Lady Thief: A Scarlet Novel (10 page)

“Rob,” I said low, not daring to open my eyes. “My hand’ll be right again. And as for killing me … well, he hasn’t yet.”

“Scarlet.”
My eyes flew open and his were shut tight, his head bent. Hurting, I pushed my forehead to his. His hands came up and held my face, leaning as if he were ’bout to kiss me. His eyes opened a sliver and met mine, and he let me go, swearing and turning from me.

“That’s why, Rob,” I told him soft.

“Why what?” he snapped, turning back round.

“Why I went to Gisbourne. Because I need to kiss you, to touch you, to hold on to you through your awful dreams. Without us both wondering if we’re doing a sin.”

He turned back to me and caught me, one arm round my waist pulling me off my feet and the other in my hair tugging my head back. I caught his eyes, fixed on me in a way that made heat rush over me in a breaking wave, and I couldn’t breathe.

Our lips touched. His were dry and rasped over me a bit, like it were so chaste it weren’t even there. Then his mouth opened and it weren’t dry anymore. His lips were perfect against mine, more soft than I would have never guessed, and warm like the sun hitting the water.

My blood ran hot and fast and I felt more than human, like I were powerful beyond every measure. His mouth opened more and his tongue ran against my lips, and my whole body sparked like tinder. I bare had a thought, but I wanted more of him, so much more, and my hands were desperate for it, fingertips running like they could keep whatever they touched.

My back nudged up against a wall, somewhere shaded from the sun and prying eyes, but I didn’t never remember moving. His head twisted and our lips broke for a bare instant before he touched them back again, twisting his head the other way. His lips pressed my bruise and I jerked.

His arms went tense and hard around me, and the kiss broke apart. His nose nudged me like a dog giving orders, and I obeyed, moving my face to one side. Hot hands running my sides, his mouth touched impossible gentle to the bruise by my mouth from Gisbourne. Rob’s lips left, then dropped soft small kisses on the bruises that he had laid. He kissed my closed eyes and without wanting it, water dripped out from my eyes. He kissed that away too.

“I’m sorry, sweet,” he whispered into my ear. “I’m sorry I pushed you to this.”

My hands twisted to fists in his shirt. “I never should have married him, Rob. I should have found another way.”

“We’ll get out of this,” he said. “I’ll get better, and you can walk away.”

I shook my head a tiny bit. “I’m getting that annulment. They call me Marian, Rob, and they act with so little honor it’s a horror to call them nobility.” I pushed my head to his. “They took my name, Rob.”

His lips touched mine again, more puffed and soft now, burning against mine. When he stopped he didn’t go nowhere, speaking straight into my mouth. “They can have your name. I know who you are, with or without it. And I won’t ever let you lose that. My love. My Scarlet.”

I pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Say it once more?” I asked.

He kissed me. “Scarlet,” he breathed. Another kiss. “Scarlet.”

I didn’t need strength. My heart were so full to bursting that I could have run to London and back without food, drink, or rest. My body were burned over and over with the feel of him, and it were all I needed to stay strong.

It were an awful sin, and I didn’t care. Kissing Rob made me an adulterer, but wedding Gisbourne when he weren’t the one in my heart made me an adulterer too. I didn’t for a breath believe a kiss would make Robin better, but it were all I needed to hold on to everything I were doing this for.

Church bells rang out, and I broke the kiss, listening for the hour. “I have to go,” I whispered against his mouth.

His nose rubbed mine slowly, then his mouth pressed against mine once more. “Do you know how often I’ve imagined kissing you?”

My breath stopped, and I opened my eyes to search his. “And?”

“You cannot tell me to stop now and watch you walk away,” he said, his breath running into my breath. Another kiss. “Especially to him.”

My ring felt heavier then, and I pulled back from Rob. I stroked his cheek slow with my good hand. “I’ll make it right, Rob. I’ll get the annulment and then I can kiss you in public. All day long. Till the village wives wring their hands at us.”

He smiled, leaning into my hand. “We’ve always been good at causing a bit of chaos.”

I stepped away from him with a sad smile, but he tugged my good wrist and brought me back for one more kiss. Then he let me go and I walked back to the castle, every step dragging and slow like I were fighting against a tide.

The servants were laying out a fancy dress and brushing it flat and free of dust and dirt when I came back to the room. The long bit were gold, shimmering and bright, and the shorter bit that fit over it were tufted red velvet, the same color as my old ribbons. It were an awful expensive thing, and it felt like soft moss beneath my hand.

“You would like to dress now, my lady?”

“No,” I said quick, pulling my hand back from it. “Where can I bathe?”

“We’ll fetch the bath for you, my lady.”

I forgot about this—the silly labor of baths. Fair shamed by it, I stashed my knives by the shutter as they left, then watched as the servants first brought the basin to the chambers, then pail after pail of water warmed in the kitchens and sloshed cold by the time it made it to me. I didn’t mind that much—I
were used to bathing in colder waters—but I were meant to sit in the half-empty basin while they poured it over me, slow and waiting for more water.

Then the lady servant set upon me with soap and cloths, and that part were a far cry better than bathing in the lake.

Course, Gisbourne walked in half through this ordeal, and I weren’t none too pleased by him seeing all my bits again. And he just folded his arms and watched me. I covered myself in the water as best I could with my knees and such, but it didn’t make me feel much better.

“Quite a gentleman, aren’t you,” I spat at him.

“What?” he asked. “A man can’t look upon his wife? From what I’m told it’s the same as looking upon my arm, or my foot. You belong to my body, Marian, and I shall look at you how I choose.”

Blood were creeping up my neck and cheeks, and I stared at the water as the maid finished, fetching a sheet for me.

“You were missed at supper last night,” he said.

“I’m sure.”

“I realize I wasn’t specific about this before, but court suppers are part of our bargain. Every function you are expected to attend as my wife you shall attend, or our deal is off. Do you understand?”

The servant shook the sheet open, standing off to the side. I motioned her over, to stand between me and Gisbourne, but she just looked confused.

Gisbourne laughed, damn him.

Full of hate and shame, I stood, wrapping the sheet round me as quick as I could. Gisbourne came forward as I stood there, putting his hand on my stomach where the big bruise lay, pulsing and sore under the thin cover of the sheet. My whole skin shivered with the touch of a hand through so little fabric.

He looked at me, his eyes dark. “Seems you know a lot of gentlemen.”

It should have shamed me, but that weren’t the way of it. It made me think of Robin, of his mouth and his hands and his body all along mine.

“Hold on,” he ordered abruptly, and without more word he grasped my middle and pulled me from the bath. Swallowing a gasp, my hand shot out to his shoulder as he lifted me up over the edge and set my feet down.

He let me go immediately, and I pulled away from him, holding the sheet tight to me.

He pulled the tunic off over his head. “Send up more water,” he said to Eadric. “No reason to let this waste.”

I dragged the long, loose dress over my head as more of his clothes came off. He bared his chest, staring at me. I looked away, but I felt his eyes on me as he stripped down completely.

“And here I thought what’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” he goaded with a laugh. “Don’t want to peek, love?”

Rob’s kiss burned over me again. “Don’t call me that. You don’t love me. It’s a mock.”

“Yes,” he said. “It is.
Love
.”

I shook my head, keeping turned away from him and letting my maid tug and pull and tie me. I heard the splash of the water and the sounds of washing, and I felt like I were fair pinned in the corner of the room, unable to move.

The servant sat me on the edge of the bed and brushed what there were of my hair—long bits in front that fluffed about my face, and the short bunches in back that didn’t lay flat. It behaved a bit more for her, and she did some trick with pins and it stayed back, like it were all gathered about the bun that weren’t there anymore.

“Thank you,” I murmured to her.

Gisbourne stood from the bath. “Last chance,” he said before his manservant put the cloth around him. I stayed still, and he laughed at me. I sat on the bed while his manservant dressed him in black velvet, stark and fine against the white of his shirt, his body big and wide and hard with muscle that seemed odd to be dressed in velvet.

I looked away. He weren’t ugly.

Not liking the thought, I went to the window, retrieving my knife when he weren’t looking and hiding it in the back of the shorter overdress.

Finished, he held out his hand and I took it, letting him pull me in front of him. He stared me over, but not the same as when I wasn’t dressed. “Perfect,” he said. “The dress suits you nicely. Now if you just don’t open your mouth, we may be able to pull this off.”

“What is there to pull?” I asked, taking my hand back. “It ain’t as if we’re fixing to steal something from the prince.” I looked at him. “Are you?”

“I’m trying to convince him that you’re a well-bred lady instead of a heathen,” he told me. “It’s a little bit harder than stealing bread.”

“Why should he care?”

“I care. You
should
care.”

“Why?”

“Christ, you’re little better than a toddler.” Shaking his head, he came toward me till my back hit the wall, and he leaned close to my ear. “You want an annulment, Marian, yes?”

My hand curled around the knife I had hidden, but I nodded.

“Do you know what the only thing is that will allow for our marriage to be annulled?”

My mug went hot and red but I didn’t say nothing to him.

He leaned even closer so his lips touched my ear. “Lack of consummation.”

Stepping back a pace, his eyes went over me in a different way, a way that made me hold my breath because breathing made my chest move too much. Though my heart were hammering hard enough that it might have been a fair exchange, the cloth beating with the pulse of what lay beneath.

“You’ll be a good girl tonight, won’t you?” he told me with a sneer.

He moved away. I looked at the window, at the sliver of dark night I could see, and I turned and followed my husband.

I weren’t full aware of how many nobles had come to Nottingham. The Great Hall were filled to bursting, with huge long tables running the length of it. There were one larger table up on the dais, with fewer seats than the rest.

Gisbourne led me to the royal table and a breath fluttered within me. Were my husband so favored that we would have to eat with these people? Gisbourne did the dutiful bit and pulled out the chair till I swept into it, and pushed it forward for me. I reckoned that the tradition were for the damn weight of the things—I were strong as girls came, but I couldn’t have lifted such a chair.

Seated in the wooden trap that kept me at the table, I stared at the spectacle. There were huge plates of animals in garish display, giant turkeys sitting golden and steaming, platters heaped with cuts of meat the like I’d never seen. Antlers of the stag they had killed were draped with jewels and pearls above the meat from his body. There were a whole table of falsely colored sweets.

Flour. Sugar. Eggs. Game. All this belonged to the people of Nottingham, who were starving while these people fatted themselves.

Horns blared out into the hall while the men stood, welcoming the prince and princess to the table. The prince were meant to look handsome—with his fine clothes, and the certain bearing and surety that handsome men had—but he weren’t. He were more than ten years my elder but he looked like a spoiled, milk-faced boy.

“Welcome, lords and ladies, to the humble supper I have been able to give to you. Please enjoy, and let us first drink to the health and safe return of my brother abroad. To King Richard!” he bellowed.

“King Richard!” we all answered. That I was fair fine with drinking to.

A cup touched mine to my right. I looked and nodded to Winchester. “Your Grace,” I greeted.

“My lady,” he said. A servant stepped between us with an offering of venison stew, and Winchester ladled a bowl for me and then himself. “I am grateful to see you much improved from last night.”

“Last night?” I asked.

“Your lord husband informed me that you weren’t well.”

I looked down. Gisbourne hadn’t cared, but it were close to truth. “No, I wasn’t.”

“My lady,” he said quiet, so much so that I had to lean toward him. “I’m more than aware of your husband’s ungallantries. Should you ever wish for my assistance, you shall have it upon a moment.”

My eyes lifted. “Thank you, your Grace.”

“Now, I believe you know another dear friend of mine.”

“I do?”

“The former earl of Huntingdon?” he whispered to me.

My blood ran fast. “You know Rob?”

He smiled, tasting his soup. “So I imagine the stories are true, then. It’s him that truly has your heart.”

Allan had said as much before. “Who the hell is telling these stories?” I asked.

He chuckled. “More than likely, Eleanor of Aquitaine and her minstrels,” he told me, nodding down the table. I could see past Gisbourne and the princess to the prince; he leaned back and gave glimpse of an elegant grayed lady.

“That’s the dowager queen?” I asked.

He nodded. “There is no fairer personage to serve in the royal court,” he whispered to me. “Her youngest son may know little of what honor and grace truly represent, but trust me, she is the font of such qualities.”