Page 6 of No Ordinary Lady

Marian approved of that.

She was not overly concerned about the low morals of gentlemen, or even women. In fact, she was always surprised by decency. In her book, as long as a man was kind to his servants, didn’t beat his lovers or wife and children, he could do as he pleased everywhere else.

Yet they said most rakes ended up married. Reformed. Marian shuddered. Imagined there might be a man who looked at her, knew her past as a thief, and thought, “I’ll make an honest woman of her.”

Marian couldn’t help but laugh and then immediately pictured the handsome man she’d met today on his knees. Begging for her hand in marriage. Such folly.

But he was a man who might have had a chance to lure her away from the scandalous life she led. There was something in his eyes and his smile that suggested he’d be fun to play with.

Marian let out a soft sigh, and closed her eyes, taking the sounds of the woods into her soul and picturing the fellow’s handsome face poised above her. His lips parted right before he kissed her witless. He’d probably be a good lover for someone worthy of the honor.

“We waited too long to strike yet again,” Tommy complained suddenly. “He can’t even see it.”

Marian’s eyes flew open, but there was no Tommy standing in front of her. She turned but stayed hidden, curious to know who he was talking to.

“But you can,” Beatrice crooned. “How much longer will you put up with this? Can’t you see she’s taking over, and the old man is letting her? We decided to take the carriage tomorrow morning, and she thinks a few worthless trinkets today are something to crow about. When that fellow discovers he’s had his pockets picked, he’ll be on his guard tomorrow and we won’t get the rest.”

“He’ll alert the authorities.” Tommy growled darkly. “I should have wrung her neck there and then!”

Marian made herself as small as she could, keeping quiet as she listened to Tommy and Beatrice complain about her actions, her commitment to protecting their lives apparently worthless to them. She was only doing what uncle had taught her to do. Rob the rich, and pass along the wealth to him and make sure they never get caught.

Tommy, Beatrice, and even Billy had been taught the same thing, and each did it in their own way.

“The girl served her purpose, but she’s become too soft for this game,” Beatrice told him. “It’s the boy.”

“Never you mind the boy. We need him,” Tommy argued. “But not her. Not anymore. One of these days, her loud protests will be remembered and draw too much attention to us.”

Marian gaped. She had been with Crossman longer than Tommy. Why, if not for her soft heart, Tommy would still be begging on a street corner.

“Crossman won’t leave her behind without a good reason,” Beatrice warned. “She’s his family, and he’s sentimental about her.”

“She’s no more related to him than I am, and I can guarantee he leaves her behind now,” Tommy promised ominously. “Crossman’s gotten his money’s worth from the chit, but he can’t abide disloyalty.”

“She seems loyal to me,” Beatrice murmured. “What makes you think otherwise?”

“She can’t abide disloyalty either,” Tommy said, and then he chuckled. “Crossman only took Marian in lieu of a payment when her pa died. He told me he tried to sell Marian off to the highest bidder once, but the child somehow escaped and returned to him, never realizing Crossman was behind it. Since then, he’s made a fortune selling her in every village. But he can’t do that forever. Soon he’ll have to put her to work in other ways and miss high and mighty won’t like that one bit. Crossman’s first loyalty is always to the money, and if he thinks she betrayed him today, he’ll never trust her again. And if she somehow learns the whole truth, she’ll be gone by nightfall.”

There was a long pause. “What are you going to do?”

“It’s done. I’ve made sure he’ll see his pet is a liability he can no longer afford to keep. When we get back to the village, ask to borrow her cloak and make a show of checking her pockets in front of Crossman.”

Marian remained still, confused, and outraged by what she’d heard. She’d always been utterly loyal to Uncle Crossman and everyone in their troupe. She had never kept a single thing that her uncle hadn’t given her first. She’d held nothing back.

But now Tommy claimed Uncle Crossman wasn’t actually her uncle, and he was working on some scheme to set Crossman against her. He’d obviously planted something in her cloak to prove it.

Marian glanced at her cloak, lying just out of reach. She couldn’t move to check and pressed her fingers over her lips to hold in a growl of frustration. Crossman had been like a father to her all these years. She’d thought he had protected her from men like the stranger who had tried to take her away from him when she was a little girl.

But was it all a lie?

Her whole life. Gone in the blink of an eye. How could she not have suspected she was being used? She would never have trusted Crossman if she’d understood.

But she’d been so young, though, when she’d been orphaned and grateful that Crossman had taken her in and put food in her empty belly. But he’d never once said they were not related when she’d called him uncle.

Her eyes stung with tears as she recalled all those moments of affection between them, a twisted lie that made her feel soiled. The pinched cheek, the fond pats on the head when she offered him what she’d taken from strangers.

Marian shrank from those memories as they took on new and horrible meaning. Crossman had treated her like a pet. Like property.

“She knows too much for him to simply let her go,” Beatrice warned. “We can’t risk her running to the authorities and telling tales about us, either.”