Lady Thief (29 page)

Blaise nearly turned away again but fisted
his hands into the damp hay and grit his teeth.

"Be still." Elizabeth commanded.

"I am, you wench." Blaise hissed, allowing
her to wash the remains of dirt from his eyes.

When the bowl was empty he brought his hand
up to wipe away the remaining drops still on his face.

Elizabeth slapped his hand away.
"Stop that.
Ye're spreading dirt around on your face." She applied a rough bit
of cloth to do the job for him, then took his hands and washed them
with the damp rag as well.

He kept his eyes on her while she diligently
cleaned the mud from his fingers.
Her thin brows came together over
the largest eyes he had ever seen as her hands gently wiped the
filth from him.

His hands heated under her care, and his body
tingled.
He cleared his throat, reminding himself that she could
likely be the enemy.
"Thank you."

The movement of her hands against his halted.
Her head did not lift but her eyes turned up to look at him beneath
thick strands of her dark, wet hair that fell in her face.
"I never
would have thought that ye should thank anyone for anything,
milord."

The muscles in Blaise's body tensed, any
warmth he felt over her touch vanished as a chill raced through
him.
He took his hands from hers and stood up, ignoring his
nudity.

Elizabeth scurried to her feet and backed
away a step, her eyes wide on him.

"Milord, I—"

"How do ye know me?" He demanded, stepping
towards her.
She stepped back again.
He didn't care.
She hadn't
outright spoken his name but she knew who he was, at least enough
to know that he was a lord despite how she supposedly found him
naked in the muck.
"How do ye know me, woman?"

She blinked, regaining her composure, though
her hands clenched together in fright in front of her.
"Your
hair."

His—?
"What?"

She raised her finger and pointed.
"Everyone
knows that Lord Blaise Gray has that color hair.
'Tis the only
reason I can think of as to why anyone would bother with robbing
ye."

He sighed, relief pulsing through him at the
obvious answer and hating how true her words rang to his ears.
“Ah,
I suppose that would have to be the truth.”

Blaise relaxed his body, he did not want to
appear threatening to this woman who'd taken him in and, according
to her, saved his life.
Despite his calm stance, she remained tense
and at a distance.

Ah, yes, he was naked and they were alone.
Blaise sat back down in her bed of hay and pulled the filthy
blanket over his lap, only then did Elizabeth breathe a sigh of
relief.
She still did not approach him.

"I apologize for my behavior.
I had forgotten
that I am so easily recognized by my despicable hair.”

Recognizable enough to be made into an
easy target by thieves
.
He thought sourly.

Elizabeth nodded.
“It
is
a despicable
color.”

Blaise clenched his hands into her damp,
filthy blanket.
“Regardless, you have my word that while I am here,
I mean you no ill will."

If she made another comment like that,
however, he might just take back that promise.

"Do ye behave so rashly with every lady you
meet?"

He raised a brow at her and smiled at the
obvious jest.
"Lady?"

She bristled as his eyes travelled up and
down her ragged gown, covered in the same muck she'd washed from
his face, hands, and eyes, fraying in all the places he could see,
and thin enough for holes to penetrate.
"Aye.
Lady.
My father was a
wealthy knight, but my mother decided to raise me in poverty rather
than have him know me."

“And, where is your mother now?”

Her eyes did not meet his.
“She is dead.”

Blaise's thoughts went away with him again.
He would allow himself to feel no pity while in this suspicious
state.
"I suppose you would prefer some sort of payment for your
services then?"

She did not attempt to deny her intent,
though there was no malice in her words.
"'Tis the least you could
do for a woman who saved your life, milord."

His suspicions that she may have had
something to do with his situation raised up again.
'Twould not be
the first time a member of the lower class had attempted to
manipulate him to get what they sought.

Marianne Holton had attempted to kidnap him
and force a wedding on him when he denied the proposed agreement of
marriage.
Instead, through sheer luck, she kidnapped and married
his father by mistake, William Gray.
Now they were known throughout
the land as a couple completely in love and devoted to one another,
with one child already and another on the way.

While alone with Elizabeth, nude and not a
weapon on him, Blaise did not mention his theory lest she turn into
a raving banshee and attack him with a log from the dwindling fire
she sat beside.
She stirred something that smelled heavenly in the
dented pot with a wooden spoon.

"I was not far from Graystone when I was
attacked," he said, ignoring the scent.
"Why bring me here instead
of to my home?"

She looked over her shoulder, the disbelief
in her eyes suggesting she thought he might be the crazed one
between the two of them.
"Do ye take me for a lunatic?
Why would I
go to yer father's castle, dragging his naked son behind me and
demanding entrance from the rain?
They would have me locked away
until you awoke, and then who would believe that I had nothing to
do with your robbery—"

"When you asked for your payment?" He
finished.

Elizabeth turned her head away, but Blaise
glimpsed the rising color in her neck before she did.
She poured a
thick stew into a crooked bowl and handed it to him with a
spoon.

She turned away from him immediately, not
waiting to see if he would eat the stew while she stood to face the
opposite wall with her arms crossed.
"You are not obligated to give
me anything, nor am I entitled to anything.
I was merely hoping
that someone in your position may be able to help me leave this."
She waved her hand around, indicating the square hut where she
lived.

Blaise thought about it.
The scent of the
stew called to his nose and his stomach twitched, but he put off
eating from it.
"You are correct, I do owe you nothing."

Her back cringed at his words.

He sighed.
"Yet I am not of the sort to
abandon someone who did not abandon me.
When the rain stops I will
take ye to Graystone and explain yer situation to my father."

Elizabeth spun to stare at him.
Her eyes
sparkled with tear drops and her jaw trembled at his offer.

Feeling generous, Blaise dug the wooden spoon
into the bowl, lifted out a mouthful of the steaming brown stew and
took a bite.
His eyes slid shut, savouring the taste.
"Perhaps
since ye are skilled as a cook we can give ye a position."

Elizabeth's face fell.
'Twas obviously not
what she had in mind.
Blaise chuckled and took another spoonful
into his mouth.

If this wench thought he would give her a
house and finery before he knew the truth about his robbery, then
she was as mad as they came.

***

Elizabeth clenched her teeth, seething as he
enjoyed the stew she created with the last of the essentials in her
home.

Still, she supposed she should feel grateful,
but she suppressed her sigh of relief until later.
Whether it had
been accidental or not, intended or not, if he suspected that she
had anything to do with his attack, he would kill her.

Chapter Two

The walk to Graystone castle took a few hours
after the rain stopped.
It seemed like days to Blaise, who had
nothing to protect his feet against the mud and sharp rocks on the
road.

The ragged blanket Elizabeth offered was all
he had to spare his dignity.
Indeed, the only other option was to
wear her cloak, and from the way it draped heavily around her,
filthy from overuse and mud, it would have not been any better.

His eyes scanned the trees, his fingers
itching to wrap around the handle of a sword he no longer had.
A
sword he regretted losing above all else.
"If we are to be ambushed
I would have to defend ye with nothing but my fists."

"'Twas you who did not wish to wait for the
roads to dry." Elizabeth replied in an equally sour tone, kicking
muck off of her flimsy shoes.
“My gown is already filthy, and now
being ruined further as I trek in the mud next to you.”

Blaise shook his head.
He eyed the gown she
wore, which original color he still could not discern, with
contempt.
She managed to clean some of the muck off it before they
started on their journey, but all it did was spread the dirt deeper
into the cloth.
“As though it makes a difference.” He mumbled.

She looked at him.
“What did you say?”

"I spoke of nothing, and I wished for a quick
departure because 'twould be best for a helpless woman and her
naked companion to travel before the thieves who live in the woods
decide the weather is fine enough for them to stalk their prey.
They wish to sit in the bushes, not in the muck.
Like us."

Elizabeth would not look at him.
She adjusted
the parcel in her arms and continued to walk, as though hoping he
would not see the color climbing her neck.
"I had not thought of
that."

She had wrapped the gown Blaise had seen in
her small hut in a clean skin to protect it against any damage
similar to the gown she currently wore.
She carried it with her as
though it were a precious child.

Blaise couldn't help but remark upon it.
"Are
ye wishing to look presentable when I introduce ye to my
father?"

Her pale cheeks heated again.
'Twas easy
making that color appear in her skin, it seemed.
The pink color
contrasted nicely on her pale cheeks.

She swallowed.
"Aye, I am a lady and wish to
look as one when I am in good company."

"Ah, then you should be wearing it now as you
are in my company." He grinned.
He visualised her wearing finery, a
clean gown with color, and the dirt washed from her hair and face,
but his efforts were constantly stalled as he could only picture
her as she was now.
Still, even dressed as a filthy serf, she was
beautiful.

She looked at him, one dark eyebrow raised, a
sardonic smile touching her full lips.
"My apologies, milord, but
as you are wearing nothing at all beneath my blanket I foolishly
assumed that 'twould not be necessary."

Blaise grumbled at her biting reply, eager to
get into a pair of leggings, boots, and tunic instead of walking
around with the cold breeze tickling his shrivelling manhood.

He needed to take his mind away from the
chill that assaulted him.
"Where did you come about a fine gown
such as that?
Considering your situation and all, my lady, I find
it unlikely you had the money to have it made."

She glared at him.
"'Twas a gift from my
father to my mother, before she stole herself away like she
did."

"Your mother kept the gown all this time?
I
thought she despised the man enough to run away?" Even had that not
been the case, Blaise would have had trouble believing her simply
because of the condition in which she lived.

"She did despise him, and was always seeking
to make me despise him with her stories as well.”

She stopped and cleared her throat, as though
only now aware of what she had said.
“I believe she kept it for
something to sell should we ever be in dire need.
When I grew old
enough, fearing she would soon sell it, I begged her to give it to
me instead."

"Hmm," It seemed like a plausible
explanation, but her story combined with her current situation and
miraculous rescue of him, made him question her true motives, as
he'd learned to question everyone's since Robert, a mere groom,
used him to try and lift up his social status.

"There, 'tis where I found you."

Blaise pulled himself from his thoughts and
stared at the spot where her delicate finger pointed.
In the center
of the road was a small pond of rainwater.
A toad swam frantically
inside while a pair of robins harassed it.

Curious as to how deep the puddle ran, Blaise
bent down, picked up a fist sized rock, and tossed it in the water.
The splash frightened away the birds and saved the toad, but the
water was deep enough that when the rock went in he could no longer
see it.

Blaise turned to stare at Elizabeth, who met
his gaze with no smirk on her face or victory in her eyes.
When she
claimed to have saved him from drowning in, of all things, a
puddle, he assumed she had been making the situation seem worse
than it was to claim her reward for his rescue.

However, if this small lake in the middle of
the road had been where he lay with his face pointed towards the
earth, he no longer had any doubts that he, a grown man and knight,
could be killed by it.

'Twas mortifying and surprising, and he
thanked the Lord that being killed in such a weak manner had not
been his Fate.
To be remembered as a man who drowned in a puddle!
'Twas worse than death itself!

"'Twas not so deep when I found ye, but the
rain did fall heavily.
Had I left you there the water would have
filled—”

"And I would have met my end.
I see that
now." Blaise turned his eyes away from the offending water to
continue his walk.

Elizabeth followed at his heels, as he
expected she would.
"I shall introduce you to my family and explain
how I came to know you." He stopped abruptly to glare at her.
"I
will tell my father the manner in which you saved my life, but no
one else is to hear of it, understood?"

As if sensing the threat, she bobbed a minor
curtsy.
"Aye, milord."

***

Elizabeth could barely contain her excitement
as Graystone came into view.
A stone fortress of immense length and
height that stood proudly on top of a small hill, with powerful
cylindrical towers that bolstered its thick walls.

The image before her made Elizabeth feel
small, her plan for a better life inside those battlemented
barriers foolish.
It also made her legs wish to run in the other
direction now that she made it so far.

She forced herself to keep moving with Lord
Blaise.
The young lord she travelled with seemed to become more and
more sour every step they took.
She knew by his earlier threat that
'twas solely because he did not wish to be seen wearing nothing but
the ragged blanket she gave him for cover.

His scowl deepened until crooked hills lined
his forehead as they came up the road that led to the gate.
Serfs
and other men and women who tended the fields halted with their
tools in hand as they passed.
They stared openly, some pointing
their fingers.

Elizabeth waited for Blaise to call out a
command for them to return to their duties, but he remained silent
and angry.
Likely because he wished to draw no further attention to
himself.

Elizabeth longed to do something to rescue
him from this humiliation, perhaps then he would treat her with a
little more gratitude.

No solution came to her.
Elizabeth remained
silent as they walked until they finally stepped up to the
gatehouse.
The drawbridge was down, but the portcullis was lowered.
It allowed her to see the inside of the courtyard but denied them
entrance.

Blaise raised his head and bellowed,
"
James
!"

A knight of a similar age stuck his head
between the battlements.
His eyes squinted, then widened at the
sight of his lord, without a horse, wearing a strange garb, and the
woman with him.

"Lord Blaise!
What ha—"

"Let us in!
I shall explain when I am
properly dressed!"

James's head ducked back behind the
battlements.
He shouted an order, and with the sound of heavy
chains clanging, the portcullis was lifted from the ground and
Elizabeth and Blaise were allowed entrance.

Elizabeth walked with uncertainty under the
holes in the stone above her.
Fear embraced her as visions of the
men above locking her in the gatehouse, shooting her, then pouring
boiling water over her dying body came to her.

No such measures were taken against her.
She
breathed a heavy sigh when she and Blaise appeared on the other
side of the gates unharmed.

James and other knights rushed down from
their positions above and around the castle to gape at their lord.
"Milord, were you attacked?" Asked James, who continually sent
Elizabeth cautious stares.

How did he intend to answer the question
without revealing his humiliating defeat at the hands of street
thieves.
None of her expectations prepared her for his arm around
her waist, pulling her close until her body was firmly against
his.

"I am in the company of a beautiful woman and
wearing only a blanket.
Do I look like a man who has suffered a
defeat?"

There was a pause, then most of the knights
laughed at the meaning behind his words.
Elizabeth flushed and
ducked her head.
How dare he make her out to be some common whore!
She would shriek his ear of later, lord or no lord!

James was the only man in the group who
showed no mirth.
His eyes trailed up and down Elizabeth's filthy
gown, her muddy face and hair, to the blanket Blaise had draped
over his shoulders and wrapped around his midsection.
"Lord Blaise,
your horse—"

"Ah, yes.” Blaise’s blue eyes returned to
Elizabeth.
Her shock tripled as he stared at her with something
akin to admiration.
“While no man can best me in a match I am
ashamed to admit that 'twas all too easy for them to sneak off with
my belongings while I was with a woman such as this."

Elizabeth's face heated with anger as the men
laughed again, shrugging off the fact that their lord was robbed as
long as it was done while he was apparently bedding a woman.

Although she was the more filthy of the two
of them, he was the swine!

"And as you can see, the gown she wears is
for travel." Blaise said, pulling the skin packaging open so the
men could see the fine green gown and bodice beneath, leaving them
no room to think that their lord was traveling with some meager
peasant.

Eager to stamp on any misconceptions before
the men in front of her took her to be a whore eager to be the
plaything of any man among them, she spoke without thinking.
"Aye,
as your betrothed 'twas easy for me to enjoy your attentions, lord
Blaise."

The knights stopped laughing.
They all stared
at Elizabeth with round eyes, including Blaise.
He righted his
features before the other men, squeezing her tighter to his side.
"That is was, my sweet Eliza." He hissed her name as though it were
cursed.

Elizabeth instantly regretted her mistake in
presuming she could insinuate something like that and get away with
it.
Whatever punishment or humiliation was available for her words,
Blaise would likely see to it that she suffered it.

"Where is my father?" Blaise demanded.

"Right here."

Elizabeth spun at the sound of the commanding
voice.
An older man with blond hair with flecks of grey in it
approached, his back straight and face that of concern.
A child of
five or six ran at his side to keep up with the longer legs of his
father before picking up speed and rushing to Blaise.

Blaise knelt down and threw his arms open for
the squealing child to rush into.
“Blaise!” The boy said.
“Where
were you?”

Blaise stroked the blond head.
“Just having a
pleasant walk.”

“Aye, too pleasant by the look of things.”
The knights stepped aside for the older lord, and when he was in
front of them he eyed his eldest son with curiosity.