Lady Thief - By Rizzo Rosko Page 0,14
smelling rushes welcomed her feet. The bed was large enough for the two of them and then some. It was naught like her small room back at Holton manor.
‘Twas another reminder that she was the mistress of this castle now.
Naught was the same, nor would anything ever be. This castle even felt different to her. Everything she touched was foreign to her fingers, and it made them itch with longing for her own bed.But this was her bed now, and she was expected to share it.
The tension melted from her shoulders when William caressed and massaged them, again using his touch to force her guard down. Damn her weak flesh she could not help the useless moan of satisfaction with the way he eased the stress from her shoulders.
His lips touched her ear. “Thank you,”
Her eyes snapped open but she did not turn to look at him.
“For what?”
“For not making it public knowledge that you forced me to wed you.”
“You could easily have ruined my reputation today, as well,”
He sighed, and Marianne could not tell if he thought the idea to be a pleasurable one or not. “‘Tis true, but to do so would have brought me down to ruin with you.”
She flinched again. So his actions had naught to do with preserving her feelings. So be it. She was in his chamber now, and she knew what was expected of her. Though she was not sure if she could easily give him what he wanted.
She had feared it from the start of this whole mistake, knowing that she would be required to give her body to her husband. Her nervousness intensified into something far more frightening than she had imagined when the ladies downstairs gathered around her to give their praise and, in the cases of the soon-to-be-wed, awkwardly ask questions on what to expect themselves.
They thought she had been deflowered already and knew the ways of the bed. And why wouldn’t they? She’d been married for two weeks. What bride went so long without knowing the touch of her husband?
But she did not know it; the mere thought of it brought a fresh wave of heated embarrassment to her cheeks. When the younger girls asked her questions she could not answer, she could do naught but blush and refrain from answering, claiming it to be too unladylike a topic.
By the end they had all assumed her to be a prudish shrew.
Marianne groaned.
William kissed her neck. She had not realized he had come so close and she shrieked and leapt away from him, bounding across the bed and landing on the other side, using it as a barrier between them.
His eyes were wide with shock. “What is this?”
“We can end it,” Marianne said. “we do not have to do this. You can have your freedom from me. Send me home and keep the chest with the money, for all I care.”
Chapter Four
“End it? ‘Tis impossible.”
He was laughing at her! The nerve of him! She was perfectly serious!
She clenched her hands in his bed sheets and tightened her jaw. She would be taken seriously. “Nay, we could do it. I am not truly your wife until the marriage has been…” she blushed and plowed on. “…consummated. We can petition for an annulment.”
William stopped his chuckling and folded his arms. Marianne did not know what to make of his stance until he spoke.
“You are more simple minded than the average female.”
“What?”
“We both swore in front of a houseful of guests that you and I have been one already. How would we explain such a thing to them?Without ruining my reputation,” he added when she tried to speak up.
Marianne chewed her bottom lip. He was right. Everyone on the bottom floor already thought they had consummated the marriage and would likely not believe otherwise even if told so.
She thought of allowing him to question her virtue, but that would not work either since everyone assumed she had given it to him weeks ago.
She clutched the bed sheets tighter, wishing for a solution to present itself, but none came.
He watched her with his piercing eyes, waiting to see what she would do to bring a solution to their problem.
She pounded the bed. “But can you not see how wrong this is? You would only be using me to disperse of your anger,” she accused, her voice high pitched, hoping to stall what was to come. “You are vengeful and ‘tis disgusting!”
He shrugged. “Aye, ‘tis true.”
Marianne gasped and stepped back. “You admit it!”
“Of course