Lady Thief

Rizzo Rosko

To get back at the man who insulted and
refused her, Marianne Holton kidnaps him and forces him to marry
her before she's sold off to someone much more cruel.

Spirited and virginal Lady Marianne Holton
seeks revenge on Lord Blaise Gray, a man she has never met, for
insulting her by letter and refusing to wed her.
She plans to force
his hand before she is married off to Sir Ferdinand, a much older
man known for his cruelty towards women.
Her plan for a forced
marriage goes well, but she forced the wrong man.
Instead of
marrying Blaise, she married his handsome, thirty-six year old
father, Lord William Gray, Earl of Graystone.

To her delight the plan works, but to her
horror she married the wrong man.

William, a lord who had previously given up
on life, is enraged to have had his hand forced by a woman who had
the audacity to not even know his true identity until it was too
late, and he vows to make use of his new bride as soon as possible.
However, he finds himself unable to destroy the fiery spirit that
took charge of her own destiny, and makes a new vow to protect her
from Ferdinand, and make her his true wife.

By Rizzo Rosko

Published By Rizzo Rosko at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Rizzo Rosko

Cover art done by Kimberly Killion at Hot
Damn Designs

Medieval Romance

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This is a work of fiction.
All of the
characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are
either products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Rizzo Rosko

For my mother

Chapter One

Hampshire, Autumn 1311

Somewhere in the Royal Forest

Lord William Gray
struggled against
his kidnappers, but the hands pressing him to his knees were like
iron.
Ropes squeezed his wrists behind his back and the cloud of
dust that wafted upward under his weight made him choke.

He did not know these men, and not one of
them could match his strength individually, but together the half
dozen of them held him easily.
His face burned with anger.

Now more than ever he wished he’d never put
his sword away those years ago and let his skills rust like they
did.
His laziness had put him in this position.

He struggled to calm himself and regain any
dignity he could.
“I am Lord Gray, I demand to know your names.
Why
have you abducted me?”

Had he vexed anyone recently?
No one came to
mind, no one who would go to these lengths for revenge, at any
rate, and he could only assume they were common thieves.
They were
certainly not dressed as noblemen, but their shoes and breeches
were in well enough condition, if a little old and faded, for them
to be poor enough to resort to such actions.

They brought him to a dilapidated church.
Tumbledown pews provided a home for moss and insects which were
highlighted by the lit candles that barely won the battle against
the dark.
This was not a random act.

The men grinned, some exposing yellowing
teeth, or no teeth at all, and nudged each other.

“We don’ know why the lady wants ye, but
she’s paying us a wealthy sum to not ask no questions.” The
smallest one of the group said.
The man had overly large front
teeth and smelled as if he slept with the pigs and looked very much
as if he would rather be with them than in this church with
William.

Despite the insult of ignoring his command
for names, it took some seconds for the man’s words to sink in.
Surely they made a mistake.

A lady?

William softened his voice.
He would make no
mention of it.
He did not want to be on his knees with a gaping
expression on his face with men who might murder him on a whim.

Best to flatter them.
“But you
do
know, do you not?
This lady of yours would have to have a higher
than normal intelligence to hire such capable men.”

Their attack had been quick, precise, and
planned.
But before he was captured a tingled warning crawled up
his spine.
His hand had naturally wrapped around the handle of the
blade he carried, but before he could pull it from its leather
sheath he was ambushed and pulled from his horse and dragged to the
ground while hands forced his arms to twist tightly behind his
back.

His horse had bucked under the sudden
onslaught of men, but a resounding smack on his rear had sent him
charging into the woods.

While they busied themselves incapacitating
him, he made sure to look at the exposed faces of every man in the
church.

They kidnapped him without bothering to
properly conceal their faces in the sunlight.
Whoever this lady
was, she must have been desperate to trust such people, and foolish
to not take the proper precautions before carrying out her plan.
Which brought him back to the question of why someone would pay for
his kidnapping.

The buck-toothed one did not take kindly to
having his secrets weeded out.
He stood before William in an act of
confident mockery, his short body towering over William’s kneeling
one.
“Ye’re in a house of God, milord, what do ye think she wants
ye fer?”

Before William could shout an indignant
reply, the doors at the front of the church burst open, bringing
with it the brisk, cool wind, autumn leaves and a flash of sunlight
before the doors were quickly shut again.
The hope of the light did
not last but the fresh air reached him and he breathed deeply, a
nice exchange for the damp and stale air of the old church.

The figures that entered were cloaked and
hooded, but the hunched back and the brown color of the first cloak
suggested an older man, while the straight-backed, bright
blue-embroidered cloak wrapped around a taller, slimmer figure
hinted of someone much younger and wealthier.
The hoods they wore
and dim candlelight made it impossible to distinguish any features
save for the delicate hands of a woman folded in the trumpet
sleeves of her gown.

They were slim and fair in color, devoid of
any sign of work or wear.
William imagined they would be soft to
the touch.
They clenched and unclenched nervously as her footsteps
echoed towards him.
William remained on his knees and had a vague
sense of the lumbering fingers on his shoulders disappearing, but
he did not try to rise to greet the lady, or to escape.
All he
could do was stare.

So this was the mysterious lady
kidnapper.

His sense of duty prompted him to bow to her,
even while on his knees with his hands miserably tied behind his
back, but his pride and anger allowed him to give her nothing more
than a nod of acknowledgment.
“My lady.”

She gave a curt curtsy in return.
“My
lord.”

How odd, she managed to make his title sound
insulting.

She lowered her hood, and, bereft of the
proper headdress, revealed a shimmering tangle of windswept red
hair, so bright it commanded his attention and he nearly forgot to
look at her face.

He knew he needed a clear description of the
woman who planned this crime so that he could hunt her down later.
Not many young maidens possessed hair that particular shade of red.
Why did he not recognize her?

Her eyes, cool grey windows with flecks of
blue hiding in their depths, like the morning sky fighting to
emerge after a battle with a storm, flickered with confusion before
they raged.
“Who tied his hands?
Untie him this instant!”

Her face, peppered with freckles, flared to
the same color red at her hair, and the buck-toothed man untied
him.

Through his gentle movements William knew
that while the red-haired woman was in their company, her servents
replaced their confident personalities with humble
dispositions.

William rubbed the tender crater that snaked
into his skin from the biting ropes.
He moved to lift himself to
his feet but the men pressed him back to his knees, which he was
sure were building similar bruising marks.

He glared at her and noted how she said
nothing in his defense this time.
She looked down at him with
curiosity and anxiety glinting in her eyes, hiding herself behind
crossed arms.

Seemed she liked him where he was, but was as
uncomfortable with the situation as her band of kidnappers.
William
was tired of these inexplicable clues being thrown at him but
grabbed at whatever was tossed his way.

Red-haired maidens were known for their fiery
spirit, but he always laughed away the notion.
Women were flighty
and fickle, not brazen and rash.
And now it seemed as if Fate
laughed back at him in the form of such a woman for dismissing the
idea.

Her cold smile was awkward, as though unused
to using her lips in such a manner, and it made him puzzle over her
further.

“Does your seat make you uncomfortable, my
lord?”

He gritted his teeth.
William would ensure he
returned this humiliation in full, with added interest.

“Not at all, my lady.” A shudder crept up her
cloak.
He smiled with pleasure at the small discomfort he was able
to inflict.

She was quick to compose herself.
“May I
inquire as to what age you are?”

The question rocked him on his knees, but he
answered her anyway.
“Six and thirty, my dear, and since you find
no qualm about asking my age, may I ask yours?”

By the look of her he guessed her to be just
above twenty, but he could not pinpoint an exact number.

Her face reddened again, her arms tightening
in their crossed position, and she looked away from him.
“Nay, you
may not.”

William clenched his jaw at her audacity but
held his tongue in check because of their current differences in
position.
He held the kneeling position while hers was one of
power.
For now.

After silently studying him with a finger on
her chin, she approached, her shoes loudly clicking in the
disintegrating church.
Candlelight danced on her skin.
She had the
air of a victorious warrior.

She stared down at him, and he stared back,
unblinking and daring her to make her next move.
She shocked him by
offering her hand.

He took her smaller hand into his larger one,
her skin soft against his rough hands, and he squeezed.
She did not
flinch but dug her nails into his flesh in a warning response, and
he found himself secretly pleased, though he refused to soften his
grip and locked his eyes with her.
They were challenging and
unwilling to move an inch in their silent exchange.

She broke the silence.
“Well?”

He cocked his head, his expression a flicker
of confusion.
“Well what?”

“You are on your knees, I am here, and this
is a church.
You may ask me to marry you now.”