Lady Thief (10 page)

“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 behavior.”

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.

But young women did not love old men like
him—he was nearing thirty-seven already—but he remained confident
Marianne could become affectionate to him.
Perhaps this spectacle
of hers was proof of that.

“Nay my dear, as much as your fury amuses me
I cannot say that I have been keeping a mistress since your
arrival.”

Her eye twitched and fists remained clenched,
she tried to pull away but he refused to release her, an act that
angered her further.

She yanked her wrists with more strength and
he let her free.
“So you do have a former lover in this household.”
‘Twas not a question.

William sighed.
“Whether or not I have kept a
mistress is none of your concern.
But I am no longer entertaining
her.”

“What is her name?”

“Why?”

“I wish to drown her.”

William laughed again.

Marianne stamped her foot again.
“There is
nothing amusing about this!”

She tried to strike him again but again he
captured her wrists and, despite her struggles, continued to
laugh.

Marianne could only fight and fume until he
abruptly pulled her chest to his.
“This is why I agreed to wed
you,”

Her eyes searched his for some island of
sense in the sea of her confusion.
“What are you speaking of?
You
agreed to wed me because I had Archer put a blade to your
throat.”

“Nay, I agreed to take you as my wife because
I love your spirit.”

Her body went lax at his claim, then, just as
quickly, she tried to push away from him, her fury returning full
force.
“You’re mad!”

“Be that as it may,” he released one of her
wrists and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her hips closer
to his.
“I enjoy it.”

He also enjoyed touching her and could feel
her through the clinging fabric of her damp robe.
‘Twould be easy
to remove it, and while he would not do anything harmful to her,
‘twould also be a simple matter of making her want him.
She was
young and inexperienced, a little patience on his part and she
would beg him to take her.

As if suddenly aware of how loose her robe
was becoming with their strange dance, her hair dripping onto his
dry clothes, Marianne tensed.

“You are getting wet.” She said.

He dipped his mouth to her ear.
“I hardly
care.”

“Why?” She asked, swallowing as the hot
breath brought a shiver and gooseflesh to every inch of her
skin.

His mouth did not leave her ear, and she
could scarcely stand while his roaming hands discovered every mound
on her body.
“Why do I not care for my clothes?”

“No!
Why are you behaving like this?”

He removed his mouth from her tingling ear
but his face remained close to hers, and even though he loosened
his grip on her she made no attempt to escape.

“I seemed to have taken a liking to brash
women,” He released her other wrist and trailed a finger down the
opening of her robe, exposing her breast to the chill air.

He doubted the cold air had anything to do
with its pleasing peak.

She could have lifted her hand to slap his
fingers away, but he knew she wanted to see where those roaming
fingers would lead her.
‘Twould not take much to show her.

Apparently satisfied that she would put up no
fight, he slid a finger under, over, and around her bare breast
before teasing the nub peaking at the center with his thumb.

Her feet swayed and breath hitched, and
William smiled.

Her eyes drifted shut, there was not a
thought in her head now.

He stepped closer, his other hand sliding
across the smooth skin hidden beneath her robe.
For a moment he was
so focused on the sensation of her against his fingertips that her
rambling words did not reach his ears.

When they did he covered her mouth with his,
because she was not speaking at all, but was moaning under his
touch.

***

Marianne did not know what was happening to
her but she liked it and did not wish it to stop.
The swelling
between her legs returned and the pulsing became the throbbing
heartbeat that kept her breathing, kept her alive.

All she wanted was for him to continue
inflicting this wonderful torture on her.
When she felt this good
she could not find blame to place on him for wishing her to his bed
if he would feel only a fraction of what he was causing her to
feel.

Blindly she threw her arms around his neck
and welcomed his tongue into her mouth when he kissed her.

It felt different from the last time his
tongue visited her in that church, and not in the unpleasant
surprise way it had been before either.
‘Twas soft and warm and
wet, and she found herself enjoying having it touch her own tongue
and moving against hers.

When he pulled his mouth away she was
coherent enough to open her eyes and feel the hand that had once
been teasing, now gripping the whole of her breast.

“Is this what you meant when you wanted to
apologize for not seeing to your promise?” She asked, a hint of a
smile at her lips.

“Not quite, but it will do for me if it will
for you.” He pressed himself closer to her, and she felt the
hardness at his thigh.

Like the crack of a whip her body, which was
once so full of wanting and lust she thought she would overflow,
suddenly became tense with fear.

She could not do this.

William saw the look on her face and he too
was pulled from the lusty fantasy.
“You do not approve?”

She tried to back away but could not, and he
refused to move and give her any space.

Marianne clutched his shoulders.
She could
not look him in the eye.
He was her husband and she his wife.
‘Twas
nothing wrong with what he wished to do to her, what she had nearly
wanted him to do to her, yet she could not bring herself to allow
it.
“You do not love me,”

He professed to love not her but her brash
spirit and reckless behavior.
The very thing her father had been
trying to stamp out of her for as long as she could remember.
‘Twas
not good enough.

William opened his mouth to reply, then shut
it just as quickly.
He said nothing.

Marianne pushed away from him, righting her
robe as she moved as far away from him as possible before she
grabbed the comb and returned to furiously combing out her knotted
wet hair.

His words, especially the words not said,
were like a blow.
She could not bring herself to look at him.
And
even while she sat on the other side of the room, pretending to
focus solely on her hair, he still would not speak, and somehow the
silence was worse than if he had decided to rage around the room
for her teasing treatment of him.

She enjoyed his touch, and she enjoyed his
voice when he took the time to speak to her, but if he did not love
her then what would their act of loving each other really be but
emotionless fornication?

She was lonely, but not that lonely.

She tensed when his hands found her
shoulders, she had not realized that he was nearing her.
Unlike
their first night under the same roof, she did not scream and leap
away when he kissed her neck.
The act was so tender she could
almost trick herself into believing that he did hold feelings for
her.

“We will share a bed, but tonight will be the
last night that I do not make you mine.
Tomorrow we shall eat our
breakfast together, and after I see to my own responsibilities we
can talk privately if you wish.”

She swallowed.
One day to try to make him
love her?
‘Twas impossible.

“Talk.
About what?”

He rubbed her shoulders.
“It matters not to
me.
We can discuss anything you like.”

Marianne put away her comb and thought it
over.
It was an opportunity to get to know him as more than just
the Earl of Graystone and the husband she occasionally saw, but as
the man who defended her against her father and kept his promise
when he did not have to.

She would at least know who would bed her
tomorrow night.
Perhaps that man would even be her friend.
He was
being generous with her, he could have offered her much less.
He
could give her nothing but misery.
He could take her right now.

“Very well, that sounds acceptable.” She
nearly winced with her words.
How formal she sounded to her own
husband.

“Good,” He replied.

Marianne heard the shuffling of clothes and
turned around, only to cover her eyes and spin in the other
direction.