What a Lass Wants Read Online Free Page A

on avenging his family honor. But her mother had been a Scot, and to the other ladies, that meant she was a lesser being. “Who is this man who decreed we stay locked inside?”
    “The marshal. A man sent by the monks to ensure we are well cared for.”
    Lifting the hem of her blue satin bliaut, Caitrina made for the door. “I will speak with him.”
    “What right have you to interfere?” asked Etienne. “You are a commoner.”
    The barb stung and Caitrina wilted a little, but she still halted and spun around. Her mother had suffered greatly when she was stripped of her title, and she had been forced to beg her cousin, the Earl of Atholl, for a place in his household. But what happened to them could happen to anyone. And she was still the queen’scousin. “I am a lady of the queen’s court, as are you. I have every right.”
    Etienne had no response to that.
    Caitrina left the room with her head high and descended the stairs into the great hall. “Where is the marshal?” she asked a passing gillie.
    He pointed to a tall figure standing before the hearth. The marshal was younger than she’d expected, a stalwart fellow with a full head of dark gold hair and a strong, beardless chin. He was also handsome. And something of a charmer. The slow smile he gave the serving girl who brought him a fresh horn of ale bordered on inappropriate.
    “Marshal,” she said, crossing the room.
    He faced her as she approached, his deep brown eyes taking a brazen inventory of her every feature, from the tip of her beaded slippers to the top of her braided hair. Then he offered her a short bow. “Good day to you, Lady . . . ?”
    “Lady Caitrina.”
    “How might I aid you?”
    “I fear this decision to contain us might be a bit rash.”
    His eyebrows lifted. “Are you aware, my lady, that there is a thief on the loose?”
    “I am aware,” she acknowledged, trying not to look him right in the eye. My goodness, the man was as forward as the devil. “But one thief is hardly an army of invaders. I cannot see any risk in riding with a proper escort.”
    “I disagree.”
    Caitrina cut short her study of his broad chest—which filled the fine wool of his gray surcote to perfection—and shot him a frown. His dismissal of her opinion was cavalier. “Really? Why?”
    He seemed surprised that she would question his decision—his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared a bit—but he addressed her comment without rancor. “The lads who hunt this fellow say he’s both dangerous and sly. Willing to go to any lengths to get what he wants. To ride outside the manor walls with such a maligner nearby would be an invitation to misfortune.”
    That certainly did not sound like any man she would care to encounter. But she could not allow anyone to stop her from finding Marsailli. Dangerous or no. “Give me four men. Surely even the slyest of thieves cannot best four armed soldiers.”
    “Nay.”
    Caitrina stiffened. “Are you refusing to give me the men?”
    “Return to your rooms,” he said. “There’ll be no riding today.”
    Had she truly thought this man a charmer? He was a cad. “You cannot simply dismiss my request.”
    “I can, and I have. My duty is to keep all within these walls safe, and I’ll not abandon that duty to please a lass.” He smiled. “Even as bonnie a lass as you.”
    Caitrina glared at him. Did he really think a smile would appease her? The wretch had no idea how dire her circumstances were—nor could she confess the reality in an effort to sway him.
    “And if I choose to take a horse and leave of my own accord?”
    The smile left his eyes. “It would be an error to test the bounds of my good nature, Lady Caitrina.”
    All hint of gentleness had vanished, leaving a hard, intense man whom she had no difficulty imagining hauling her up the narrow steps of the keep and locking her in her rooms. “The queen will hear of this, sir.”
    He shrugged. “Share my edict with anyone you must.”
    Teeth on edge,