Lady Thief Read online

  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 passing, but we were let pass at every point.

  “I can damn 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 were—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. Damn 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 same—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?”

  “Yes and no,” I said. “I defied laws to be sure, but I acted for the people and that is always meant to be in respect for the Crown.”

  The prince sighed. “Good Lord, Gisbourne, how on earth do you suffer this? Lady Leaford, you hadn’t the right to take action, and acting as an outlaw will always be unlawful, naturally.” He sniffed. “That said, in marriage your sins fall to your husband, and I have absolved him of them. You are free to earn my good graces.”

  “Grace may well be beyond her grasp, my lord,” Isabel said soft to him. It weren’t near soft enough, and I glared at her.

  The prince chuckled. “Perhaps indeed, my love.” He took her hand, playing with her fingers before drawing them to his mouth to kiss them. “Gisbourne, isn’t my princess very wise?”

  “Yes, your Highness.”

&n
bsp; “And beautiful too, isn’t she?”

  I couldn’t much see Gisbourne, but Isabel were looking at him, and her face didn’t look so pinched and catlike now. She blinked her eyes wide.

  “Always, your Highness,” Gisbourne said, and his voice were rough.

  The prince sniffed again and waved his hand, leaning forward a little to meet my eyes. “Now, Lady Marian. This is my land, and as such, I will be the one to act for the people, do you understand?”

  I stared back at him.

  “You are a noble lady, and a wife. If you continue such flagrant disregard for my royal authority, I will punish you and my forgiveness will be beyond your reach. I strongly encourage you to cleave to your husband, be a good little girl and be dutiful and pious in all things. And Gisbourne, you might want to think about how the behavior of your wife reflects on your authority. Particularly the authority provided by certain positions?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  Gisbourne made some kind of a grunt.

  Prince John smiled. “Now, Lady Leaford, you may kiss my ring and go.”

  Kiss my ring—like he were the damn king. He weren’t even his brother’s heir, only third in line to the throne, and he could sit here like a monarch. I stood still, but Gisbourne’s fingers caught my elbow to drag me up and were grinding the bones like he were trying to make bread with them.

  Finally I stood and stepped forward, kneeling before the prince to kiss the Angevin seal imprinted in gold.

  He smiled at me, but all I saw were teeth.

  Gisbourne dragged me out into the antechamber. As soon as we were there he raised his hand to hit me again and I slammed my good hand into his throat and my knee into his bits. “Don’t you ever strike me,” I snarled at him.

  De Clare were still there and he strode over to me, grabbing my injured hand and squeezing. A scream bubbled up but I shut my mouth and it came out a yelp. He did it harder, twisting, and I fell.

  “Trash,” he spat at me. “How dare you hit a lord!”

  Gisbourne were grunting but I couldn’t even see him. De Clare squeezed again and I couldn’t stop the scream from coming.

  The door burst open with Winchester filling it, but it weren’t needed. Gisbourne had his sword out, and I were fair shocked to see it weren’t pointed at me.

  “Unhand her,” he rumbled.

  Winchester crossed his arms as de Clare stared at Gisbourne. “I was helping you give the little bitch what she deserves!” de Clare said, his fingers still mashed in my broken hand.

  “She is a lady of the court,” Winchester told him.

  He dropped my hand, and one of the knights caught me up before I fell. Lot of good they were when he were squeezing.

  “Apologize,” Gisbourne said.

  “You’ve lost your mind, Gisbourne,” de Clare said.

  “No one ever said I was sane, de Clare. She’s my wife and I’ll be the one to show her discipline.”

  De Clare folded over to give me a mock bow. “My apologies, my lady.”

  Gisbourne sheathed his sword, satisfied, but Winchester’s mug were still storm-filled and dark. “Come along, Marian,” Gisbourne said, and Winchester’s glare twisted to de Clare.

  Gisbourne said nothing until we were back in his chambers. Then he let me go, pushing me forward, and he yelled out the door for some ale. He slammed the door shut, and I sat in the window, opening the shutter a space and trying hard to keep the water in my eyes.

  “You’re a stupid, foolish peasant,” he growled at me, sitting before the fire. “I told you to speak right to the prince. I told you to behave.”

  “The prince!” I snapped. “With his royal authority. What authority? He ain’t the damn king. He’s a spoiled boy.”

  “He’s a prince!” Gisbourne roared.

  “He’s your master,” I snarled. “And what, five years your younger? Were you taking orders before he could even hold a sword?”

  “You idiot girl,” he growled. “Just shut up, be still, and do what you’re damn well told. I wouldn’t have to hit you if you’d just do what I tell you.”

  “Keep hitting, see what happens,” I snapped. They were brave words, but they weren’t as honest as they should have been. My arm felt like it had splintered apart like a block of wood.

  His eyes were fixed on the fire. “I can hit harder, Marian.”

  “I’m fair shocked you didn’t let de Clare snap my damn hand off,” I spat at him. “Doesn’t matter to you none.”

  He whipped round in the chair, his eyes blazing hotter than the flames. “Doesn’t matter? Are you daft? For him to strike you is an insult to my honor. A grave insult that I will not allow.”

  I spat on the ground. “You have no honor.”

  He lunged from his chair, coming to me to loom over me, all darkness and hulk and shadows. “My honor is the only thing that means anything to me.”

  I stared back at him. “Then you have no thought as to what it means. I’m no innocent, so I can’t say I ain’t earned whatever pain you put me to. But you’ve killed children. Without a sin to their name. Honor knows nothing of that.”

  “I protect my own. My name. Nothing else matters.”

  Turning my hand, I looked at the new spots of blood on the bandages. “Damn fine job of protecting me you’re doing,” I told him.

  He caught my chin and dragged me up, looking full in my eyes. His were dark, like oil skating over midnight water, and looking in them felt like falling into black. “Are you mine, Marian?”

  My body set to trembling. “You know that answer, Gisbourne.”

  He let me go, looking away, the black waters drying up. “I do. And yet, you came. With bruises on your face, when all of Sherwood defends you.”

  “For the annulment.”

  His lip curled. “Naturally. And yet I wonder if it wasn’t your sweet Huntingdon who has been dishonoring you the same way I’m wont to do.”

  “Rob wouldn’t never raise his hand to me. Rob wouldn’t never hurt me,” I said, my mug hot and my blood running fast. “Rob loves me more than he loves his self.” It were all I could manage to say the words clear and true.

  My eyes set to leaking and I went for the door, near knocking a servant with a tray of ale. I passed her and bare made it another bend in the hall before my mug burst with water. I ran.

  I ran through the snow. I made it to the gates, to the towering walls of stone what kept me from Sherwood, from Rob, from the forest that kept some shadow wraith of Scarlet while Marian were here and skirted and chained. And I stopped.

  “My lady?” called a knight, coming close to me. “My lady, it’s freezing. Allow me to see you back,” he said.

  He reached for my arm, and I whipped away from him. “Don’t touch me,” I told him.

  Much’s words rang in my ears: you never give up. It seemed like a curse more than anything.

  If it were true, and Gisbourne were set to be the winner before the competition even began, then I weren’t sure what I could do to stop him being sheriff. I didn’t have a plan, much less a second plan.

  All I had were fear, and worry, and faith. Faith that when the time came, I would know what to do.

  My feet were cold and heavy as they climbed back up through the baileys. When they stopped, I were in a dark, cold room of stone. I moved past the pews like a ghost and fell onto the kneelers by the dais in the old chapel.

  It didn’t seem right to cry while you prayed. It seemed selfish to talk to God in such misery. My only sister had died so long ago. My band were in a forest that didn’t feel like mine anymore. My love were kept from me by an awful ring on my finger, and it seemed God were the only one left to cry to.

  Chapter Eight

  I went back to Gisbourne’s room after night fell. He weren’t there; I had passed the main hall and knew most of the gathered court were there to feast with the prince. I felt like a shadow in the halls, and it weren’t something I could stand.

  I searched the room for my knives, but I couldn’t find wher
e the lady servant hid them. I reckoned Gisbourne had a hand in that. Course, it weren’t hard to figure out where he kept his money, either, and I took a fair bit of that and stashed it behind the shutter where the lady servant couldn’t strip it from me.

  Fetching new linen wrappings from the dry storage, I peeled the old ones off my hand and tossed them in the fire. It were bleeding a fair bit, the stick that had set it broken. I used the fire poke to hack off a bit of a fireplace log and set that in its place. My hand were double-thick and raw and sore as anything. Cradling it to me, I curled up in the chair by the fire with one of the furs from the bed and went to sleep. He were a loon if he thought I’d be sleeping in the bed with him.

  Gisbourne slammed into the room late and well drunk. I woke but didn’t open my eyes none. I stayed quiet and still as I felt him loom over me, blotting into dark the light of the fire.

  He didn’t touch me. I heard noises, and him moving away, then the bed creaked and the curtains rushed over the bar.

  I opened my eyes. His clothes were strewn on the floor, and the bed were covered over with drapes. I shut my eyes again, clutching my hand to my heart, trying to remember what all this hurt were for.

  Waking early seemed the best way to skirt round him. I tried to put on my own things but it were damn difficult and I had to call for the lady servant. I bid her hush and do it quiet, and she obeyed me.

  It would be a few hours yet before Gisbourne rose, and it felt like the closest I’d get to freedom for a long stretch. I retrieved the purse and went for the marketplace.

  Even the market had changed. Nobles were still arriving, trailing behind the prince in a progress, and with them came merchants and sellers of every sort. The market were jostling and full, and slipping into the people put me at ease.

  I bought knives from a merchant I liked that most days were up in Leicester. I got two sets of cheap ones for the coin I’d filched, and as I were paying and the merchant turned, I caught a wrist with his fingers around a blade hilt.

  “Don’t,” I warned soft, my eyes flicking up to the man who owned the wrist.