her sinful smile. Her eyes were half lidded, and her full mouth parted seductively, as though inviting him to kiss it, to thrust his tongue inside. Surely she could not know the silent message she was sending him at that moment?
He shook himself again. Fool. She is the daughter of a prostitute. She is perfectly aware of her behaviour.
Blaise returned her lusty smile with a snarl. Oddly displeased with her open shock and the way she stepped back.
"Blaise!"
He cringed at Marianne's voice shrieking in his ear. She glared down at him with her hands fisted on her hips.
He met her stare of annoyance with a playful smile, refusing to be moved. "Aye, Marianne?"
She made a sound of displeasure and walked forward to greet Eliza with a warm smile. Blaise watched them eagerly.
***
Elizabeth found herself being embraced by Lady Gray with all the warmth and comfort of a sister. Elizabeth grew warm under the treatment and promptly forgot about the hateful glare Blaise had sent her.
When Olma had first brought her to the door of the solar, shock greeted her at the sounds of the voices within. "I thought Blaise was at the mews?" She had asked.
"'e was, last I heard, milady," the small girl said timidly, and Elizabeth decided that Olma truly hadn't known Blaise returned to the castle.
Olma raised her hand to announce their presence with a soft knock, but Elizabeth grabbed her hand. "Wait."
She pressed her ear to the door, eager for any information that could aid her in making Graystone her permanent home.
“Milady! What are ye—?”
Elizabeth hissed, waving her arm at the girl as though she were a fly. “Shh!”
Olma twittered about nervously. “Lady Elizabeth, please, ye cannot…‘Tis dangerous to spy on the lord. ‘e can ‘ave us removed from the keep.” She whispered, but Elizabeth continued waving her off.
What she heard struck her harshly. Aside from Lady Gray, neither Lord Gray nor Blaise trusted her.
How could this be? She was certain her demeanour gave no reason to have anyone suspect her. Did they believe her to be responsible for Blaise’s attack?
No. A moment longer of listening and while she had no definite answer, she was certain they did not have any thoughts that she could have arranged for Blaise’s attack.
‘Twas relieving, but what had Lord Gray meant when he spoke of her father? So they did know Sir Ferdinand. Elizabeth would find out what sort of girl they thought she was based on a man she did not know.
She allowed Olma to knock, and they entered the solar together. She straightened her back, and prepared to smile at the lord of the castle, hoping to win his affections enough to convince him that he had not invited a dangerous woman into his home.
Instead her eyes were drawn to Blaise, sitting on a stool and leaning his back against the stone wall, a goblet in his hand and hair windswept. He must have come into this room straight from riding his horse. Perhaps his experience with the men Elizabeth had hired had not convinced him to take safer precautions when it came to his daily routines after all.
Regardless, his blue eyes captured her and held her in place. The innocent smile she had meant for Lord William turned into a wanting thing devoted solely to Blaise.
Her memory conjured the image of his naked form, standing before her, dangerous, and demanding. Elizabeth's breath left her, and her lips parted so that she might breathe easier.
Blaise returned her gaze with a fierce longing she had never seen before, as though he too was captured in whatever spell had ensnared her.
Then he glared at her.
Elizabeth stepped back, shocked at the hostility she found in his blue eyes. Fool! She admonished herself. The man believes ye are out to steal from him and ye look at him in such a manner? 'Tis no wonder he chooses not to trust ye!
Then Lady Gray rushed forth and put her arms about Elizabeth's shoulder, holding her so close that the belly between them bumped her and pushed her away again.
Elizabeth smiled and pulled away from the lady of the castle and curtsied to her, the one person who seemed to believe she was worth trusting, that she was worth more than peasant. Tears welled in her eyes, stinging their dry surfaces.
Stunned sympathy moulded Lady Gray’s cheeks. "Whatever is the matter?"
Elizabeth shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I have not been embraced like that since the death of my mother." Never had she expected a gentle bred lady to do so for her either. It brought up old regrets and made her wish that she and her mother had not fought so often before she died so horribly.
Lady Gray pulled Elizabeth into another embrace and held her tightly. Lady Gray threw a dirty look to Blaise, who turned his head away from the scene. Could he perhaps feel guilty over his words about her now that she was in an
emotional state?
If he sought her honesty and would trust her for it, she would give it to him. She would spill all of her secrets, or at least, most of them, if it meant she could keep her new position in the castle.
She sent him another smile, though this one lacked the lust that thumped through her earlier. She squashed it down and replaced it with the excitement of her new plan. All she needed was to carry it out.
Marianne took her cheeks in both hands and turned her head so that she might face the older woman. "I am sorry for yer mother, but I have some news that will cheer ye. To celebrate Blaise's safe return, we have invited friends and family to Graystone to feast. There will be music and dancing to put a smile on yer lips, and 'tis also likely there will be a handsome man who will fall in love with a pretty girl such as yerself."
Elizabeth's face heated beyond anything she ever felt. Hope presented itself, stretched, and sprang around like an excited child. Being in love and married would ensure her comfort indefinitely. "Do ye think so?"
"Marianne! The woman's been in this castle less than a fortnight and yer already trying to wed her?" Blaise barked, glaring.
Lady Gray stuck her nose in the air in a haughty manner. "Simply because ye choose not to wed does not mean that everyone else wishes to be a hermit."
Blaise crossed his arms, his sour mood radiating from him. "I am no hermit,"
He was pouting!
William shook his head and left the solar, mumbling about finding Edward.
Lady Gray returned her attention to Elizabeth, ignoring Blaise who still growled like a cat in the corner. "This celebration shall not be for at least another fortnight. We haven't even sent the messengers to inform William's friends of our intent. Ye surely shall have a new gown ready by then."
Elizabeth glowed. Then like a disappointed bird, her puffed feathers shrank back into herself as her glee disappeared. "Milady, if ye introduce me, I shall surely make an embarrassment of myself and ye. I am not knowledgeable in the ways of courtly love, or manners, or—"
