Lady Thief - By Rizzo Rosko Page 0,67
always be loyal, always have faith in him, but he clutched her shoulders and pulled her close, crushing his mouth to hers.
Marianne recognized the difference between this kiss and the kisses he gave to her when he tried to stir her interests in loving, or when they performed the act of making love.
This kiss, while desperate, was filled with a different need. She reassured him by returning his brutal kiss and sliding her fingers in his hair. She opened her mouth to him and he groaned and plundered.
When she released his lips, her breath was short. “Every son I bear will be of your blood. Alice was fortunate to have you.”
He smiled that same sad smile at her, refusing to release her. “Blaise hardly believes so.” It was such a sad thing to say.
Images of Blaise, angry and glaring at his father, came to mind, and Marianne knew she had the answer for why he would be so hostile towards the man who raised him as his own.
“My mother died giving birth to me as well,” she said, William’s honesty prompting her to reveal her own secrets. “Though he never spoke of it, I always felt that my father placed the blame on me. He used her death to excuse his gambling habits.”
William rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You believe Blaise places blame on me for the death of his mother?”
She leaned against the warmth of his chest, listening to the beating of his heart within. Such a soothing sound. She could drift off to sleep there. “‘Tis possible. You blame yourself for her actions, and I have seen him with Robert. Perhaps Robert swayed Blaise’s thoughts the way he did with Alice.” Just as William always feared he would.
A thought suddenly occurred to her. Perhaps he was also the reason for Blaise’s cruelty towards her. What if Robert had no desire to see the boy who was his child through blood marry and forget that he existed?
Marianne put the thought away for later. Right now she would focus on her time with her husband. “If Blaise was squired with Sir Ironside, then he must have just completed that training and only recently come under Robert’s influence.”
William sighed. “I had hoped adulthood would sharpen his mind against such an attack. It seems I was mistaken.”
Marianne took his hand into hers. ‘Twas cold when she kissed it. “There is still time. He is your son, regardless of blood. You cared for him. And I must forgive him if there is to ever be peace, then ask for his forgiveness in return.”
William stroked her red hair, the action gentle and tender. Then he wrapped his large fingers around her smaller wrists, his grip tight and unyielding. Marianne was startled when she struggled and he refused to release her. He pressed her wrists into the cold wall behind her.
The sudden tightening in his eyes that formed from the calm waters they once were frightened her. “What are you—?”
“I want you to make a promise.”
She blinked. His blue eyes bore into her own and she knew whatever he wished to say would not wait. “Very well.”
“I do not believe in striking the one who shares my bed, and as my wife I expect the same from you.”
The hand she had slapped him with tingled again, and it had nothing to do with the tightness of his grip. Guiltily, she turned her face away.
He released one of her wrists and lifted her chin, the tenderness in his touch returning.
Marianne took a breath to calm her beating heart and nodded. Her eyes pricked with stinging tears. “I promise. I am sorry.”
He released her other wrist and cupped her cheeks. “Was that so difficult?” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Remember, I have seen you hold your temper in an effort to vex me. I know your capabilities.”
She laughed and wiped her eyes, looking up at him, she wished to tell him more of herself. “I never had a nurse.”
His eyebrows flew up at her words. “Nay?”
She shook her head. “‘Tis no excuse for my behavior, but I never had a nurse to teach me to be a lady. Everything I know I learned from Reggie.”
“Reggie?”
She nodded and continued to wipe the cold tears from her cheeks. “My brother, Reginald. He tried to teach me as much as he could about running a household—”
William nodded. “I recall you spoke of them. Their graves.” He spoke the last part awkwardly then cleared his