Lady Thief: A Scarlet Novel Part 6

"Wife, my lord?" he asked.

Gisbourne sat up. "The thing that looks like vermin in the window."

Eadric looked at me, and scowling at him didn't make him stop. "Yes, my lord," he said, leaving.

Gisbourne dragged himself up, standing naked before me. My cheeks set to blushing but I stared at him and he stared at me with a frown. "Christ," he muttered finally. He dragged on a pair of hose and an undertunic with a grimace, striding over to me.

My hands went to shakes and I balled the good one into a fist to make it stop.

He reached for me, but I ducked under his arm.

Grabbing my shirt, he whipped me against the wall. "Be. Still," he growled.

I tried to knee him in the bits but he blocked me, using most of his big body to push me back against the wall. He pushed his arm against my pipes and I whipped my head around and some G.o.d-awful sound that were fair close to a whimper came out my mouth.

"Jesus Christ!" he roared in my face. "Stop moving!"

I stopped. I were shaking hard and hating every footstep that brought me here.

He looked at my bruises, it seemed, then let me go. My blood were moving too fast, making me shiver and shake, and I slunk away from him. "Who hit you?"

I spat a curse at him.

"You d.a.m.n well better speak right when we're around other people," he snapped at me. "It's bad enough that you have the hair of a boy. The bruises, however, I can't say I mind."

Eadric and a young woman came back into the room without so much as a knock. I had forgotten this bit of n.o.ble lifea"there weren't never a moment to yourself, never a moment alone.

Which, considering my husband were like to kill me, maybe it weren't such a hardship.

The servants threw open the trunks, and my cheeks filled with blood. One of his G.o.dforsaken trunks was full of women's clothing. For me.

He'd known I would come to him.

The lady's maid had a pot of white and a brush with her, but when she went to paint my face, Gisbourne looked up from where Eadric was dressing him proper. "No," he called. "Don't paint her."

"My lord, the bruisesa""

"Do not make him repeat himself, Mary," said Eadric.

Mary bobbed and set to dressing me instead. First she pulled off my clothing, taking my knives from me one by one, and I felt blushes burn over my whole skin as Gisbourne kept his eyes on me. I shook and felt water in my eyes, but I just glared back at him. She put the long linen dress over my head, then the first kirtle, a heavy tunic that spread to the ground. She put a second one over it, heavier still and lined in fur, that only went to my knees. Then she tugged tight sleeves up over the linen to match the first kirtle, tying them to the tunic.

She clucked over my hair before deciding on a velvet band and gold net that covered my whole head and hair besides. Gisbourne smirked at me, and it were all I could do not to tear it all off and stomp it in the fire.

"Come along, love," he sneered, offering his hand to me.

I walked past his hand without so much as a glance his way.

He lashed out, grabbing my neck like a dog and dragging me backward, fingers biting hard into my skin and making me twist. "You will observe proper etiquette, Marian. You haven't forgotten it, I trust?"

This time I managed to get him in the bits, and he howled and dropped me. "You want me to be some proper thing, you take your d.a.m.n hands off me," I snapped at him.

He straightened with a snarl and took my good hand, squeezing tight and leading me out of the room.

Sometime after I had latched the shutters in Gisbourne's chambers up, it had started to snow. It were something of a blessing, truth be told, because the world weren't near as cold when it were snowing. The servants brought us heavy cloaks lined full with fur, and as little as I liked any of this, I found myself snuggling deep into the cloak. It were uncommon warm and soft and felt like the first thing in months what were kind to me.

We didn't have far to go. The upper bailey were full of n.o.bles in bright, expensive things, all a.s.sembled and waiting for their prince. Most were lords and ladies from the royal court, I reckoned, for none had shown their faces round Nottingham before.

The castle weren't the same, neither. It were clean and tidy, and if there were some of the wall unfinished still, I couldn't see from where I stood. Pine garlands and streamers of cloth were decorating the place, swinging in the breeze to catch the notice of a prince.

The snow were blowing right for my mug, and I kept blinking and sneezing against it.

Gisbourne squeezed my arm overhard. "Be still, you animal," he growled.

I tore my arm away from him.

There were knights that came up the bailey first, causing an awful ruckus with their banners and their armor and their swords clattering around. They parted, and this were a set of two huge snow-white destriers, draped with silks and royal emblems. A man and a woman sat on top of them, and they stood, letting their horses hoof about while more knights came behind them and the "common folk" flooded in last. They were the men from the wall, women from the kitchens, all the castle workersa"a captive, adoring crowd.

The bailiff stepped forward, made small by the prince's display. He said words of greeting to him that I couldn't hear, and then he turned to the people and shouted, "Lords, ladies, and all those a.s.sembled, I give you Princess Isabel and Prince John of England!"

People cheered and clapped for him. I didn't. I weren't the cheering sort. The people weren't cheering for him in truth, they were just yelling to have something to yell for.

And then the big horse shifted again, and I saw across the s.p.a.ce to where people had parted and someone stepped to the front of the crowd.

Rob. It were Rob, and he were staring at me.

"My dear people," the prince shouted, with much more effect than the bailiff had. "I have learned of the grievous wrongs done to you by my former representative, the sheriff of Nottingham. It shall not stand. I have come here to rectify the situation and personally ensure that the man I choose this time is the best for my interests, but most of all, for my people. For you!" he shouted, raising his arms.

The people cheered back at him. He were young, a few years past twenty at best. Younger than I thought of a prince. I knew that he were more than ten years younger than King Richard, but seeing him were strange. You heard so much about a body in legend and stories and song, it were odd to see him true.

He lowered his arms, and the people lowered their cries. "So I shall judge this, fairly by all accounts, and have a contest to ensure the fitness of your lord. In two days time, a tournament shall begin. There shall be three partsa"first, a joust, to prove to you his valor. Second, the melee and contest of swords, to prove to you his strength. Finally, there shall be the crowning eventa"an archery contest, to prove his most sound wisdom, his keen eye, and his superior judgment. To the winner of this final event shall the t.i.tle fall."

My mouth watered to do it but I didn't much dare to spit on the ground. A game? He were choosing the next sheriff based on a game?

The people didn't agree with me. They cheered and cheered, and I looked at Gisbourne, with a fair smug look on his face.

Maybe it weren't even much of a game after all.

Chapter Seven.

The prince dismounted and were led inside. He looked at Gisbourne and motioned him forward, and so Gisbourne grabbed my hand vengeful hard and dragged me forward. I looked back at Rob, standing there still, staring at me. I couldn't see his heart on his face. I couldn't know if he were angry, sad, or hateful toward me.

Gisbourne tugged so hard I nearly fell off my feet, but I were held up by the rush of people, closing like a wake to follow the prince.

Knights set up in the halls, blocking people from pa.s.sing, but we were let pa.s.s at every point.

"I can d.a.m.n well walk!" I snapped as Gisbourne kept his hold on me.

"It's so much more entertaining to drag you, my love," he said, tossing the words over his shoulder.

He stopped sharp at a guarded door. I knew where we werea"this were the sheriff's old quarters, the nicest room in the place. The guards opened the door to an antechamber with still more guards and we went in.

A young lord in an overpuffed green velvet tunic stood there. "Gisbourne," he greeted, with a smile so thin I could bare see his lips, "so good to see you again."

"My lord de Clare," Gisbourne greeted, bowing. "May I introduce to you my lady wife, Marian of Leaford. Marian, this is the future earl of Hertford."

They were both fair staring at me, so I dropped a curtsy and made a face.

De Clare coughed. "Charming," he said with a bow.

Gisbourne's lip were curling. "He wished to see me."

"Yes, well, now he's decided to keep you waiting," de Clare said, sitting on a bench and propping one ankle on his knee. His eyes stayed on me overmuch. "So she doesn't look half as wild as they say. d.a.m.n near domesticated, even." He tapped his eye with a laugh. "I see what inspired the change."

"You should see what I did to him," I spat back.

De Clare laughed and I had half a mind to make him think better of it when Gisbourne's heavy paw slapped across my face.

Pain were hot and blinding and I weren't quite sure how, but I ended up on the floor. De Clare were laughing still and Gisbourne had turned away from me. A knight stooped and offered me his hand with a clatter of armor. Shamed, I pulled away from him and stood up on my own.

"She's still learning," Gisbourne said.

Annulment, I said to myself. I said it so many times the word lost its taste. It made me think of my Rob, and the thought of him and the pain pulsing through my mug suddenly made water push up behind my eyes.

I sucked in a breath and pushed away the tears. I weren't never going to cry in front of Gisbourne.

Something wet were on my chin and I licked the side of my mouth. It stung and my mouth tasted like copper.

"You look pretty in red," de Clare told me with a chuckle. I wiped the blood from my mouth and stared ahead at the door.

The door opened and a taller, immensely broad-shouldered man stepped forward. De Clare swallowed his laugh at the sight of him, and he spared bare more than a glance for de Clare. He took one long step from the door and stopped, bowing and catching my hand. His sheer size made me think he were older than me by far, but he smiled and the light that caught in his eyes made him appear far younger. He couldn't have been more than twenty-five, younger even than my husband.

"My lady Marian," he greeted, kissing my hand. "Forgive my impudence; I know we have not been introduced, but your father has always been a great adviser to me. I am the Earl of Winchester. It is an honor to meet you."

He straightened up and I gave him a curtsy. He frowned as he looked at my face.

"Gisbourne, someone has done injury to your wife," he said, his voice granite-like.

Gisbourne smirked. "Your Grace," he greeted with a deep nod. "I'm hunting the rapscallion down."

"Good," Winchester said, still looking to me. "Any man that harms a woman ought to be flogged." He gave me the littlest of smiles. "Though I hear some women have their own ways of answering such harm."

"Some women do, my lord," I agreed, bowing my head as I were meant.

"I will tell the steward to seat us together at supper, my lady. There is much I would like to discuss with you."

"Your Grace," I said, curtsying.

"The prince will see you now," he said, gesturing us forward.

The room weren't the samea"weren't nothing the same round here. It looked lovely and warm, covered in coffers and fabrics and servants. The pink-cheeked princess sat in a chair by the fire, and the prince were lounging in a chair beside her, picking at a plate of food.

Gisbourne pulled me in front of them like he were presenting me, and I stood there, looking from the prince to the girl and back. "Your Royal Highnesses, may I introduce Lady Marian of Leaford," he said.

"It's traditional to make obeisance, young lady," the prince said.

I swept into a curtsy, the heat of the fire on my back making me sweat.

"Very good," he said. "Gisbourne, I see you've been disciplining her."

Gisbourne nodded his head. "My prince."

"So, you're the girl who is helping Huntingdon cause so much trouble."

I eased up on my knees, starting to pull up.

"Did he say you could rise?" asked the princess. I stopped, frowning at her.

The prince chuckled.

"Yes, your Highness," I said to him.

"Yes, what? Yes, you acted as an outlaw? Yes, you betrayed your loyalty to your country, to your king? Yes, you defied the sheriff, my sworn representative?"

My knees set to burning. "Yes," I repeated.

"Yes, what?" he said again. "Are you sorry for your actions?"

With a grunt I stood straight, rubbing my aching knees. "No," I snapped. "I ain't never going to be sorry, neither. The sheriff were a sorry excuse of a man and I'm more 'an happy he's dead."

The prince's face folded into a sneer. "You're an impudent thing," he told me. "Perhaps you should be on your knees as you beg my forgiveness."

He nodded to Gisbourne, who swung out with his boot to kick the back of my knees. It were a hard target in skirts and I jumped away. "I ain't begging," I snapped. "I never did nothing wrong."

"Kneel, or you will gravely insult the Crown," the prince growled at me. Gisbourne stepped forward to make me, but the prince snapped, "Gisbourne, heel."

Gisbourne's face twisted, but he retreated back to give me room to kneel before the prince.

I could kneel, but I weren't about to beg. Slow, and fair awkward because of my skirts, I took to my knees, staring the prince down. "Your Highness," I grunted.

"Let's try that again. You acted as an outlaw and disrespected the Crown in so doing. Do you admit this?"