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

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The Marquess Who Kissed Me: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 17

by Deborah Wilson


  “Remy will tell you what you need to know,” Oliver said, then left the room without another word.

  It was a complete change from the man she’d seen earlier today.

  She followed in the direction she thought he’d gone, but when she made it to the foyer, he wasn’t there. Had he truly left that quickly? She went back and found Remy and Cassius in deep discussion.

  She walked right up to them. “I need to know what is going on.”

  “We’re being watched, Belle,” Remy said. “Urnish was with The Whip when Oliver tried to take him.” The Whip was short for the Deputy Chief Whip. He made sure the men of the House of Lords voted correctly for their parties. He was also the bodyguard of the queen, though that was only ceremonial.

  He didn’t actually guard her himself, but he did have quite a few armed men to see to it and spent a great amount of time with the royal family.

  He was not someone to offend.

  Belle had met Landcastle before. They were often at the same events. She didn’t think he liked her, and she couldn’t say she liked him either. He seemed to analyze every word that left someone’s lips. It made her nervous and Belle was not one to be nervous around men.

  “Will Landcastle come after you?” she asked Cassius.

  “We shall see,” the duke said. “He’s confronted me more than once about rumors, trying to link me to the dead. He was not a fan of Gregory’s. I like the man even if he is in my way. Milly’s prison should help fix the issue of his curiosity.”

  “But what about Lord Urnish?” Remy said. “Are we to let him get away with this?”

  “I’ll consult my books and let you know,” Cassius said. There was a chance he had a secret that he could use again Urnish.

  “And what about Landcastle?” Belle asked.

  “I’ll not attack a man for doing his job,” the duke said. “He fights for justice, just as we do.”

  Belle nodded. She liked that about Cassius. He was reasonable.

  It pained Belle that Oliver thought he’d failed her.

  He’d left before she could speak to him. She had to find him.

  She asked Elisa to get the address from her husband Nick. Belle had never been to Oliver’s home, but she suspected his brothers had and she’d been right.

  It was late when she arrived. She knew the landlord. He was someone connected to Van Dero. She was let into the building easily and pointed to the top floor.

  She knocked on the door and waited.

  Oliver answered.

  Their eyes caught. She could see the anger in his gaze.

  “Now isn’t a good time,” Oliver said.

  “You didn’t fail, Oliver,” she said, completely ignoring his wishes. “I’m safe, just as you promised I would be.” Shepard was downstairs.

  His lips thinned, and he looked away for a moment before turning his gaze fell back on her. “I’m glad you’re safe, Belle. You should go home now.”

  She frowned. “Why are you being this way?”

  “What way?” It was like talking to ice. His gaze was simply that cold.

  Her stomach tightened. “What did Urnish say?”

  “Nothing I didn’t already know about you.” His expression turned to contempt when he looked her over. “Tell me, did you enjoy being with Urnish? Did you want him as much as you wanted me?”

  Belle thought her chest had been ripped open by the pain of his accusation. “What?”

  “I thought I could help you, Belle, but you were right. It’s best I don’t do you any more favors. You’ve got everything under control.”

  “Oliver, you’re not making any sense.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m done.”

  She stiffened. “Oliver…”

  “When next you see me, ignore me as I will ignore you.”

  Tears fell from her eyes. It was like she’d lost him all over again.

  He was clearly disgusted by her past. She’d worried about what Urnish would reveal. Had he gone into detail about the way he’d used her? How he’d had her over and over again? Had he told him how willing he’d been to give Gregory everything the duke wanted, money, power, and connections? All in the hopes of another night with Belle?

  Until a year ago, she’d been disgusted with herself. She wouldn’t have wanted her either, but time and service for others had changed all that.

  She’d thought Oliver would have been able to see past her faults. She thought he saw her in a way few others did.

  But she was wrong.

  He was like Dunst. Revulsed by her. It was only his punishment that was different.

  She would do more than keep her distance from him this time. This time, she would hate him.

  When a sob broke her lips, she turned away and fled.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 2

  * * *

  She allowed herself to cry that night, but slowly a voice broke into her despair and told her the tears could not go on forever. She was allowed to have her time to mourn yet again what could have been, but eventually, she’d have to move on.

  Yet it was harder this time around. The last time Oliver had shut her out, she hadn’t known what it would feel like to be kissed by him or to be touched.

  She removed his mother’s jewel the next morning and made arrangements for it to be delivered to Venmont House. A servant would collect it and hold it for whenever Oliver arrived home. She didn’t know when that would be and she told herself not to inquire.

  She’d lost him before. She would survive again.

  Vita came to visit her the next afternoon. Belle hadn’t left her house. She’d barely gone to stand by the window. She feared seeing him or anyone who would remind her of Oliver.

  She needed to get away, to retreat to one of her country properties, but there was far too much to do. There were people who depended on her. There were those who were able to see past her flaws and embraced her current actions.

  If Oliver wished to dwell on her past sins, he would have to do it alone.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Vita asked.

  “My past was too much for him. There is nothing I can do about it. Talking will solve nothing. I’m moving on.” This was the first time Belle had left her room since last evening. Vita was in her office. Belle was looking over a list of properties for sale. She had more boys to house.

  A mysterious note had been delivered to her house. It spoke of a property that was overrun with hungry children.

  Belle wished to buy it and transform it.

  She was pretty sure just where the note had come from. Oliver. He was avoiding her but wouldn’t allow the children to go without simply because of their feud.

  “Just like that?” Vita asked, coming stand by her. “You’re simply moving on?”

  Belle held her friend’s eyes. “I’ve no choice. I’ve no time to dwell on my unhappiness. Does it hurt? Yes? Will I cry about it later? Yes, but I can’t cry about it now, Vita.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Kennicot has agreed to join the duke for dinner this evening. Irene will be there and I plan to ask her for a great amount of money for my newest project.” Projects were good. Projects would keep her busy and away from her problems.

  “Do you think Oliver will be there?” Vita asked.

  Belle looked away. “Likely, which is why I’ll need all my strength.”

  Vita touched her shoulder. “You’re the strongest woman I know, Belle.”

  Belle smiled at her. “No, I’ve simply grown used to disappointment. I hardly know anything else.” She’d tried to keep herself from becoming bitter, but she swore she’d never fall again. She was done with love.

  At the end of the week, Shepard approached her just as she was making the final arrangements for her new house. It would be for boys and girls.

  “I’ve held my peace for days,” her bodyguard said. “But I’ll not hold it anymore. He doesn’t deserve you.”

  Belle turned to Shepard. He was the first boy she’
d ever saved. The one who had started it all. “Some people were meant for love and some were not.”

  “You were meant for love, Belle.” Shepard glared. “I’m not leaving you alone with him anymore. I don’t care what he says. He’ll have to kill me before I leave your side again.”

  Belle walked over to him. Her stomach fell, and she gripped his shoulders. “Don’t say that.” Because Oliver could kill him. “You don’t have to worry about me being alone with him again. We’re done.”

  Shepard’s expression became condescending. “He’ll be back, Belle. Once he realizes how much of an idiot he’s being, he’ll come sniffing at your heels like a lost pup and your big heart will open for him.” He pointed a finger at her. “But I’ll be there to remind you of the pain he’s caused and warn you against being merciful.”

  Belle laughed. Her eyes began to burn. “You’re sweet, Shepard, but he’s not coming back around this time and I wouldn’t let him if he did.” But she doubted he ever would.

  “Well, to make sure of it, you should move on before he’s had a change of heart.”

  She dropped her hands. “What do you mean?”

  Shepard opened his arms. “You could have half the men in London. Don’t pretend as though Lord Venmont was the first man to show you true affection. Be happy, Belle. Marry. Don’t let him control your dreams.”

  Her heart thundered. ‘I’m not.” But she was.

  “You are,” he hissed. “You want to marry when he’s nice. You don’t when he isn’t. You’ve given him too much power.”

  Her stomach rolled and she turned away. “What do you know about that?”

  “Have you forgotten just how long I’ve known you?” He followed her back to her desk. “I’ve known you longer than he has, nearly a decade.”

  She smiled up at him. “You were a child when we met.”

  He frowned. “Belle, you were a child as well. You are only a few years older. Yes, the men who controlled your life might have matured you, but that doesn’t change the facts. I knew you.”

  She remembered the boy Shepard had been. They weren’t even sure of his age, but Belle thought him to have been ten at the time, so they’d stuck with that.

  She’d been fifteen.

  He’d run in front of Gregory on a sidewalk and nearly made the duke fall. Gregory had lifted his stick and Belle had gripped it, stopping the duke from taking his anger out on the wide-eyed lad.

  She’d been beaten in his place that night.

  Then months later, they’d been going to a party one evening when Gregory was attacked by a gang of boys. His guard had told her to run so she’d fled. She’d left London and stayed with a friend of Gregory’s. A woman who’d been kind.

  The duke had been ill for weeks after the beating and Belle had been free from his scorn for over a month. She remembered that time with great pleasure.

  She’d run when the guard told her to and Shepard had found her. He’d told her that he’d arranged it because of her kindness to him and she’d vowed in her heart to help the boys on the streets.

  They’d been friends for years, if only in secret until Gregory’s death. Shepard did know her well. There was no reason to lie to him now.

  She sighed. “You weren’t there when Oliver saved me. I don’t think I can love again.”

  “Try,” Shepard said. “Do it for that part of you that still dreams. Don’t let Oliver or Gregory win.”

  Gregory’s name shook her to the core. Old fears bloomed. She had to still herself from looking around. Was the old duke still controlling her?

  It was possible.

  “Oliver has my heart, Shepard.” The confession hurt.

  Shepard stared at her. “That’s because you’re different with him. You’re vulnerable. You’re real. Be real, Belle. Be you and maybe you’ll be surprised by what happens.”

  Could she do that? Be real with another person? She didn’t think she was that strong.

  But Vita thought she was.

  So did Shepard and all the other people she’d helped.

  She remembered holding Ellevear in her arms. She wanted a baby.

  She’d wanted one with red hair and piercing blue eyes.

  But she couldn’t allow Oliver to control her dreams, as Shepard said.

  “It won’t happen overnight,” she told him with a soft smile. “But maybe I can try.”

  It was all she had for the moment.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 3

  * * *

  “I’ve never seen you here before.”

  Oliver turned to Husher, yet his words had still managed to carry over the noise of the tavern. The Swinging Door Inn and Tavern was full of patrons. “I’m here to speak to you.”

  “About?” Husher sat next to him at the table. A full tanker was in his hand. The room wasn’t bright. Oliver studied the other man’s green eyes, seeing if he could trust him before he went on. “The next time you sneak into Belle’s home will be the last day you pull breath.”

  The young assassin grinned.

  The look irritated Oliver. His emotions were all over the place. “Do you know who I am? What I’ve done? What I could do to you?”

  Husher leaned his elbows on the table and tapped his cup. “Whatever could you do to me? I’m always up for a good story.”

  Oliver ground his teeth together. He was looking for a fight, but he wouldn’t touch Husher, not when the man was already injured. It wouldn’t be fair.

  Husher smiled. “I will not sneak into Belle’s home again. Is that all?”

  Oliver calmed. “No, why did you leave Cassius’ service?”

  Husher’s arrogant expression fell. “Did Cassius send you to talk to me?”

  “Cassius doesn’t know I’m here.” And if Oliver were in his right mind, he wouldn’t be talking to Husher at all. But Oliver needed to distract himself from his own problems. Every time Belle’s pain-filled expression flashed before his eyes, his gut clenched hard enough to send him to his knees.

  Spirits numbed him pretty well, but unfortunately, they prevented him from thinking reasonable as well. He tried to focus. “You’ve been outed as a supporter of Cassius. It’s time for you to find a new profession or return to Cassius’ employment.”

  “I’ll manage but thank you.”

  Oliver narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t figure Husher out. Raven was working for the duke. Were the two not as joined at the hip as people believed? “Why’d you leave Cassius’ service?”

  Husher frowned. “If this is what this conversation is about—”

  “It wasn’t money,” Oliver cut in. “Clearly, it wasn’t money or you’d have returned Noel’s horse to him.”

  “I like the horse.” Yet Oliver could tell that keeping it had cost him. Husher was sitting stiffly, likely still in pain.

  “It wasn’t money,” Oliver declared. “You’re not making more coin working as you are so it had to be something else. Did someone offer you something you wanted? Something that money couldn’t buy?”

  Husher said nothing.

  “Maybe I can help you..”

  “Perhaps. Actually, you may be the only one who can help me.”

  They were getting closer to the issue and Oliver was intrigued. This was just what he needed to get his mind off Belle. “What is it you want? Or rather, who?” Because there was only one reason a man would abandon family, friends, and continued wealth.

  Love.

  Husher sipped his brew and then sighed. He glanced around the room and then lowered his voice. “Before I say any more, I want to know what I’ll have to do in return.”

  “Nothing. We’re friends, aren’t we?” He’d protected Belle. Oliver owed him anyway.

  Husher’s expression shifted. The arrogant mask fell and his vulnerability showed. Yet the display only lasted for a moment. Then the mask was back in place. “You used to work for Gregory.”

  “So you do know what I can do to you should you sneak into Belle’s house again.”

&
nbsp; Husher rolled his eyes. “A family went missing three years ago.” He leaned closer and his voice got even lower. It was just above a whisper. “Swear you’ll speak to no one about this. I don’t want anyone else involved. I don’t know who I can trust.”

  “This stays between us,” Oliver vowed.

  “I’m looking for…” He hesitated. “The Hurrells. They were enemies of Gregory. I know you killed the father. There was a fire at their home. His body was found, but the rest of the family was not.”

  Oliver remembered that fire. He remembered Lord Hurrell. He remembered why he’d killed the doctor. The tests and experiments he’d been running on humans still made Oliver sick. Oliver also knew where Lady Hurrell and her pretty daughter were.

  Along with the daughter’s young boy.

  Gregory had asked Oliver to kill the entire family. He’d disobeyed.

  Now, as Oliver stared at Husher’s face, he was glad he had.

  “You don’t think the rest of the family died in the fire?” Oliver asked.

  “Are they dead?”

  Oliver leaned away. “There were many bodies found in the flames. Why are you so sure the family wasn’t amongst the dead?” The people Hurrell had tortured and killed had been burned for Gregory’s benefit, so he’d believe the entire family extinct. Why did Husher believe otherwise?

  “Are they dead?” Husher asked again. “Just answer the question.”

  “What do you want with Lady and Miss Hurrell?” Oliver asked.

  “What do you think?” Husher asked.

  Gregory tilted his head. “A few months ago, you came onto my land to fetch Vita. Were you looking for someone else as well?” Was Husher aware of the people Oliver had hidden on his land?

  Husher kept his gaze. “Please.”

  “He’s got your eyes,” Oliver finally said. “The boy. They’re pale green.” Oliver had only met Lord Hurrell’s grandson once. He’d never known Husher was the father.

  Husher closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he covered his face with his hands.

  Oliver didn’t ask the assassin for his story. It wasn’t his business.

  Yet the man’s relief nearly choked the air from Oliver’s lungs. Husher had likely been looking for this family— his family— for years. The only person who truly knew him was Raven, but Oliver was sure that given the chance, Husher would make things right with Miss Hurrell.

 

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