Lady Thief - By Rizzo Rosko Page 0,7

gray stone towers, matching the sky so well that for a moment she thought they stretched into each other and became one. Would her new husband lock her into one of those stone towers? She shivered.

Her home had never been a truly merry place since the death of her final living brother, but ‘twas familiar and held memories dear to her. This place, this castle that towered above her like a prison, was hardly calling for Marianne to enter its doors with a smile.

She turned her eyes back to the servants and saw them moving apart to give Lord Gray space to descend the steps.

He was the same man she had met and married in that church, she knew, but his eyes were different, holding the triumphant air of a man who had just been given what he wanted most, but dark with anticipation for when he could play with it, or break it.

Marianne quickly lowered her face before he could lock eyes with her, and her cheeks heated. Her shame too great to challenge him just now.

Her eyes pointing down, Marianne saw there was something amiss about his step, a happy spring that had not been in his eyes.

The heat in Marianne’s face left her and she was instantly alert. Something was not right. Happiness did not exist in him at this moment.

He had something planned.

Her husband called out, but not to her. “Sir Guy Holton,”

Her father opened his arms to him. “Lord William Gray.”

Marianne watched with her mouth dropped as the two men bowed to each other quite formally before embracing like brothers, and much back slapping ensued.

Marianne tried to mask her disgust with her father’s behavior. ‘Twas difficult, however, so instead she pretended that if she refused look at them, they would not see her. Her attempt was unsuccessful.

Her father put an arm about her shoulders and forcefully pushed her forth, even as she resisted by digging her heals into the rocks. “But of course you already know my lovely daughter.”

The warm, confident grin with which Lord Gray greeted her unsettled her deeply. She had to avert her eyes and giving him a proper curtsy, one much more deep and polite than the rude thing she’d performed back at the church. Back when she thought he was Blaise.

The humiliation was nearly unbearable.

Then it occurred to her. After weeks of brooding over her foolish choices and the day when she would come here she had not once thought of Blaise, and the color drained from her cheeks.

Blaise would be here. She would have to greet him and behave as a lady towards the one responsible for her current state.

She wanted to blame him for everything, all her misfortunes since she first heard his name and even the ones before then, even though the fault was entirely hers.

Because of her, she was married to a lord and put everyone she involved in her plot in danger. She did not even know what Blaise looked like so she could not make a point of ignoring him. What if Lord Gray had regular guests to his castle? She could not snub everyone in proper dress just because there would be a possibility that it was Blaise.

Turning her head ever so slightly, she caught sight of Archer, struggling to help the other servants remove the luggage and other things she was to keep at Graystone. She wondered if his wife had time to put any salve on his back, and her face softened apologetically. He was too occupied with his task of lifting heavy trunks to pay her any mind.

The look did not go unnoticed by Gray, whose eyes shot towards Archer and noticed him for the first time. Another dark eagerness flashed in their blue depths.

Marianne froze, her heart picking up speed as she waited for him to speak, but Gray did not draw attention to Archer.

Marianne stood tall but struggled to breathe as she wondered whether or not he would keep his promise.

Her father spoke. “My lord?”

Just as quickly, William’s attention was focused solely on her. They had both forgotten his question.

“How could I ever forget such a vision?” His arm flew out, captured her hand before she could pull away, and drew it to his lips.

Marianne’s face became hot at the lie that fell so easily from the lips that gingerly kissed her hand. He spoke softly and his manner was gentle, but his eyes bore hard into hers. She saw the angry soul hidden within. It consumed her