For Love and Honor Read online

  “Past time? Well, yes, I suppose at seventeen I have become impossibly old. In fact, I was just thinking that for my eighteenth birthday next month, you could have a cane fashioned for me, particularly one with a jewel-encrusted handle. I’d especially like it if you could replicate the pattern found on the cross of Saint Genevieve.”

  Grandmother didn’t smile. Instead, she lowered her head so that she was staring at me levelly with her sharp, somewhat watery eyes.

  “Very well. Don’t bother with a cane,” I said with an exaggerated sigh. “A litter for the servants to carry me around will do just fine.”

  My grandmother’s lips pinched tighter, if that were possible, making a shriveled prune of her mouth. She waited, letting the silence stretch between us. And like a tortured man upon the rack, I had no choice but to give in. If she wanted to talk about my future and husbands and marriage and all other kinds of nonsense, then I’d have to pacify her or she’d keep pestering me until I passed out from weariness.

  “I see no need to bequeath the responsibility for running my life upon some poor man who likely won’t have the slightest idea how to placate my obsessive need for bread with cheese in the middle of the night. I think it’s asking too much for any man to have to learn that I really must have both pieces of bread slathered in butter. Do you not?”

  Lillian, my maid, giggled from her seat next to me. This time Grandmother gave a slight cough and lifted her hand to cover her mouth, but not before I caught sight of the smile she was trying to hide.

  She knew all too well that the slightest show of humor would only encourage me to continue. And of course, it did. “Additionally, how could you possibly train a man to put up with my nasty habit of bursting into Latin verb conjugation chants whenever I’m under duress? What man could possibly endure it? The endless litany of amo, amas, amat—”

  “Sabine.” Grandmother’s voice was gentle this time, and the sour lines around her mouth softened. “I am not asking for the impossible. I am simply asking you to consider your options.”

  In the small silver cage wedged between me and Lillian, Stephan trilled several notes as though to encourage me to listen to Grandmother. I scowled at the petite yellow songbird. “Not you too, dear Stephan. I don’t appreciate everyone rising up against me.”

  Perched on a peg that protruded from his brightly painted birdhouse within the cage, Stephan cocked his head, his tiny black eyes regarding me solemnly.

  I slumped back into my seat. Grandmother was asking for the impossible, and we both knew it. There was no man in any realm who would ever want to marry me. I hadn’t had many opportunities to socialize with eligible young bachelors since I was quite adept at sabotaging Grandmother’s courtship plans. Regardless, I wasn’t particularly eager to test my theory of undesirability. The few men I’d come into contact with seemed to place high value on a woman’s appearance.

  With my dull, lifeless brown hair, my plain eyes that were the unappealing brown-green of a swamp, and the smattering of freckles across my thin face, I wasn’t especially pretty. I was too tall for a girl and gangly, lacking all the appealing curves other girls my age already had.

  But my appearance alone wasn’t the issue. If so, I could have settled for some equally unpleasant-looking nobleman, likely someone short and squat with a wart on his nose. In that case, we could have happily had ugly but medium-sized children together.

  No, my plainness wasn’t entirely the problem. If only it were that simple.

  I tugged up the fingertips of my right glove.

  The carriage lurched through a rut in the road, causing me to bounce so high that I nearly banged my head against the low roof. I grabbed on to Stephan’s cage to keep it from toppling to the floor. Through all of the jostling, I could feel Grandmother’s eyes upon me, still awaiting my answer. She sat composed and regal as always.

  As my primary caretaker since my father had died three years ago, Grandmother had made it her mission to turn me into a proper lady. I could admit that I was unconventional. Without a mother to guide me and a father who couldn’t be bothered by a daughter, I’d been able to do exactly as I’d pleased most of the time. But Grandmother had done her best to mold a lump of clay into something useful.

  To give her due credit, she worked valiantly at it. But I wasn’t very cooperative. I liked being eccentric. I saw no point in behaving like other young ladies my age since I would never be like them, no matter how much of a transformation Grandmother made.

  Even so, my lack of zeal hadn’t stopped Grandmother. Now that I was of marriageable age, she wouldn’t consider her job complete until I was wed. Nevertheless, she knew as well as I that no matter my fortune, lands, and title, getting any man to agree to marry me would be difficult once he learned about my blemish.

  “I am positive I shall be able to locate a perfect match for you,” Grandmother said with a note of confidence. “I just need you to be on your best behavior, and to cooperate.”

  “This trip is purely for business,” I reminded her. “As tempting as your matchmaking is, you promised you wouldn’t try to foist me onto all of the noblemen we come into contact with.”

  “The trip can serve more than one purpose.”

  “Not for me.”

  “You are being stubborn, Sabine.”

  “I don’t want to meet any men.”

  Grandmother released a breath laced with impatience. “There are actually some men in this world who care more about a woman’s character than her physical appearance.”

  I snorted.

  “How will you know unless you give someone a chance?”

  “I’m perfectly content without a man.” It was the same excuse I’d provided every time the conversation had come up in recent months. “In fact, Stephan and I have decided that we’ll remain single all the days of our lives and give ourselves over to the pleasure of books, art, and long, leisurely baths in tubs of plum pudding.” I stuck one of my fingers through the cage and gently rubbed Stephan’s black-capped head. “Is that not right, dear Stephan?”

  Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a stop with such force that I tumbled forward onto Grandmother. My lady’s maid banged against the door, and Stephan’s cage fell onto the floor with a clatter. The songbird chirped his concern while I tried to untangle my chemise from the points of my pattens.

  Before I could disengage, the door was wrenched open, and bright light illuminated the interior.

  “Ah, there we are,” came the gravelly voice of a man dressed in a cape, the hood pulled low and hiding his face. Thick leather gloves encircled my waist and lifted me out of the carriage onto the ground. Naturally, I kicked and scratched to free myself. But my captor’s grip didn’t waver.

  “Unhand me this instant.” Grandmother’s voice behind me was sharp enough to slice off limbs. If only it could.

  Within seconds I found myself standing in the muddy road next to my carriage, with Grandmother at my side and the two ladies’ maids behind us. Grandmother huffed and sputtered as she smoothed and brushed her riding cloak and gown.

  Surrounding the carriage stood four bandits dressed in gray cloaks and hoods that likewise hid their faces. One of them positioned himself next to Grandmother and me. Two others had swords pointed at my driver and escort guard. The final bandit surveyed the secluded forest as though to make sure we were indeed alone before he jumped from his horse.

  He swaggered toward the open door of the carriage. “What do you fine ladies have for us today?”

  “We fine ladies have nothing for you except our deepest gratitude for allowing us a reprieve from the bone-jarring ride.” At my glib response, Grandmother pursed her lips. From the fright in her eyes, I knew she was admonishing me to hold my tongue. There was no telling what these wayward souls had planned for us. The less we did to antagonize them, the better it would go. Nevertheless, I couldn’t resist one more verbal jab.

  “Perhaps you’d do us the pleasure of taking our carriage entirely and allowing us your horses
instead.”

  The bandit at the carriage door didn’t acknowledge my suggestion. Instead, he rummaged through the interior before finally pulling back with an ornately carved wooden chest in his hands. He shook it, and at the jangle that ensued, he grinned at his companions. There was something dangerous, almost feral about his smile. “This is what we came for, boys.”

  He fumbled with the latch for a moment before glaring at me. “Where’s the key?”

  Grandmother reached for the reticule hanging by a ribbon from her wrist with jerky motions, a sure sign she wanted to protest. However, she loosened the drawstring and retrieved a key.

  Although I wasn’t entirely jubilant about handing over a pouch of silver to these bandits, I wasn’t too worried. The chest was merely a decoy. The rest of our silver was hidden in a secret compartment under the carriage, awaiting our arrival at Maidstone. Losing one bag wouldn’t hurt my purchasing ability overly much. And I fully intended to buy something. I’d longed for years to see the Maidstone collection, but every time I’d even slightly suggested buying anything out of the collection, the Windsors had been adamantly opposed.

  That opposition had hopefully softened. From what rumors I’d gathered, the family had fallen onto difficult times. When Grandmother informed me of their invitation to visit, I’d been more than a little thrilled and eager. Although I had never seen any of the treasures, I’d heard much about them over the years, and the thought of actually getting to see the pieces at last—and hopefully procure some—had me more excited than a child before Twelfth Night.

  “I must insist that you leave us some of the silver pieces,” I instructed as the bandit took the key from Grandmother. I figured some kind of protest was necessary or he’d grow suspicious. “Surely half of the coins will be enough for whatever revelry you have planned tonight, or perhaps that long-awaited trip to the coast you’ve been eager to take.”

  He guffawed and then jabbed the key into the lock. “If you don’t stop your jabbering, you’ll be lucky if I leave you with half your tongue.”

  I caught a glimpse of a silver blade held by the guard closest to me. “Very well. There’s no need to be testy about it. Take it all, then, if it will make you happy. I suppose when you divide it up amongst the four of you, it won’t go far anyway.”

  As the bandit opened the chest and revealed the glossy silver against the black velvet lining of the chest, his eyes glowed within the shadows of his hood. I still couldn’t see his features clearly, but as his smile widened, I glimpsed unusually sharp teeth, teeth that looked like they were capable of ripping into flesh and tearing it apart, much like a wolf’s.

  Another of Grandmother’s pointed looks told me I needed to be quiet or she would personally cut out my tongue later if the bandit didn’t get to me first.

  I stifled a sigh. When the bandit emptied the silver coins into a pouch and then tossed the chest to the ground, I had to bite back a cry of dismay. He obviously had no inkling of the value of the rare acacia wood box. It was reputed to have been crafted from a board pulled from the ark of Noah himself.

  “What else do you ladies have for me today?” said the fang-toothed bandit, who was clearly the leader of the pack. The rumbling quality of his voice sounded as though he were speaking through a throat full of sand. He turned back to the interior of the carriage and rummaged for a moment.

  When he turned again, he was holding Stephan’s silver cage.

  Dear Stephan fluttered about, his dainty wings flapping wildly, his chirping panicked. I started toward the bandit, my pattens squishing in the mud. “Thank you for rescuing my bird. He’s rather particular about his cage remaining upright. Who would have guessed a bird could care so much? Flying is flying, no matter which way the cage is tilted.”

  The bandit reached for the latch that held the arched door closed.

  “You can’t open that,” I warned, “or Stephan will fly out. He’s so upset, there’s no telling where he’ll go or what he’ll do.”

  “Don’t worry,” the bandit said, working to release the hook that held the door closed. “I won’t let it loose.”

  “Thank you—”

  “I’ll crush the annoying creature with my bare hands.”

  “What? No. You couldn’t possibly.” With growing alarm, I watched as the hook slipped free and the man began to open the door. I glanced around for anything I might use to knock the bandit over the head. I had to find a way to stop him from harming, or possibly murdering, Stephan.

  Other than a branch in the road ahead of the carriage, I saw no other weapon. But even that was too far away to be of much help.

  He reached inside and groped after Stephan, but the little bird darted out of the way.

  “Stop!” I cried, and would have lunged at him had Grandmother not grabbed my arm and wrenched me back with surprising strength. “Take anything else, but leave Stephan alone.”

  His fingers stretched toward the bird again, this time slower and more calculated.

  I struggled to free myself from Grandmother’s grip, my panic mounting with each passing second that Stephan remained in danger.

  “Sabine,” Grandmother hissed. “We can replace the bird, but we cannot replace you.”

  On one level, I understood her warning. If I attacked the bandit to save Stephan, I’d likely put my own life, or perhaps even Grandmother’s, in danger. But it was one thing to stand by and allow these bandits to steal money. It was another matter entirely to watch them kill my bird.

  As the bandit’s fingers inched toward Stephan, my desperation mounted. There was only one thing left that I could do.

  I tugged at my glove and slipped it off.

  “No, Sabine.” Grandmother spoke sharply behind me as she swiped at my arm.

  I took advantage of her loosened hold and broke away. In the same motion I shoved up my sleeve, revealing my pale, almost translucent skin. The whiteness of it only highlighted the horror of what I did my best to conceal at all times.

  “Release my bird,” I said, lifting my arm so that all of the bandits could see the horrible purplish splotches that marred me. The stain started at my wrist and spread up the underside of my arm, stopping at my elbow, as though someone had poured wine onto my skin and forgotten to wipe it clean.

  At the oath of the guard near me and the dropping swords of the other two, I could see my tactic was working. Their faces held all the revulsion and fear that I’d come to expect whenever anyone saw the splotch.

  Ignoring Grandmother’s protests, I held my arm higher. “I hope you realize that anything you take from us may or may not be cursed.”

  Obviously, nothing was cursed. I wasn’t either, even though at times I felt as if I was. I’d done enough research into medical texts to learn that certain skin diseases could be given by a mother to her unborn baby through corrupt blood, tainted or infected food, or even foul air the mother may have breathed. One text attributed the eating of fish and milk at the same meal as being a cause of certain skin ailments. Regardless, even with medical explanations, the markings were still ugly. I was nothing special to look at to begin with, and the blemish only made my situation worse.

  Some people thought the splotches were a mark of the devil. Others believed them to signify that the bearer was a witch. While I’d always loathed the mark, I also had learned from a very young age that I could use it to my advantage when need be.

  “I cannot guarantee what may happen if you take anything that belongs to me,” I said in a voice filled with ill omen.

  Finally sensing his companion’s fear, the bandit leader glanced at my raised arm. He immediately jumped back and dropped Stephan’s cage. I bolted forward and snapped the door closed before Stephan, in all his confusion and terror, could fly out.

  The bandit was backing away from me rapidly, as though I’d grow wings, fly at him, and viciously tear him apart. Good. Let him think that. At least now Stephan was safe.

  I crooned to the frantic bird, trying to calm him as I righted his
cage. At a jangle and splat in the mud, I glanced down to see the pouch of silver next to my feet. I grabbed it. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like at least a few coins for your trouble?”

  But the bandits were already scrambling onto their horses. I couldn’t resist dangling the bag and letting the pieces of silver clank loudly. “Should I assume that’s a no?”

  Within seconds, the thieves were gone. They vanished into the thick forest as quickly as they’d come. Except for Stephan’s chirps, silence settled around us. A few slants of sunlight breaking through the heavy branches overhead only made the dark shadows in the dense foliage loom larger.

  “All I can say is good riddance.” I lifted Stephan’s cage and placed it back into the open carriage. Then I bent to retrieve the carved acacia chest. When I straightened, Grandmother glared at me as though she wanted to take a switch to my backside. Fortunately, our guard and driver were from among our most trusted men and therefore knew about my discoloration. Our ladies’ maids knew about my blemishes too. They were no longer frightened by the sight of the marks.

  “Sabine,” Grandmother started angrily. “What in the name of heaven were you thinking?”

  “I saved our lives.” I wiped smudges of mud from the box.

  “You just put your own life in jeopardy.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  “I am not the dramatic one.”

  I smiled. “I was rather good this time, do you not think? I have a flair for playacting. Perhaps I should consider joining a traveling troupe of players.”

  “This is no mirthful matter, Sabine.” Grandmother’s mouth worked into a hundred deep lines. “What if they run off and tell others about what they saw?”

  I continued to rub at the box, gently clearing away dirt from the carved recesses. “They’re bandits. If they admit to seeing me, then they’re indicting themselves for their crimes.”

  Grandmother gingerly crossed through the mud and stopped in front of me. She didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she held out the glove I’d discarded, now filthy. The anger slipped away from her features and was replaced with a deep, interminable sadness—the sadness that always made my heart hurt. I hadn’t been perfect enough for my parents. My blemish had always disappointed them. And I knew it disappointed Grandmother too.