Rebellious Secrets (Secrets of the Heart Series Book 3) Page 2
“Forget I ever saw you?” she asked, wondering if this man thought she was a fool. “Nay, I will do naught of the sort. You’re stealing!” she spat. “You are a thief, and I am not about to turn away and let you leave here with things that don’t belong to you.”
“And what are you going to do about it?” he asked with a chuckle. “Fight me with that mighty sword? I’m surprised you can even hold the bloody thing.”
“Then you’ll be surprised by this as well.” Maira lunged forward, swiping her sword at the man.
Startled, he stepped back quickly. The tip of his sword lowered in the process. From his sudden motion, the bag fell from his shoulder. Imanie’s possessions spilled out over the ground. “Your blade ripped my tunic,” the man said in shock. His hand fingered the cloth over his chest.
“Put down your sword and get on your horse and ride away,” she repeated his warning back to him. “Do it, or the next move I make will be my blade ripping through your flesh instead.”
“Egads, what’s the matter with you, wench?” growled the man. “Don’t you know I could kill you right where you stand before you even have a chance to strike again?”
“We’ll see about that!” She shot forward and her sword clashed with his. When he moved, the hood fell from his head, enabling her to see his handsome face. He had sun-kissed golden skin. That told her he lived in the elements, or spent a goodly amount of time outdoors. And by the simple clothes he wore that blended in with the earth, she realized he must be a peasant. However, his fighting skills were as strong as those of a nobleman. Plus, he owned a sword. This made her very confused.
“I highly doubt a common thief could best me where my fighting skills are concerned,” she told him. “I have learned from the best.” She lunged forward and he parried.
“I must admit, I’ve never seen the likes of this,” said the man. “Tell me, how does a wench know how to handle a weapon? Or for that matter, how does such a little thing like you even hold up a heavy sword at all?” His sudden interest in her felt good. She liked to be noticed for her strengths instead of scoffed at because of them. Especially from a man.
“Not that I need to tell you anything, but my sword is lightweight and is made especially for a lady,” she bragged, continuing to spar with the man, “And I’m not a wench! I am Lady Maira Douglas,” she answered proudly. “My father is the legendary Rowen the Restless. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
“The pirate?” The man’s brows arched. “Ah, that is why you can fight like a cutthroat.”
“My father is no longer a pirate, and I don’t fight like a cutthroat!” She didn’t like this man’s assumptions. It only angered her more than she already was. In one motion, she shot forward with her sword leading the way. But once again, the man agilely stepped aside. He was quick on his feet. Maira almost fell trying to stop abruptly. She spun around to see the stranger smiling as if he were amused.
“If I’m not mistaken, your father is a bastard of the late King Edward,” he said.
“That’s right.” She raised her chin and looked at him down her nose. Whoever he was, he needed to respect her. “My father is a nobleman, so you’d better stop calling him a bastard,” she said through gritted teeth. “He is a lord and very respected by his people. He is not a common thief like you.”
“Really?” His sword pushed hers to the side. “Then correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t your father as well as his brothers once referred to as the Demon Thief? They stole from their own father – the king! If that’s not thievery, I don’t know what is.”
Maira flinched inwardly. She’d been hoping the man didn’t know about all that. He must have heard it somewhere. It was hard to scare or impress him with her words when he already knew all about her family secrets.
“What’s your point?” she asked the stranger. Her sword clashed with his once again.
“Why do you fight like a man when you are naught but a woman?” he rallied.
“I don’t like you using the word naught,” she spat. Her fury rose. “I am going to turn you in to the earl for theft. He’ll have you thrown in the dungeon.”
He stepped back, pulling the tip of his blade away from her. Then he chuckled. “This isn’t the earl’s land so he has no authority to do anything to me.”
“Then I’ll tell my cousin, King Richard, since it’s his land. He’ll have your head for trespassing and stealing from a dead woman’s cottage.”
“Whose place is this?” he asked with a nod of his head toward the house and garden.
“That’s none of your concern.” Once again she shot forward. His movements were graceful as if he were doing a dance. He spun around and when he faced her once again, he made a wide swoop, managing to disarm her. Her sword was knocked from her grip and clamored to the ground. Then his foot shot out and he swept her off her feet. Maira landed with a thud on her back with the air knocked from her lungs. When she reached for her dagger, the tip of his sword under her chin kept her from moving further.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he warned her.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she begged, not wanting to die this way. Had she been too bold to go up against a man in a real battle?
“I don’t kill ladies.” His proffered hand shot out and he waited. His steel gray eyes met hers and their gazes interlocked. All thoughts of kicking him in the groin, biting him, or pulling another blade on him, fled her mind when she saw the sweep of his perusal down her body and then back up, settling on her mouth. “Lady Maira,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice rattling in her chest. It wasn’t often she encountered such a handsome – and dangerous man with her name upon his tongue. “You look so small and frail, yet you have the tenacity of a wild boar protecting her young.”
“Wild boar?” Her eyes shot upward and she narrowed them. “I don’t like being compared to such an animal.”
“Well then, let me rephrase that.” Without waiting for her to take his hand, he reached out and pulled her to a standing position. His hand lingered and she felt the warmth of his palm in hers. It was intimate, exciting, and dangerous. She’d never felt this way about any man before. “You look like a queen with that crown on your head. And you possess the confidence of a ruler as well. However, your fierce demeanor, being a woman and all, really intrigues me.” He released her hand, reaching for her crown. His fingers skimmed over the jewels and, for a moment, she thought he was going to steal it from her.
Not wanting to wait for that to happen, she pushed him away and drew her dagger, pointing it at him. “Don’t touch my crown. You can’t have it,” she spat.
He smiled again, sighed, and then used his foot to flip her sword up from the ground. He caught it in one hand with his sword still clutched in the other. “If you insist on challenging me, then let’s at least make it a fair fight, shall we?” He handed her sword to her, hilt first.
Her eyes darted down to the sword and then back up to his face. Her heartbeat sped up. What was he doing? She waved her dagger in the air in front of him. “This is a trick, I know it is.”
“A trick?” The thought seemed to amuse him.
“You want me to reach for my sword so you can run your blade through my heart when I do.”
“I assure you, I would never do that, my lady. Now, please, retrieve your sword.”
Cautiously, and keeping her eyes on the thief, Maira reached out for her sword. When she did, he knocked the dagger from her hand and pulled her close to him. She landed hard up against his chest, trapped in his strong arms.
“I knew you’d trick me! Let me go,” she shouted.
“I only wanted for you to realize how dangerous it is for a lady to be wielding a sword. No matter how well trained you are, you still will never be a match for any man’s strength.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her eyes focused on his lips as well. Then she beca
me confused. For a moment, when he leaned closer to her, all she could think about was kissing him. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as she anticipated the sensuous, yet strong lips of this stranger pressed up against hers. It might have happened, but Morag interrupted as usual.
“Maira? What are ye doin’?” came Morag’s voice from the gate as she rode her horse inside the secret garden. Maira’s eyes sprang open. She kneed the man in the groin to release his hold on her. He let out a groan and stepped away.
“You are a feisty sprite, Lady Maira. For some reason, that excites me. But now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.” He handed her sword back to her and turned to leave.
“Wait!” she called out, following him to his horse. “You are not taking Imanie’s things.”
“They’re going to go to good use,” he said, grabbing the satchel and mounting his horse. “Besides, you told me the woman was dead, so what does it matter?”
“You are starting to sound like my cousin, Willow,” she retorted. “Now, give those things back to me, you thief.”
“Nay, I won’t. You’d be best off to go back to the castle, now, where you belong. Do some embroidery or play your harp, my lady. Because behind a blade is no place for any woman to be.”
“How dare you talk to me that way! You don’t even know me.”
He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and turned his horse to face her. “I know that you need to go back to the castle where there are men to protect you from people like me.”
“I don’t need a man. I can protect myself.”
“Can you, now? I suppose that was what you were doing with your eyes closed and your head tilted back, waiting for a kiss?” He nodded, looking smug as if he had proven his point. Then he took off toward the gate, managing to infuriate her even more by leaving in the middle of this conversation.
“I let you do that,” she called out after him. “I could have stopped you if I had so wanted.”
“Maira, who was that?” asked Willow, looking over her shoulder as the man left the garden. Morag led the way and Fia brought up the rear as they rode in a single line.
“I’d say by the looks of that sack of Imanie’s things over his shoulder that he’s a thief.” Fia was the cousin who could read people. She was also very observant and had the ability to tell by one’s actions or words things that others could not see.
“He was handsome,” said Willow, always liking the men.
“Ye are married now, Cousin,” said Morag. “Stop lookin’ at the men. Ye have one! Leave them for Maira and me.”
“I can still look but, honestly, I only have eyes for Conrad,” Willow assured her with a dreamy look upon her face. “I rather like being married.”
“Don’t leave them for me, because I’m not interested,” said Maira. “And Willow, you’ve only been married for a sennight. We’ll see if your eye starts to wander and if your opinion changes any time soon.”
“It won’t! I assure you. I’ve reformed from flirting with men,” Willow said with a smug nod. “I might still have to use my powers of persuasion on occasion since it is my duty as a member of the Followers of the Secret Heart. But if I do, it’ll only be a job and not for pleasure.”
“Well, don’t waste your skill on that man,” Maira told her, nodding toward the gate. “He is a man that none of us will ever want.” She reached over her shoulder and slid her sword into the leather scabbard that was attached with a harness to her back.
“Why would ye say that?” asked Morag, always wanting to know more.
“Because, like Fia said, he is a thief.” Maira walked over and rubbed the nose of her horse.
“Then perhaps we should go after him,” suggested Fia.
“Aye, we need to tell the earl,” added Willow.
“Don’t bother.” Maira shook her head “He’s not important. He’s naught but a petty thief in the night, stealing items from a dead woman. His actions here were stealing from the king, not the earl, since the secret garden is in the king’s royal forest. The earl cannot do a thing about it. Now, the reason I called you all here was because I’m sure you heard from Morag by now that my father has betrothed me.”
“I think that thief liked you,” said Willow, looking over to the gate where the stranger had already disappeared. Her thoughts focused on him instead of Maira. “You seemed to like him as well.”
“I agree,” answered Fia.”
“We fought, and I kneed him in the groin,” Maira pointed out. “I hardly think there was anything but animosity between us.”
“Nay, that’s no’ true,” said Fia with a shake of her head. “I could tell by both his and yer body actions that there was more to it than that.”
Maira cringed inwardly. Sometimes, her cousin Fia’s natural skill of being able to read people was invading. Maira didn’t like anyone peering into her mind. It was hard to keep a secret from Fia.
“When we entered the garden, it looked like you two were going to kiss,” Willow pointed out. “I could see your head tilted back and your eyes closed. And he had his hand on your chin.”
Dang, the seductive cousin of the bunch would have spotted that a league away.
“Stop it, all of you,” said Maira, feeling very uncomfortable about this whole situation. How can you say those things? That man told me to go back to the castle where the men could protect me. He even told me to embroider and play a harp and to give up swinging a blade! Can you believe that?”
“I canna,” said Morag making a face. “After all, I dinna think ye even ken what to do with a needle, or a harp.” She chuckled. “It’s no’ like ye’ve ever tried either of those things.”
“Morag,” said Maira, glaring at her. “Hold your whee as the Scots would say.”
Morag rolled her eyes and shook her head. “At least get it right, dear cousin. It’s haud yer wheesht.”
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter.” Maira tired of talking of the stranger. “That man’s opinion of how a lady should act is the way most men think. It’s disgusting.”
“He’s right that a lady shouldn’t be acting like a man,” said Willow, fussing with her hair. She was too feminine at times and the exact opposite of Maira.
Fia spoke up next. “Remember, Maira, ye need to let men think that way. I hope ye didna do anythin’ to make him suspicious.”
“Nay.” Maira looked down and played with the reins in her grip. “Not really.”
“Maira, ye didna use yer weapons around him, did ye?” asked Fia. “We are supposed to keep our skills a secret and no’ alert anyone by usin’ them openly.”
“Fia, ever since you got married and had a baby you worry like an old hen,” snapped Maira. “I may have used my sword but it was only to protect myself, I assure you.”
“It didn’t look to me like you were in any danger from him,” said Willow.
“Aye,” agree Morag. “Ye two were standin’ very close, like lovers.”
“Lovers?” This interested Willow. “Maira, you almost had me believing that you didn’t like men. I guess it was all an act after all. I knew it!” Willow thrust her chin in the air and pushed back a lock of her long, ebony hair.
“Ye’d better stop kissin’ the men since ye are leavin’ on the morrow to get married,” added the meddlesome Morag.
“I wasn’t kissing him and I’m not marrying anyone, no matter what my father and the earl think.” Maira wanted this nonsense to stop. She wouldn’t be swayed by anyone to wed a man against her will.
“Then who will ye marry?” asked Morag.
“No one!” she snapped. “Don’t you understand? I’m a warrior, not a feeble noblewoman that will sit at her husband’s side like an obedient dog. Besides, no man would want a lady warrior for a wife, just like that man said.”
Her eyes roamed over to the gate. Something about the stranger intrigued her yet she couldn’t put a finger on why he kept her interest. This man was nothing but a peasant – a mere commoner. He shouldn’t have even been talki
ng to her since she was a descendant of the crown. Her thoughts went back to the way his hand felt pressed against hers, and the strong muscles she felt under his tunic when she’d laid her hands on his chest to steady herself. Why did she like it? She’d never felt this way before. And she shouldn’t be feeling this way since she was now betrothed to someone else.
An alliance with the High Sheriff of Durham would be a smart move. Her father and the earl were right about that. But this didn’t interest her in the least. Instead, all she could think about was the stranger who had held her in his arms so intimately. It was wrong, but Maira now felt like her flirtatious cousin, Willow. Part of her wanted, once again, to be in the stranger’s arms even though he was naught but a common thief in the night.
Chapter 2
Sir Jacob Quincey looked over his shoulder as he rode back to his camp that was located deep in the king’s forest. He needed to be more careful. Getting caught stealing, especially by the late king’s granddaughter wasn’t going to help his cause. Nay, it would only come back to haunt him and bite him in the arse in the end. He couldn’t risk such carelessness when his mission was so close to being completed. He wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to keep him from his goal. After waiting and preparing for this for three long years, it was finally time to take action.
“Jacob, over here,” came a muffled voice from the bushes. Jacob stopped and directed his horse to where his squire, Will, was hiding in wait for him. “Did you get anything we can use?”
“I did.” Jacob dismounted, scanned the area and held out the burlap bag to Will. “The iron poker can be used to make a weapon, as well as the gardening tools. I also grabbed a few trinkets as gifts for the women in the village. They are starting to get worried that their husbands and sons will be killed. I thought a gift or two would keep their tongues from wagging and spilling our secret about the upcoming attack. They’ve all been so good in keeping quiet for so long that I can’t have a few last minute scared wenches ruining the only chance I have.”
Will took the bag and started to dig through it. “I thought you said you were investigating Castle Rothbury to try to get a hold of some more real weapons. With only our makeshift ones and the ones we’ve repaired from the battlefield, it’s going to be nearly impossible to beat trained soldiers who are well equipped. Did you find a way for us to get in and out of Rothbury without being noticed?”