The Marquess Who Kissed Me: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  But that wasn’t the whole truth. There was information he could give her to alleviate that guilt.

  He hadn’t killed all of Gregory’s enemies. Most of them still lived.

  But for some reason, he remained quiet about it. Let Belle feel bad. It kept some distance between them.

  The door to the terrace opened, and Oliver stood.

  Milly stepped out. Her eyes caught his, and she smiled. And then she frowned. Disdain filled her gray eyes. “Oh.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s not good to make a bride cry the day before her wedding,” the duchess said with a disapproving shake of her head. She looked at the bench and then sat down.

  Oliver joined her. He was curious why she was awake… and about her comment. “Why do you think it was me who caused Belle to cry? Perhaps, she was thinking about all the boys she’d never be able to care for again.” Belle had charity homes she saw to.

  No one was sure if Dunst would allow that to go on once their marriage was settled. He’d control her money and the businesses that funded the homes. He would likely think the amount she spent on the homes obscene.

  Oliver knew he did.

  “Why don’t either of you just say how you feel?” Milly said. She was used to sticking her nose in the business of others.

  “I don’t know what you assume has gone unsaid between Belle and myself, but that doesn’t matter. My business is mine alone. I suggest you leave it at that.” He gave her a meaningful look.

  Milly straightened. “I see.”

  He hoped she did. “And why are you awake? Why are you out here?”

  “Is that any of your business? Last I heard, this was my home.”

  “Cassius’ enemy will be here tomorrow. It isn’t safe.”

  She waved him away. “I’m sure there are at least two pairs of eyes on me as we speak, but that’s neither here nor there. I’m glad you’re here. I have a favor to ask of you.”

  Oliver crossed his arms and imagined what Milly could ask of him. “What would you have me do, my lady?” He imagined it would be anything from finding something she lost to getting a book down from a high shelf in the library.

  A task any footman could do, but she’d never asked him to do a thing that pertained to his position in her husband’s association.

  Milly had a heart that had been spun with the colors of the rainbow and filled with sweet plum pudding. She’d made her husband soft. Her showers of love had gotten them where they were. That men dared to negotiate with Cassius instead of simply obeying him made him appear weak.

  She made Cassius happy and a happy Cass was a merciful Cass.

  Oliver had no mercy to offer anyone.

  Except for Belle.

  He pushed the thought away.

  He had mercy for others. It had been months since he’d killed anyone and all because he’d accepted a challenge from another nosy lady.

  He was to show mercy to the next three assassinations he was assigned.

  So far, he’d only passed one test.

  Two more awaited him.

  He didn’t actually love death, but his father had told him to never show mercy. He’d drilled that lesson into Oliver with his own fist and through rigorous training. Oliver would not forget.

  “I don’t like Dunst,” Milly said. “I want you to get rid of him.”

  Oliver grabbed his chest and begged his heart to beat again.

  He felt as though he were dying.

  Had the sweet and wholesome Milly just asked him to murder Dunst?

  “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not asking you to kill Dunst. I just want him to go away.”

  Oliver looked up at the sky and then at Milly. “Men like him don’t just go away, Milly. They have to be put away, preferably six feet under.”

  She shook her head. “No, the other wives and I have been working on a plan, and we think we’ve got it.” Milly bit her lip. “It’s not completely legal.”

  Oliver narrowed his eyes. Milly had never intrigued him this much. Besides her strange beauty, with eyes the color of the moon and hair as black as a starless sky, he’d only ever seen her as Cassius’ greatest weakness, but his greatest ally at the same time.

  She was a smart woman. She came up with as many good ideas as the men who were paid to come up with the good ideas did.

  “What's your idea?” he asked.

  “A prison,” she said. “For men who’d otherwise get around the law. The titled. The wealthy and powerful.”

  He paused to think about her solution to their dilemma and decided it was total madness. “A prison?”

  She held up her hand. “Think about it. There would be less blood on our hands, and the people who are most dangerous will be put away.”

  “But they can’t be kept there,” he said. “They are too powerful. Guards can be bought. They’d get free and then come for Cassius.”

  “Not if we hired the right men.”

  Oliver shook his head. “It would never work.”

  “It’s already been working.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Milly pressed her lips together.

  Oliver leaned close. “Lady Milly, what have you done?” Now, he was completely intrigued.

  “I might have hidden away a few of Cassius’ worst enemies.” Milly said the names of two noted lords of influence. “After he defeated Count Boris, a few men tried to rise up against him. He hired an assassin to go after them. I asked that assassin to do something else. They’ve been held at Boris’ old mines.” Then she leaned in and whispered, “Where they were put to work and have been working for nearly a year now.”

  Oliver was impressed. “How have you managed to keep them from bribing a guard?”

  She smiled. “They’d have to have money in order to bribe, wouldn’t they? Their accounts were cleared.”

  “How?”

  “It pays to have friends who manage banks.” She smiled.

  Oliver only knew of one man who’d been managing a bank who was close to Cassius. “Sirius Hayes helped you?”

  “He doesn’t know why he did it,” she admitted. “But he didn’t refuse me. Their money is paying the guards very handsomely. I already have a man in charge of it.” She looked mighty impressed with herself. “So, what do you say?”

  Oliver chuckled. Smart woman indeed. She would do all she could not only to save her husband’s soul but all the souls around him.

  Perhaps he’d been too quick to call her weak. That she’d managed to not only pull this off but keep it a secret for so long was a feat.

  “Who else knows about this? You didn’t do this on your own.”

  “I’ll tell you after I tell Cassius.” Her expression said she was not looking forward to that conversation.

  Better her than him.

  A prison. A working prison.

  He was amazed. He felt… happy. Hopeful for Belle.

  “I want to see this prison of yours,” he said.

  “You can see it when you take Lord Dunst there tomorrow, after the ceremony.”

  “After? But he and Belle will be wed if we wait until then.”

  “I’ve taken care of that as well.”

  “What did you do?”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry about that. Just make sure she’s not forced to consummate this marriage.” She began to stand, and Oliver helped her up as he got on his own feet.

  “Why the wait?” Oliver asked.

  “This wedding is important to Cassius. There will be supporters for Dunst present. We may very well get to meet the men of this Circle.”

  The imaginary Circle.

  He rolled his eyes.

  And then he looked Milly over. “I underestimated you, my lady.”

  She touched his shoulder and right before she left him, she said, “Never do it again.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  0 4

  * * *

  “Oh, that’s a pretty necklace. I’ve never seen you wear it before. Did Dunst buy it
for you?” Lady Pia, Countess of Gordie, asked Belle. Her violet eyes met Belle’s in the mirror. Her face was pulled into a smile, trying in vain to make Belle feel better.

  Belle wore her own empty grin.

  I’ve been unhappy before, she reminded herself.

  For most of her life, she hadn’t known what happiness was. She’d discovered it with Oliver. She often wished she hadn’t. Then she wouldn’t know what she was missing out on all the time.

  But there was no denying she’d been blessed to call the women around her friends.

  She had four bridesmaids. Milly, the Duchess of Van Dero, Vita, the Countess of Bowland, Pia, the Countess of Gordie, and Lady Elisa Childs.

  They were her only friends. She’d only made close friends in the last year. Before that, Gregory had never allowed anyone close to her. Those who dared paid with their lives.

  Belle touched her necklace for what felt like the fifth time in the last minute and said, “A friend gave this to me.”

  There were murmurs of approval throughout the room.

  The only one who didn’t make a sound was Milly.

  The Duchess of Van Dero, instead, had a very knowing look in her eyes. She’d been strangely quiet all morning, and she wondered if Milly was preparing herself for the day ahead.

  Belle hadn’t asked the women around her to be her bridesmaids just because they were her friends, but because it had forced Dunst to have groomsmen.

  This meant he’d been obligated to provide four men he thought close to him.

  Worrying about the day’s mission allowed Belle to distract herself from the fact that she was marrying a man she’d rather see dead.

  “I saw the garden,” Vita said. “It’s beautiful.”

  The breakfast they planned would be extravagant in every way. From the food to the decor, everything would be beautiful.

  “Come,” Milly said. “Let’s give the bride a moment alone.” To Belle, she said, “We’ll meet you downstairs.”

  The women gave her hugs and then left.

  There were still a few minutes before the ceremony.

  An ill-feeling began to turn in her belly. Her blood rushed and her eyes widened as a flash of panic consumed her. She gripped the edges of the mirror and looked at herself. “You can do this. You’ve sold yourself before. At least this time, you get a pretty title to go with it.” Yet it had been so very long since she’d laid with a man who hadn’t been of her own choosing.

  Her stomach twisted again as she remembered the first time.

  Her innocence stolen. The burn that followed. The tears.

  The rage.

  A knock came to the door.

  She stared at herself in the mirror. She was pale.

  She swallowed and straightened as she turned to the door. “Come in.” Her eyes widened at the sight of Oliver. “Oliver? What are you doing here?” She rushed to him. Actual happiness crawled its way into her heart.

  He’d shaved. For her?

  He had a hand in front of his eyes. “Is it safe to look?” He closed the door behind him.

  Belle smiled. “You’re already being improper by being here. Just look.”

  He spread his fingers, and his blue eyes caught hers. Then he lowered his hand and cringed. “It’s not safe.”

  “What do you mean?” Was she still pale?

  He walked over to the vanity and picked up a black masquerade mask. Then he held it to her face and sighed. “That's better.”

  She laughed and slapped his hand down. “You wicked man.” She struck him in the shoulder. “I’m getting married today. How dare you insult my beauty!”

  He grinned and his dimples flashed. He was astonishingly handsome. He’d cut his hair as well. The red waves were now drawn into curls that framed him beautifully. Everyone thought his middle brother Nicholas the gorgeous one, but Belle knew Oliver could give him a run for his money if he wished.

  He had a charm of his own making. His deep voice tantalized her senses as he spoke. “It’s only funny because we both know you’re far from hideous.”

  She gasped. “Are you calling me beautiful?”

  “There are many levels between beautiful and hideous.”

  She gasped and then laughed.

  He’d never called her beautiful. Not once.

  They’d been a month together and in all that time, he’d given her no gift or compliments. She was used to both where men were concerned. She should have been driven mad by his lack of affection, yet somehow, she’d found herself more pleased in his presence than anywhere else.

  He stuck his hands into his pockets. “How many guards have been assigned you?”

  She sighed. “Three. I will meet them at the end of the hall. Are you not going to answer my question?”

  “And the three will be with you the entire day?”

  “Yes.” She was annoyed that he would avoid her question.

  He moved to the balcony doors. The curtains had been pulled back, but the doors were closed. He stared out.

  “Oliver…”

  He turned to her. “You’re beautiful, Belle.”

  Time seemed to stop.

  Her eyes burned, just as they had last night. “You’re being nice to me again.”

  “Go,” he said. “The ceremony is about to begin.”

  Her heart fell, and she looked at the clock.

  It was time.

  She looked at Oliver.

  The next time she saw him, she’d be a married woman.

  She stepped forward. “You’re not coming?”

  “Go downstairs.”

  His voice stopped her in her tracks.

  There was so much left unsaid between him, or at least for her.

  But what was the point? If circumstances were any other way, he would still be out of her reach.

  “I’ll see you at the breakfast?” she asked hopefully.

  He nodded.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  0 5

  * * *

  Oliver watched the door close behind her and struck out toward the curtain.

  But the man behind it moved, throwing himself to the bed and rolling to the other side.

  Oliver had a blade ready and flung it just as the man revealed his hand.

  It grazed his finger and landed with a thump on the door.

  The male assailant cursed and dropped his hand. “That was a sign of surrender.”

  Oliver was on his way to the other side of the bed when he stopped. He recognized that voice.

  He pulled two blades out. “What are you doing here?”

  “Promise you won’t kill me if I stand?”

  “No.” Oliver had every intention of killing him.

  Except…

  He cursed. His promise to have mercy prevented it. “Why are you here, Husher?”

  The gentleman slowly got to his feet. His hands were out, but that meant nothing. He was a trained assassin and a former employee of Cassius’.

  The organization had been looking everywhere for him. He had sins to answer for.

  Husher’s pale green eyes met Oliver’s. “Since when are you and Belle on good terms?”

  Oliver tilted his head. “You’re not giving me a reason not to kill you.”

  Husher lifted his hands higher. “I come in peace. Sort of.”

  “You are in Belle’s room. How long have you been here? Did you see her nude?”

  Husher smiled. “I wish.” He ducked just in time. “All right!” he cried from behind the bed. The blade thumped on the wall behind him. “I was hired to kill her.”

  Oliver’s eyes flashed. “By who?”

  “I don’t know.” Husher’s dark head peeked up. “But it seemed time-sensitive. I was asked to do it in the next month and paid a great amount to see it done.”

  “A month?”

  “She’s under Cassius’ protection,” Husher said. “It seems whoever contracted me thought it would be hard for me to reach her. He didn’t know I used to work for the duke, know the soldi
ers’ schedules, and still have this.” He wore the coat of Cassius’ men, the one they used to identify friend from foe.

  “That jacket no longer belongs to you,” Cassius said. “Give it to me.”

  Husher ignored him. “I was hired last night.” It hadn’t taken him long to get Belle alone at all. “I saw her in the garden. I saw when you approached as well.”

  Husher had had plenty of chances to kill her, it seemed.

  “Why do they want her dead?” Oliver asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’ve been trying to figure it out. Perhaps they wish to prevent her future husband from sharing something with her and thus sharing it with Cassius.”

  Oliver narrowed his eyes. He wanted to think Husher was lying, but their history made it hard. Also, this theory made sense. There would be those who would be against this new alliance.

  He wondered if that person was attending the party. “Were you the only man hired for this job?”

  “I don’t know,” Husher said gravely.

  “Do you not ask any questions when men offer you money to kill someone?”

  “Do you?” Husher lifted a brow.

  “Actually, I require it,” Oliver said. Every assignment Gregory gave him came with a recollection of that individual’s sins. He always discussed those sins with his target before he killed them, to make sure that Gregory wasn’t lying to him.

  Gregory had been pure evil but never a liar, and Oliver had been more than glad to see his end. Oliver’s only regret was not having the chance to end him.

  “Well, I wasn’t going to kill Belle anyway,” Husher said.

  “And I should trust you, because...” Oliver asked.

  “Because Belle is in danger, and I didn’t sign up to kill my friends.”

  “Friends? You still count us as your friends?”

  Husher had walked out of the organization months ago.

  “I had my reasons for leaving.” Reasons he’d yet to share. “I’m leaving now. It’s too dangerous here.” Husher inched toward the balcony.

  “I should take you to Van Dero,” Oliver said, his other blade still poised, ready to throw.

  “You wouldn’t want to do a thing like that.” Husher continued to move, never giving Oliver his back. “How else are any of you to know when someone’s been assigned to kill you?”