Lady Thief - By Rizzo Rosko Page 0,69
that William’s love for Alice was much stronger than anything he could ever give to her.
She had fooled herself into thinking otherwise when he performed his husbandly duties. Likely because of how well, and how often, he performed them.
‘Twas not merely a duty to her, though. Not if she was honest with herself. Marianne adored the special attention he bestowed upon her when they were alone. She looked forward to it whenever William was out of sight, sighing and longing for night to come quicker so he would be with her. She especially enjoyed how he held and kissed her, before, during, and afterwards.
Though the feeling of bare skin on skin was a delight that stirred the heat in her belly, Marianne was always left saddened when they finished climbing to that exquisite, pleasurable high. The truth of her situation always returned to her in those moments.
William loved Alice. He loved her enough to raise a child not his own. Just because he made Marianne’s flesh ache at night, and stroked her tenderly as she drifted to sleep, did not change that.
As the days turned into weeks Marianne found the courage to ask Adam what the former mistress of Graystone had looked like.
The man had smiled, as though the memory of her was a pleasure to be recalled.
“Not that my own thoughts on the matter are of any importance, but she was a kind, lovely sort. Her voice as gentle as she, with hair the color of sunshine.”
The poetic description did naught for her mood.
Of all things, the woman had been dainty and beautiful. Marianne should feel ashamed for wishing to compete with a woman long dead, but she could not stop the bitterness from swelling.
At least she had an understanding with her husband. A friendship, even. ‘Twas much more than most would ever have, and all because they had finally spoken in the stables.
There was only one tiny detail left unattended.
William had been almost correct when he said there were no secrets between them. Marianne still held a few of her own. The first being that she had fallen in love with him, and the second, that since their talk in the stables those weeks ago, Marianne became aware that she was late for her monthly course.
She was never late.
No matter. ‘Twould not be a secret she kept for long. The moment she was sure of her condition she would tell William. Until then she had no wish to give him false hopes.
Marianne sighed and put away her embroidery, something she found little skill in since she never had a mother or nurse to teach it to her. Reggie, despite his best efforts, could never teach her the finer points of it either.
“Olma, come with me while I see my horse?”
Olma looked up from her own work, stood and bobbed. “Aye, milady.”
“Thank you.”
‘Twas another new habit of hers, offering her thanks and praise to the servants who most deserved it. Something she’d neglected when she first entered the Graystone castle.
Marianne stood and allowed Olma to fetch her cloak. Outside of her chamber stood James, sniffling miserably with cold.
Marianne eyed his red nose and squinting, watery eyes with pity. Though the air outside was becoming more and more chilled, and other serfs and men-at-arms sneezing violently, she could not help but think his malady was her doing.
Having him chase her about the castle and out in the cold those many times was surely the cause.
“I suppose ‘twould do no good to offer you the chance to stay in the great hall by the fire?”
He shook his head and sneezed, turning his head so that the sneeze pointed away from her and then sniffing loudly. “Nay, bilady. I hab my orders.”
Why did William still bother with having her followed like this? She was no longer at risk to flee the castle at any small provocation.
“Olma, you may tend to him while I visit Mare. I will not be long so there is no point in having you both so near.”
Marianne had finally settled with calling the old mare Mare when it became apparent it was the only name to which the horse answered.
Olma bobbed, smiling under her headdress as she and James accompanied Marianne through the corridors and outside. The air was dry and cold, piercing and prickling her cheeks. Her breath clouded in the air.
She looked up at the gray sky, the clouds made a low ceiling over her head. “We shall have snow tonight I think.”
She ignored James’ groan