Lady Thief (24 page)

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Authors: Rizzo Rosko

Tags: #romance, #marriage, #kidnapping, #historical, #sweet, #lord, #castles, #medieval, #ladies, #marriage of convenience

BOOK: Lady Thief
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Ferdinand sneered at the body.
“Clear that
away!”

He gestured for his men to step back,
Marianne was pulled along with them.
Several more servants she did
not recognize scurried forth and in clean motions wrapped Robert’s
body and spilling blood in old blankets while the others scrubbed
and washed the floor.

They carried him out, and the women cleaning
the floor left with them.
All that remained was the wet, circular
spot which would soon dry.
‘Twould be as though a man had not been
killed at all.
The only proof being the blood still cooling on
Marianne.

Ferdinand turned his eyes towards her, but
they were no longer hard and sneering.
Now they were cold and
dissecting.
That alone made her squirm.

Marianne swallowed and, refusing to show him
weakness, yanked herself free of the man who held her upright.
She
held her bloody hands still, now knowing that the cruel scent she
picked up when she came into the house was in fact death.
“Ye will
send me home now?”

He shook his head.
“I think not, Milady.”

Panic ripped through her.
“But ye have killed
my captor!
There is no reason to keep me now that you have set me
free!”

He waved a boney finger at her.
“Ah, but you
have heard him claim that I sent your father to Graystone to
retrieve you.
I cannot simply send you on your way knowing
that.”

Marianne felt more hands grabbing her arms,
pulling her away.
“William will come for me!
He will see to it that
you pay for this you filthy pig!”

Ferdinand did not lift an eye at her insult,
he touched her cheek with leathery fingers and purred.
“Presuming
he knows you are here, milady.” He looked at the men holding her.
“Take her to my chamber, I shall be there shortly.”

Marianne fought and kicked the men grabbing
her.
She shrieked and a large hand held her mouth shut.
She bit the
hand hard enough to draw blood, but they still refused to release
her.

Ferdinand’s men dragged her into a room and
with a brutal shove threw her to the floor.
She struggled to her
feet and tried to follow them but they slammed the door of
Ferdinand’s bedchamber in her face, locking it behind them.

***

She waited, twisting her hands in an effort
to loosen the ropes, and then tried to wash away the blood which
itched her skin in Ferdinand’s old basin.
Some rinsed away, most
did not.
With her hands tied, they were nearly useless, and she
could not scrub it all away.

She checked the closed shudders but they
would not open.

Marianne circled the room, searching in the
large chest in the chamber and under the bed, but found only
strange leather straps and clips of a kind she had never seen
before.
They looked like something with which a man might use to
tie a horse.
A very small horse.

A shiver twisted through her fingers and up
her back, and she had to drop the offending objects.

A commotion outside the chamber had her
whirling towards the door, waiting with a beating heart for her new
captor.

The door opened, only enough for her father
to come inside.

He greeted her with a smile and a finger to
his lips.
“I said I would only be a few moments.”

Anger coursed through her, but she did not
get the chance to demand an explanation.
He grabbed her by the arms
and silenced her with the sharpest look she had ever seen on his
face.

His fingers travelled to her bindings.
While
he untied her wrists she puzzled over his old and worn clothes.
Stains and holes littered his tunic, his hands were filthy and
calloused.
Not even her lowliest servants had ever been forced to
wear such rags.

Her anger melted away as shock took over.
“Father, what happened to you?”

“I should be asking that of you.” He held her
bloody hands tenderly and touched her swelling neck with a gentle
finger.

“‘Tis not my blood.
Where are your
garments?”

“There is no time, come with me.”

He pulled her to the tall fireplace where the
fire burned low from lack of attention.
Her heart and lungs nearly
burst when he stepped inside and disappeared around the corner.

The sound of stones scraping over each other
had her stepping closer.
“Father?”

He peaked his head out and held his hand for
her.
“Watch your gown.”

She was careful of the fire she stepped
around.
To her shock inside the fire pit was a small doorway in the
stone slab!

“What is this?”

“My father had this built to protect himself
should he be attacked.
It leads outside.
Ferdinand does not know of
it.”

Marianne followed him through, trusting even
when he closed the stone door behind them and their light was
completely shut out.

***

Ferdinand went to the solar that was now his
to prepare.
There were special items he hid there for his use
whenever he was fortunate enough to have a lady in his bed.

He hid them in the solar, in chests along the
halls of the house, and there were even a few items in the kitchen,
because he did not believe in restricting his activities to his
bedchamber.
He’d tried that once, and the games quickly became
dull.

This way, he would always be prepared, and
though he’d not lived in Holton’s house for very long, he’d still
planned ahead.
Marianne was in his chamber, for now.
He’d take her
in here later.
He’d have her all over this house, and then do the
same at his castle.

Despite the foolishness of the servant for
bringing the girl to him, Ferdinand was quite pleased with the turn
of events.
He had grown far too used to the idea of simply giving
up on her when Holton returned to him empty handed but for the few
useless trinkets he’d stolen from Graystone.

Just the memory of that insolence was enough
to make him clench his aging fist.
Yet, despite his anger, he
allowed the man to live, and relished seeing him toil as a servant
in his own home.

It was beautiful because Holton had insisted
on it, just for the purpose of seeing the graves of his sons.
A
small pleasure that would have been out of his reach had Ferdinand
decided to throw him from the property.

Ferdinand unclenched his hands and stared at
them.
Thick veins protruding from thin hands with bulging
knuckles.

There was a time when he would never have had
to resort to such measures to snare a mistress for himself.
They
would have flocked to him, fought for him, and come to his bed
willingly and wept when he finally threw them away.
And he enjoyed
sending them away when he finished with them.

But as he aged, the numbers of his women
dwindled until ‘twas he seeking out the beautiful maidens, seeking
them out until they finally would not have him.

Marianne’s attempt to free herself of her
marriage to him had been one insult too many, and tonight he would
bed her and she would know what it meant to insult Bartholomew
Ferdinand.

The sound of thundering hooves distracted him
from his thoughts, and he went to the window.

His eyes widened at the sight of William Gray
dismounting from his horse, along with what could easily pass for a
small army.

Ferdinand flew from the solar towards his
bedchamber, calling out orders.

That fool!
He was glad he’d killed that idiot
because William did know what the servant had done and he came for
his wife!
Ferdinand needed to move her!
Hide her!
If she stayed
where she was he would be killed!

He came upon the doors to his temporary
chamber, satisfied to find both men he sent with her still guarding
the doors.

“You,” He called, they both stood straighter.
“Bring her to the kitchens, tie her feet, her mouth, and blindfold
her eyes if need be when you hide her in the pit.
Lord Gray cannot
know she is here.”

The pit was a tool that was sure to fit
Marianne nicely.
A small hole in the ground with a trap door used
for keeping food cool in the warmer seasons.
The risk of Gray
finding her remained, but ‘twas the best spot for the moment.

The guards opened the doors for him to enter
his chamber, prepared to carry out his orders.
But when Ferdinand
stepped inside, he stopped dead.
No woman stood in this room, no
one at all, and the ropes that had tied her wrists together lay
uselessly on the floor.

***

Ferdinand made another show of inching down
the stairs, much to William’s irritation, his hand held against his
lower back as he came to greet the army at his door.

“Milord,” He said, nodding his head slightly.
“To what do I owe the unexpected honor?”

William did not pretend to believe the lie.
“Where is Marianne?”

Ferdinand tilted his head.
“I would assume
she would be safe at your keep.”

William narrowed his eyes.
He knew she was
here, there would be no other safe place for Robert to bring her.
Bryce spotted cart tracks as they came upon the house.
They could
belong to none other than the cart Robert had stolen.

Bryce whispered to him.
“Milord, the
men,”

William looked around.
Bryce was not
referring to their own men, but to Ferdinand’s.

Many stepped forward, standing around open
doorways or atop the stairs, their hands on their weapons, all
staring down mistrustfully.

“We outnumber them,” William said, returning
his attention to Ferdinand, who stood much straighter now.

William drew his sword.
So did all the men
under Ferdinand’s employment.
The slide of their blades echoing in
the spacious room.

William’s men inside the house did the same,
and he heard the draw of their weapons as well.

“I’ll not ask you again!” He could hardly
contain his anger, though he knew there would be no honor in
killing an old man.

Ferdinand raised his disfigured hands and
signaled for his men to put away their weapons.
“As I have said,
milord, your wife is not here.
You are, of course, welcome to
search the house if it would please you.”

“Aye,” William sheathed his weapon.
“It
would.”

***

Marianne’s father struggled with the stone
above their heads until he managed to slide it aside.
Cold air
assaulted Marianne’s face and the falling snow disoriented her.
‘Twas falling thicker now than before.

Holton helped her out of the hole she was in.
After seeing the headstones, Marianne recognized herself to be in
the family graveyard.

She stared at the stone belonging to the hole
they had climbed out from.
‘Twas the old stone with the faded
letters.
Whenever she had asked of it her father never gave a
proper answer of which relative it was.
Now she knew why.

Her eyes sought out the stones of her
brothers, and she sighed when she found them unharmed.
Even the
stone of Justin, who had died before she was born, was
untouched.

“I thought he would have destroyed them.”

Holton struggled to return the stone to its
place, also sparing them a glace before taking her hand.
“I have
seen to it that he has not.”

Marianne jerked her hand away.
Now that they
were safe she felt Robert’s betraying words coming back to her.
“Is
this why you came to Graystone?
Hoping that selling me would spare
their graves?”

He gave her a pleading look.
“I thought I was
able to do it, but betraying you in life would have been no better
than betraying them in death.
I could not do what Ferdinand asked
of me, so I took what I could and sold myself to him.”

Marianne touched Reggie’s stone, brushing the
snow from it as if dusting a precious heirloom.
Dead for nearly
eight years but it seemed only yesterday he’d fallen from his
horse.
The pain of losing her brothers erased her anger with her
father.

“You could not save them in life, so you
tried in death.”

She looked at him, at the filthy clothing he
wore, recognized what he had risked to save her from Ferdinand’s
chamber, and she forgave him.

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