Lady Deception

by Rizzo Rosko

  Lord Gray stepped forward, as though he wished to follow. Lady Gray stalled him with a hand on his shoulder. "We shall see to our other guests. Everyone seems to still be sleeping off their ale and will likely want William's company and their meals soon, but, before ye meet him, ye may wish to dress in something proper." She reminded, eyeing Eliza’s garments with her lips curled up.

  Elizabeth's face heated, and she nodded, allowing Blaise to walk her out of the solar and back to her chamber where she would get a maid to help her with one of her new gowns.

  ***

  "I wish to be there to set Nicholas straight. Last night was different, we hadn't known Blaise offered to wed her then." William said the second Blaise and Eliza left. "Nicholas can't take the girl if she is to be my daughter."

  Marianne rubbed his shoulders and lifted herself on her toes to kiss his cheek. She wished she had a proper answer to give that would satisfy both him and Nicholas, but she had none.

  She kept her voice soft, hoping to save what could be a crumbling friendship. "Consider that he has just discovered he has been a father for all of these years. He wishes to make amends for not knowing of her."

  "Of course he did not know of her! Bertha was a prostitute, Eliza could have been the child of any man her mother had taken to her bed. Had it not been for the mark upon Eliza’s neck we would have continued to assume she was Ferdinand’s."

  Marianne nodded. "Aye, 'tis true. But we know now, and we did tell her of it. And though Blaise's explanation is late, Nicholas knows as well. Despite all of his—” Marianne stopped herself, could think of no gentler words to phrase it, and raced ahead. “—tales of carnal adventures, Nicholas never had any children, 'tis only natural he would wish to know her."

  William sighed in defeat. "Can he not know her without taking her?"

  Marianne moved so that she stood in front of him instead of behind, though she kept her hands firmly on his shoulders. "Try to see it from his view. To him, we have just shown him that he has a daughter, and in the same breath we are the ones taking her from him."

  William grumbled. "'Tis not our fault that Blaise cannot make up his mind until the last possible moment."

  Marianne kissed his cheek and rested her head against his chest, letting his heartbeat soothe her and the impatient kicking in her belly. "We shall have to hope that when they announce their intent, Nicholas will see reason."

  Marianne only hoped that everything would be as simple as she made it sound.

  ***

  Blaise opened the door for Elizabeth, allowing her to step into the room where such a fantastic party had been held the night before.

  'Twas quiet now. The musicians had either gone home or were sleeping somewhere, but all that stood in the great hall were a few sewing maids. Hardly fit for a private conversation, but Elizabeth did not mind. The news of her parentage would soon be spreading about at any rate.

  Nicholas, the man whom all claimed to be her father, sat on a long bench, facing away from the doors and staring into his bowl. He did not seem to hear the doors opening behind him as he did not move from his position.

  'Twas just as well. Elizabeth did not wish to have his eyes staring at her as she approached.

  Blaise pushed the door shut, the resounding slam of the heavy wood echoed in the hall. Nicholas’ body jerked. He lifted himself and turned his head towards the sound. At the sight of her he rushed to his feet.

  Elizabeth's cheeks heated. She tossed a glare to Blaise, whose face expressed that he did not know why she would be upset with him.

  Foolish men, the lot of them. Elizabeth straightened her back and moved towards the other side of the table.

  Nicholas’s stayed fixed on her as she approached, as though afraid she would vanish if he blinked. He studied her, drank her in, as though she were some legendary treasure that was his to claim.

  Eliza’s shoulders tensed. His stare unnerved her. He did not look at her the same way sir Ian had the night before, his eyes were soft, and a wishful smile tugged his lips as he observed her, but she did not know this man. That alone was enough to make her feel strange under his gaze.

  He did not sit until she did. Blaise remained by the door, and Elizabeth released a relieved sigh for both the space he gave, and his presence.

  She straightened further under Nicholas's proud gaze. His eyes shone as he stared at her, his eyes moving up and down, to her hair, face, and hands. Everything in his gaze spoke of possession.

  Finally, he spoke. "Hello."

  Elizabeth nodded. Without her permission her head ducked under his stare. She could not face him. "Hello."

  His mouth quirked. "Ye look so like yer mother."

  Just like that, he recaptured her attention with the words he already spoke when they first met. The stiffness in her back melted away, and she leaned forward. A hundred questions dropped into her head. "How well were ye acquainted with her? Did ye love her? Why did ye leave her?"

  He raised his hands to stall her. "Patience, please. I was well acquainted with her, but what is this talk of love?"

  Elizabeth cocked her head. Then the only possible reason for his question made itself known to her. As quickly as the warmth came, ‘twas banished by frost.

  "Did ye not love her?"

  He shifted, as though his seat made him uncomfortable. "Bertha was a prostitute. I favoured her, treated her well, surely, but of course I did not love her."

  Her heart fluttered like an injured butterfly. She should have known better than to hope. Last night she learned that simply being of noble birth did not make a man noble, why should the man sitting across from her be any different?

  Elizabeth's mouth pressed into a thin line. She sat away from the man before her and straightened her back once again. "I see. Then what would yer interest in me be?"

  He sputtered. "Ye are my daughter."

  For a moment she wished that were not the case. "May I see yer mark again?"

  Sir Nicholas lifted his tunic sleeve. Eliza inspected the mark that sat there, so innocently, as though it were not destroying everything she thought she knew about herself.

  Her mother had once been given a small mirror from a wealthy man she took to her bed. Lord knew that the mirror might even have come from Sir Nicholas himself. 'Twas one of the gifts she had received before she ran from Sir Ferdinand and was forced to accept a more common clientele.

  Elizabeth had looked into the mirror several times before and had seen the clouded image of her sword that pointed down on her neck. Sir Nicholas bore the same mark. ‘Twas identicle down to the color and size.

  Her cold eyes found his. "How are we to be certain that 'tis not some coincidence we bare the same mark?"

  "Ye require more proof?" Nicholas gaped before collecting himself, his eyes growing serious. "Very well, 'tis a mark that my own father possessed on his leg, and his father before him on his shoulder. Ye bare a mark that has been in my family for generations. 'Tis impossible that ye are not mine."

  Her fingers dug into the table with her next question. "And, should ye find that ye have sired another bastard, a son, with a woman of wealth, will ye throw me away for him?"

  "Good God no! Of course not. What would cause ye to believe such a thing?"

  Elizabeth could not bring herself to feel any sympathy at the stunned horror on his face. All she could feel was the anger and insult that the man before her, like all the others, used her mother for his own pleasure. "Ye have no love for my mother."

  "What would that have to do with ye?"

  He truly did not understand. A hand gently touched her shoulder, and she knew that Blaise stood behind her. She couldn't have been happier to have him there. Had he not been she may have leapt over the table to strangle her new father.

  She stood. She'd had enough of listening to this man and wished to go away with Blaise.

  Nicholas stood as well. "I mean to take ye home with me."

  Her body froze. Blaise's arm wound tightly around her waist. He relea
sed a tiny growl.

  "Go with ye?" The thought horrified her. She would have taken a step back had Blaise not been holding onto her so tightly. "I will go nowhere with ye."

  His face fell in sadness, his shoulders did the same. "Why ever not?"

  She did not wish to look into his eyes and feel pity, so she turned her head away. "Ye are just like the rest of them. No better than all those men who thought they could treat my mother cruelly simply because they paid her. I will have naught to do with ye, I will stay here, and I will marry Blaise."

  Elizabeth did not bother to curtsy to him before she walked back out of the Great Hall, nor did she pay any mind to the sewing maids who stopped their chores to openly listen.

  Sir Nicholas, her father, did not attempt to follow them, for which she was glad.

  The moment she stepped out of the Great Hall and the doors were shut behind her, she turned into Blaise's chest and released her anger and frustration in a flood of tears.

  He pulled her into a corner so that her scene would be less noticeable to scurrying servants, but she did not care if they saw. Blaise's hands rubbed soothing circles against her back, but even that could not bring her comfort.

  "Hush, my love, ye did well."

  She could not control how her breathing hitched and jumped when she spoke. "He—cannot force me to—leave—can he?" The mere thought of being dragged from the castle, away from Blaise, made fresh tears spurt from her eyes. She dug her fingers into his tunic as though that would prevent their ever being separated.

  He held her tighter. "Nay, of course not. We will marry tonight if it puts yer heart at ease."

  The tone in his voice told her he spoke the truth, but she kept her head low so that he would not see the swelling in her eyes. "Ye would do that? Marry me tonight?" She could not help the flutter of glee that tickled her belly.

  That he loved her enough to wed her immediately lit a fire inside her that sizzled and popped excitedly.

  "Aye. This moment if we could, but I am certain there are a few small arrangements that need taken care of first."

  'Twas more than Elizabeth could have ever hoped for. She would be secure, free from hunger and cold, but loved as well. Now more than ever, that was most important.

  She loved Blaise. Loved him enough that every time he held her she wanted to sink into him like she sank into her bed at night. Loved him enough that even if their children inherited his hideous hair, she would not mind. That alone made the rewards of her marriage all the sweeter.

  "I love ye," she said, her eyes drying with happiness.

  His hand caressed her cheek until his fingers were in her hair. His eyes were adoring on her. "Ye are the most wonderful woman I have ever met. Ye are gold that has been buried in the sand for too long, and I intend to make ye shine."

  Her face heated at his creative description of her. "I am not wonderful, nor am I made of gold."

  He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "Of course ye are. I have never been talented with trusting those outside of my family, for reasons I'm sure ye are aware of by now."

  Her face heated and she nodded. She risked a glance up at him to see that the knowledge did not anger him like it had the first time he gave her hint of it.

  Perhaps if he discovered that Sir Ian had told her he would be angry. Elizabeth closed her mouth to keep from confessing. She would not tell him that.

  His purring voice wrapped her in shivering pleasure as his thumb stroked her cheek. "Ye have taught me to trust again. While ye are learning that, not everyone in this world, nobility or otherwise, has a virtuous spirit, I have learned through ye that good people do still exist."

  Elizabeth gaped at him. He took the opportunity to press his mouth to her lips.

  Her remorse prevented her from returning his kiss right away. Should he ever discover that 'twas her who arranged his attack—

  Nay. He would not discover it. She would never tell him. Regardless of that incident, she was still the good person he thought of her, and she loved him.

  Comforted with the knowledge of his love for her and her future life as his wife, she leaned upwards and allowed herself to return his caress.

  Chapter Ten

  "Married! Tonight? Yesterday ye claimed an uncertainty of their intent, and today 'tis marriage?"

  William raised his hands for peace. Blaise leaned against his writing desk, his arms folded as he took in Sir Nicholas's reaction.

  "'Twas a shock to me as well, but that is their wish."

  “And it is our wish.”

  “Blaise—” William warned.

  "Only to keep me from knowing my daughter!" Nicholas roared, glaring at Blaise.

  Blaise admitted to himself that he had never seen the usually docile man in such a temper. 'Twas a sight that he'd only seen in Bryce, another of his father's close friends, when the man felt that his honour was being challenged.

  "'Tis not to keep ye from knowing her, but to keep ye from taking her." Blaise said. Nicholas could lose his temper all he wanted but Blaise refused to lose his own. "Eliza does not wish to leave, and if that means that we wed tonight then so be it."

  "Ye are taking my daughter from me." Nicholas muttered.

  William drew Nicholas’ attention to him, attempting to show him reason. "Yer keep is but an hour's ride from here. Surely ye do not believe I would prevent ye from visiting, or stop her from seeing ye should she wish it."

  Blaise wasn't certain about the latter. He would have to exercise caution should he ever take Eliza to visit her father just to ensure the man would not attempt to kidnap her.

  "Ye are, of course, more than welcome to stay for the ceremony, and afterwards as well, for as long as ye wish." William said.

  Blaise shook his head. "He shall never leave if ye give an invitation such as that."

  Nicholas's face twisted in a way Blaise had never seen before, and the older man took one step towards him with clenched fists. William moved between them before the Nicholas could reply to Blaise's remark with another punch to the jaw.

  "Regardless, ye are welcome to stay. For as long as ye wish." He emphasised his words while glaring at Blaise, a silent warning to say nothing further evident in the air.

  "What about the celebration? Food? Guests? Ye cannot expect to have a proper wedding so soon." Nicholas argued.

  Blaise smirked. "My step mother is already announcing to the guests that there will be another celebration and more feasting since hardly a man has left the castle for their own homes last night. There will be plenty of guests, and more than enough food and ale to satisfy."

  "And a betrothal ceremony? What of that?"

  "This coming from a man who always claimed they were a waste of time and slowed the progress of true love." Blaise hissed.

  "Nicholas," William put his hands on the man's shoulders. "I promise ye she will be in good hands. I'll adore her as though she was my own daughter, and again, ye never need an invitation to see her."

  Nicholas hesitated, as though weighing the sincerity of William’s words. "'Tis unfair she should think herself yer daughter before she thinks herself as mine," he muttered, shaking his head. "I still do not know why she became so insulted when I told her I wished her to live with me. Is it so odd that a man wishes to know his only child?"

  "For a man who has known many women and boasted of his understanding of them, ye are certainly in the dark." Blaise commented.

  William glared again, another warning, but his words did not seem to offend Nicholas like his previous ones had.

  "'Tis one thing to woo a lover, I have never had to experience the fiery temper of a daughter." Nicholas sighed and turned to leave. "I will have to go and collect myself. 'Tis too much for one man to think of."

  "Nicholas," William called, but the man did not turn back as he left.

  William turned on his son. "Ye would do well to have more respect and sympathy for his predicament."

  "The man blatantly insulted Eliza's mother and then attempted to
take her from the castle." Blaise shot back.

  William waved away his reply. "Don't be a fool. He attempted nothing. He made his wish known to her and she refused. There was no harm in it."

  "He still insulted Eliza by insulting her mother.”

  William stared hard at him. Blaise shifted under the gaze, feeling as though he were being picked apart by crows of shame.

  William sighed. "Is it insulting to Eliza that I held no love for Bertha when I went to see her?"

  Heat crept up Blaise's neck, but his power of will kept the color from entering the plains of his face. He did not enjoy hearing of his father's sexual exploits. 'Twas difficult enough looking at Marianne in her condition and seeing the proof of his conquest growing in her belly.

  "'Tis different. Nicholas referred ye to her. Ye went to her for...tutoring. Not for physical pleasure like he had."

  Aye, tutoring. William was once a young man who did not know how to please his wife in bed, or even how to prevent her discomfort while he performed his husbandly duties. So when the opportunity to learn presented itself, he had taken it.

  Blaise would never hold that against him.

  "Is there a difference?" William asked.

  Blaise would not be manipulated into seeing things William's way. "Aye, of course there is a difference."

  William sighed again and rubbed his eyes in a tired gesture. "I see what ye are doing, and I do not like it."

  Blaise stood firm, refusing to be moved.

  William motioned towards the door. "Go and comfort yer soon-to-be-wife. Tell her that her sire may wish to have an audience with her before her vows are spoken."

  Blaise pushed himself off of his father’s writing table and left. If he felt a twinge of pity for Nicholas 'twas no doing of his own.

  ***

  Eliza sat on the stool in her chamber while Edward swung his wooden sword about, chatting of the fearsome adventures he would have when he was a knight.

  "A dragon lives in the king's woods. I shall slay it! And in return he will give me his crown."

  "His entire crown?” Eliza gasped. “Are ye certain he would not simply hand over a few jewels from it instead? A crown seems like much."